Too Cozy and Comfortable

Luke 12:49-56

When I hear the words, "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild ...", I usually roll my eyes and laugh.  From what I know of Jesus, these words don’t tell the whole story.

"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, look upon a little child ..." are the opening lines of a Charles Wesley hymn, but for painting a word-picture of Jesus, he could hardly have chosen a less applicable word than "mild," especially in light of today's gospel reading. 

How about this instead: "Divisive Jesus, strong and riled ..."? 

If one were to list ten of the hardest sayings in the Gospels, our reading from Luke today would be on the list hands down, perhaps in the top five.  The statements that Jesus came to bring fire, a distressful baptism, and division, even among families, are hardly welcoming words for any congregation.  They are not the first words we think of to promote our congregation and attract new members.   We are happier with Jesus as a peacemaker than as a home breaker. 

Our scripture reading today is a part of a larger section where the talk becomes sober and the reality of judgment is clear.  Following the admonitions to readiness in preparation for the coming of the Son of man (12:35–48) come these forceful words about Jesus’ destiny and the implications for others (vs. 49–53), and a chiding of the crowds for their failure to discern the times (vs. 54–56).  The present is depicted as a time of crisis, demanding repentance and changed lives.

Our greater concern today is about a word Jesus himself used in this passage to describe his ministry: division. "Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth?" he asked. "No, I tell you, but rather division!" 

            Division is a troubling word, and as it happens, divisive talk and actions from Jesus or about Jesus can be found throughout the gospels. For example, earlier in Luke, when John the Baptist was announcing Jesus' coming, he said, "His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire" (Luke 3:17).  In the early days of Jesus' ministry, when he visited the Nazareth synagogue with his reputation as a preacher and healer preceding him, the congregation initially "spoke well of him" (Luke 4:22).  But Jesus wasn't content to leave it at that, and intentionally provoked them with his "hometown" comments to the point that they wanted to dispatch him over a cliff (Luke 4:16-30).  In the Gospel of John, when Jesus spoke to a crowd at the festival of booths in Jerusalem about rivers of living water, some hearers decided he was the Messiah. Others doubted it, however, and the gospel narrator says, "So there was a division in the crowd because of him" (John 7:43).  When a would-be follower told Jesus he first wanted to bury his father, the sense of Jesus' response was that the man should leave his family obligations behind, which, if the man had done so, would have effectively divided him from his family (Luke 9:57-60).  And let's not forget that in the Matthean parallel to today's reading, Jesus says, "I have not come to bring peace, but a sword" (Matthew 10:34, italics added).  A sword cuts.  A sword divides.

Is this the sort of Jesus we want?  Lord knows we already have enough things that divide us -- politics, nationalism, ethnicity, economic status, social standing, educational level, religion, denominations, cultural issues (such as gun control, abortion, immigration, same-sex marriage) and more -- without also having a divisive Savior. 

Jesus' call today has a divisive element to it.  He still calls us to divide ourselves from those who urge us to morally stray, to not put family loyalty above doing his will, to not believe or follow those who act as if peace and happiness lies in possessions, to stand against societal voices that build up the self at the expense of others. In our individual case, the divisive part of Jesus' call may be quite specific and personally tailored to our lives.

From the beginning of Luke’s story, promises of peace have been central to the presence of Jesus (1:79; 2:14; 8:48; 19:38), and peace is the message the Seventy are commissioned to preach (10:5–6). But disciples, both ancient and modern, are eager for an instant peace, a trouble-free fulfillment of the promised salvation. Jesus’ words are jolting because they make it plain that there is no peace without conflict, no salvation without rejection. Jesus himself faces that at Jerusalem, and the disciples need expect nothing different. But rather than being signs of defeat, rejection and conflict, they are incorporated into the divine plan.

At the same time, let's not forget that Jesus' words here about not bringing peace stand in contrast to his words elsewhere in the Gospels where he said following him does result in one kind of peace. In John 14:27, for example, he said to the disciples, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid." Yet subsequent to that, the first-century followers of Jesus didn't live very peaceful lives, at least not as we would describe it. Several of the apostles were hounded for their preaching and then martyred. Paul was beaten, arrested, stoned and finally executed. If that's peace, no thank you! And we know that Christians today, like everybody else, go through painful, upsetting times that are anything but peaceful.

So the peace of God has to mean something other than the absence of struggle and discord, something other than what we can acquire because we have the wherewithal to live a comfortable existence. Reading more broadly in the Bible, we read that the peace of God is something like a magnetic center of calm toward which the person who is committed to Christ is drawn back in the midst of or after turmoil. The peace of God is an anchor that keeps us from being swept away in the storms of life. Frederick Buechner says that "for Jesus peace seems to have meant not the absence of struggle, but the presence of love." 

Jesus’ single-minded determination is a passion we do recognize and often admire.  It is like that of the neighborhood activist who goes to work to clean up a block in her city after a child dies in a drive-by shooting.  It is similar to the passion of the senior citizen who single-handedly takes on the state legislature to make it easier for elders to purchase the prescription drugs they need at a reasonable cost.  It is similar to the zeal of the elementary school student who challenges the congregation to go “green” and is relentless in her presentations to all who will listen.  Some things matter so much that only focused attention and strong speech can carry the prophet’s message.

While God demands obedience and calls humanity to repentance, it is ultimately God who will bear the burden of human disobedience and whose gracious turning to humankind makes life possible. The clearest sign of God’s gracious turning is the cross of Jesus Christ. It is also the cross that indicates the radical demand that repentance and discipleship involve, suggesting why repentance is so difficult and why faithfulness so rarely characterizes the life of God’s people (see Luke 12:51–53).

The divisive element in Jesus' call reminds us that Jesus did not come so that we could have a cozy, comfortable life.  It reminds us that Jesus did not come so that we could have a happy family life -- though the peace of God may contribute to that. It reminds us that Jesus did not come so that we could get along with our siblings -- though the peace of God may help us live with the conflict or enable us to make the first move toward reconciliation. It reminds us that Jesus did not come so that we could get along with our coworkers and neighbors, though the peace of God may help us stay afloat during the discord.

No, none of that. But one reason Jesus did come was to call us out from our cozy, comfort zones to come and follow him; “to run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking at Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who endured the cross, disregarded its shame and now sits at the right hand of God. Depending on the circumstances of our lives, that may be a very divisive call; it may be one that promises no peace at all ... except the peace of God.