Radical Christians
Luke 12:49-59
When Paul asked if I would fill in for him this week, I didn’t hesitate and asked that he send me the common lectionary readings for the week. I was encouraged that they were passages from Luke. A New Testament Gospel reading should be relatively easy to get your arms around. You know, the exploits and teachings of Jesus---stories we all know from Sunday School – Stories whose messages are clear and easy to apply in our everyday lives.
So, I got out the Bible and started reading the 12th chapter of Luke. Yikes! Now, this chapter of Luke contains some warm and familiar passages, like:
“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God,” who knows us so well he has “numbered the hairs” on our heads.
Or, how about:
“Do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear”
Or,
“Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.”
And the most often quoted of all:
“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
No, not lilies or ravens, or even hairs on the head, but troubling language about bringing down fire on earth, provoking division in the world, including families divided against each other—fathers against sons, mothers against daughters, and in-laws against each other – Jesus challenging the hypocrites among his Disciples who were better weather forecasters than they were followers of his Word.
So, when I suggested to Paul that I was really was struggling with this dense and very unseemly militant text (my very short stint in seminary would have prepared me better for the “Jesus loves me” sermon), Paul said, “Just pick another that you like.”
This was tempting. After all, don’t we sometimes skim ahead in a difficult book—jump over the long tedious narratives or descriptions of the landscape to get to the real action? Do we peek at the crossword puzzle solution to fill in the tough words rather than try to figure them out? We even push the peas (or in my case the zucchini slices) to the side of the plate.
But the more I thought about the challenge of “unpacking these verses,”—one of those seminary phrases you sometimes hear in a sermon, the more intrigued I became. Besides, as Lily Tomlin used to say of one of her characters Judith Beasley who regularly gave TV testimonials for fictitious products, “I am an ordinary person like yourself”---so I don’t have a whole file drawer full of sermon ideas. And, I had only gotten through the deep study of the first half of the Old Testament in seminary—Genesis through Ruth--when I halted my studies. So Luke 12 it is.
Let’s dig in.
First, you start with the process of exegesis---I used to think growing up when I heard that word in church that they were saying “Exit Jesus”—perhaps talking about the crucifixion. But no. Exegesis is the careful examination of the context of a verse—the history, religious times, even varying interpretations of the Greek or Latin translations and derivatives of words.
My first hope was that Jesus might have been misquoted when he talked about fire and vision, or we have a strained interpretation of some Greek word. But no such luck. We have reason to believe Jesus in fact said something of this sort, since there are virtually identical passages in Matthew. In fact, in Matthew, the words are even more provocative where Jesus says he did not come to bring peace to the earth—but a sword! Talk about dividing peoples and families—the images conjured up of breaking up families with big cleavers or other implements of war are just so out of context with the Jesus we came to know in Sunday School.
The Prince of Peace. The one for whom angels sang at his birth about the coming of “peace on earth.” The one who reminded us in the Beatitudes that “Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall inherit the kingdom of heaven.” The kindly bearded smiling man, holding out his hands to the little children, or cradling the lamb.
Fire, swords, division, hypocrites. What can they mean?
In true Arlene Ackerman three-point sermon fashion, I am going to offer three things we could possibly glean from this reading.
First, I believe it is all about commitment. These words come near the end of Jesus’ life (the “baptism” he refers to in the verse when he says, “I have a baptism to undergo, and how distressed I am until it is completed.”) He so urgently wants to believe that the twelve followers he leaves behind will be trained, energized and motivated to carry on the message, and the good works.
And, he knows it will not be easy. One scholar described Jesus as a “giant wedge”---you were either for Him or against Him, sometimes at great risk to yourself. He challenged so much about Jewish beliefs. He was a renegade, and dared to heal the sick and raise the dead. He did not hesitate to champion the leper, the prostitute, and outcast Samaritan. He was radical in his beliefs…and he knew that society would not fully embrace his followers—they might even crucify them! At any rate, he knew they were about to embark on an inhospitable journey through the Holy Lands where they would not be welcomed with open arms. Quite possibly, the Disciples’ own family members would disown them as they carried on with this radical new awareness of God and as they continued to demonstrate God’s incredible healing power through mystical unexplained works of seeming magic. Would these twelve fragile, very human, men be up to the task?
Whether you take the word division from Luke, or the sword from Matthew, scholars believe the word meant leaving something behind…making a decision to follow Christ, to forego old ways of doing things, to accept what before was unbelievable, to let their faith believe in moving mountains and changing the world.
Any time we make a commitment, we leave something behind—we are divided from the old We vow to start exercising, or lose weight….we leave those old habits behind. We swear we are going to be devoted to our exercise, and leave the couch behind. We abandon (at least for a while) the potato chips in the cupboard and the chocolate sauce in the fridge. Commitments required of those early Christians was, however, an order of magnitude greater commitment…it was a radical commitment.
After all, we know the horrible specter of division in the name of God and it is not, unfortunately, just a relic of Biblical times. It can be a proving ground—a Petri dish—for real violence. There are religious rifts and divides all over the world today, some of which have resulted in literal sword-bearing of neighbor against neighbor—the Protestants and Catholics in Ireland, the Jews and Muslims throughout the Middle East, Sunni’s and Shi’ites, the Crusades, the Jihad, the “war” to protect traditional family values, and on and on.
We do not have to look far to find swords raised in the name of religious difference. Sadly, we do not have to look far either to see fist or weapon raised family member to family member, as domestic violence is all too often experienced in families today.
So, clearly, this is not what Jesus was preaching. Jesus has a division—a “radicality” of a different kind in mind.
For, while we know that Jesus might have been a little rambunctious when he threw the money changers out of the Temple, there is not one shred of evidence that Jesus ever lifted a finger against anyone, or advocated real violence in any way.
So, if Jesus is not advocating for Holy Wars, why the extreme, harsh language? Quite simply, I believe he wanted to get our attention. He also knew that his Disciples would likely encounter difficult, possibly life-threatening, times. He may have foreseen the Roman persecution of Christian martyrs….he knew it would be tough.
So, the second point of the text, in my view is Jesus reminding us that we may need from time to time to be jolted out of our complacency. Yes, we come to church, we may even give something back…..an hour or two here for choir, a check or bill in the plate, Sunday School lesson plans. It feels good, it doesn’t require too much of us, and we get our dose of inner peace and glow from communion, from the Praise music, or from the message. Sometimes, it may feel like is it just “me and Jesus,” having our quiet time together—centering and calming, uniquely personal.
In my own experience, this good mood derived from the church experience—from the fellowship, from the warmth and acceptance I feel here, from the focus for an hour or so on something other than life’s ordinary cares—lasts most of the rest of the day. I have observed to Kathy, “you know, I am in a better mood after church.” (She may believe that even one days’ worth of better mood would in itself be worth the experience).
Are the effects of your participation in this Life of Christ lasting—beyond Sunday afternoon? Do they carry you through the week? Do you take the messages heard here and apply them to the conflicts in your life, to the injustices you see, to the need for healing and compassion in the world?
If you are like me, maybe sometimes---but perhaps not always.
So, I think the “division” Jesus spoke about in Luke was not only about the division among family members, but may more rightly have been the division within ourselves. Perhaps our greater conflict is not with the Religious Right, or with our family members who do not agree with how we now inclusively define our families and life commitments, or with our employers who may take issue with our lifestyles, but with ourselves. Me against me.
Was Jesus exhorting me to make such a commitment to my faith that I could successfully tackle the voices within me that cause me to be selfish and controlling, or inadequate and not up to a task, or unable to withstand temptation, or unkind in word—critical and biting? How can I divide myself from sarcasm and negativity? How can I hack through with a sword the part of me that complains and whines rather than trying to fix the situation? How can I excise the deadly little voice inside that says it is OK to be too tired or to wrapped up in living my little life and fail to acknowledge the goodness around me—and be openly grateful for it.
The great little bestselling book, “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert says all of life’s conflicts (wars, marriages, business deals, playground duels, spousal spats) are about two questions---How Much Do You Love Me? and Who is in Charge? How Much Do You Love Me? And Who is in Charge? Why does answering these two questions seem so hard? And, why are they so often about just “me?” If I apply them to the conflict within me much of the time, I have to ask how much does God, or my family, or my partner, or my team at work, or my boss -love me—and how can I be in charge? See, even with these two fundamental questions, it is most often me versus me. This is the divide I must conquer, Jesus says.
So, third, I think this message is about taking the inspiration of Jesus’ teachings and making a commitment—a radical commitment—to making a difference in our world. In the last few verses, Jesus chastises the Disciples for being excellent weathermen—after all, they had to study the skies to know what might be coming. If a storm was brewing, they had better batten down the tents and tie up the camels. This was before the invention of the Barometer, or any other instrument of weather measurement and prediction. Yes, they were really good at the weather, but, Jesus argued that they were deficient in their interpretation of the “present time.”
One reading of this is, of course, they were clueless that Jesus was about to leave them by way of the Crucifixion—and even more clueless that he might be resurrected and return to them to call them one more time to action. So, they didn’t appreciate the urgency of the call to commitment.
Another interpretation we might choose—and that is the beauty of reading Bible texts, they allow us to look for hidden meanings, for allegory and for putting the wisdom into modern context—is that we too live in seemingly difficult times. We live in a world where bridges inexplicably fall into the river. Where our neighbors heroically continue to eagerly and selflessly sign up to go off to a war supported by such a slender proportion of the American people. Where murders and drug deals happen within sight of this church. Where people in our community do not even know that we exist—that there is a safe loving haven for them here to return to an accepting God. I don’t need to catalogue the acute needs in our times. It is regrettably easy to identify all of the manifestations of evil around us against which we have to say—enough!
That is, I think, radical Christianity. It is making the heartfelt and lifelong commitment that Jesus asked of his disciples—no matter the consequence. It is facing up to the division even within ourselves that makes complacency and status quo seem so comfortable—or even that pernicious internal division that tells us we can’t do any better, that we are deficient in some way, that justifies our daily autopilot through life. Or even worse, that says to us we are so all-important and powerful that we do not need to reach beyond ourselves.
It is also acknowledging that there is such a compelling need for us—for an “us” that is rejuvenated with God’s love, and with the militant call to action to make a difference. I think this text is telling us that we should never be satisfied with a status quo that allows poverty, corruption in institutions, discrimination of any kind, the creation of “other” groups that are then demonized, brokenness, exclusion, mean-spiritedness, bullying behaviors that drive loners to bring guns into schools, or even our own fruitless complaining and whining. We have to muster the energy and will to defeat the lies about who we are and can be—whether those lies derive from outside us – or, worse, inside us.
From the gospel according to Garth Brooks, this text in Luke is captured way better than I could ever do it justice. In his song, Standing Outside the Fire,” he sings:
We call them fools
Who have to dance within the flame
Who chance the sorrow and the shame
That comes with getting burned.
But you’ve got to be tough when consumed by desire
Cause it’s not enough just to stand outside the fire.
We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall
We call them weak
Who are unable to resist
The slightest chance love might exist
And for that forsake it all
They’re so hell-bent on giving, walking a wire
Convinced it’s not living if you stand outside the fire
There’s this love that is burning
Deep in my soul\Constantly yearning to get out of control
Wanting to fly higher and higher
I can’t abide
Standing outside the fire.
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you’re standing outside the fire.
Fire—the burning need to spread the love of God and make a difference in this world. Division---if we look, we find that Jesus preached it all the time (love amidst hatred, unity instead of divisiveness, faith rather than mindless ritual, freedom amid slavery, health among the diseased), now it is our job to live it….the very best we can. We can claim the mantle of Radical Christians, if we can just beat down the voice inside us that says “good enough.”