The Rev. Canon Anne E. Kitch
Isaiah 5:1-7 Hebrews 11:29-12:2 Luke 12:49-56
I wasn’t caught in the deluge on Friday afternoon, but my friend was. We were just finishing lunch in a downtown restaurant when someone mentioned that it had begun to thunder. My friend left immediately hoping to reach her parked car and close the windows before it started to rain. I stayed behind to finish a conversation. No one was really prepared for the cascade of wind and water as the storm hit. Although there had been warning signs, it seemed to come out of nowhere. The force with which it hit, even hail in some places, was certainly out of the norm for an August day in Pennsylvania. I certainly wasn’t expecting it. I had checked the weather report earlier because we were planning a picnic that night and even after that first onslaught I kept insisting it would clear in time for dinner.
Perhaps we had been lulled into the comfort zone that is late summer. Isolated thunder storm are expected, but not like this. Or perhaps it is because we are city dwellers that we don’t really expect a storm to catch us unawares and without shelter. A change in the weather can be an inconvenience. My friend was soaked, but unharmed. Yet there are times and places when being unprepared for a storm is a matter of life and death. Outdoor enthusiasts know this. Hikers, kayakers, and bikers know to read the signs. They respect weather and approach it with caution and wisdom. Now we all know how to read the signs: a change in wind, dark clouds overhead, a drop in air pressure. These could be significant. And the wise among you also know that despite all these signs, the weather is completely unpredictable as well. Storms come. If we are lulled by the summer sun, by our comfort zones, we will not be ready. Don’t underestimate the power of creation.
What about the rest of our lives? How well do we navigate the weather in our everyday lives? In our relationships? In our interactions with the world at large? In our faith? Do we read the signs? Do we remember not to underestimate the powers around us? Do we know what kind of a God we are dealing with? Jesus wondered--his strong words in the Gospel shock us, “I came to bring fire to the earth and how I wish it were already kindled!” Where is the good news in this? In today’s collect we honor Jesus as an example of godly life and we pray that God will help us follow in his blessed steps. But what kind of example is this? Calling down fire on the earth, bringing division rather than peace. What blessing is there in households divided? But what he speaks about is a matter of life and death.
Jesus has already set his face toward Jerusalem and has already turned the corner to the cross. He knows, even if his followers do not, that the heat is on. The crowds gathering around him now numbered in the thousands. He has been teaching about judgment and greed and the imperative to be rich toward God. He has told them not to be anxious about daily life, but to trust in God. He has said that where your treasure is there will your heart be also. He has counseled them to strive first for the Kingdom. These are comfortable words. But then it escalates. He warns them all to be prepared for the master coming at the unexpected hour. And then this—I came to bring fire to the earth!
Lest we get lulled by a quiet summer afternoon and a lovely lunch with friends, Jesus warns that there is a storm coming. Lest his followers believe that a few wise sayings about real treasure encompass the Gospel and Jesus’ work on earth, Jesus speaks of the fire to come and of his baptism to come. This is not the baptism performed by John in the River Jordan that began Jesus’ ministry, but the one that will complete the work that Jesus has begun. Do you remember John’s words when he baptized all who came to him, “I baptize you with water, but there is one coming after me and he will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire!” Jesus is that one and is ready to kindle the fire—a fire that will consume him. He will raise a storm that leads to his death on the cross. Because nothing less will save the world.
There are many storms that rage around us. We only need to read the headlines in the local paper to see the evidence of their wrath. As the prophet Isaiah cries out, “The Lord of hosts expected justice, but saw bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!” Sometimes it feels as if the evils of the world are creeping closer and closer to our front door. It seems that storm clouds of despair are looming. We can get lulled into the comfort zone and not act, hoping to stay protected. But it doesn’t work that way. We will not stay protected. For what happens in the world, happens to us. That is what it means to be part of the Body of Christ. We cannot simply divorce ourselves from the other members. No wonder Jesus spoke strong words! No wonder he cried to people to look around them and see the redemption that the world cried for, “Why do you not know how to interpret the present time?” Even if others didn’t, Jesus knew his work was matter of life and death for the entire world. He knew that even his closest followers had no idea about the power he would unleash: the power of the Holy Spirit, the power that began by dying on the cross.
I came to bring fire! We know something about fire and its power. We know that it burns, is destructive, dangerous, out of our control, hungry and devouring. But there is more. Do you know the story of the lodge pole pine? This evergreen is prolific out west. Like most evergreens, its seeds are contained in pine cones. But no matter how many of these cones fall to the ground, the seeds will not sprout. The cones are shut tight, glued together by resin. Certain seeds from the cone are only released when the resin is melted by intense heat: the heat of a forest fire. Do you recall the forest fires that destroyed much of Yellowstone Park 20 years ago? For most of the 20th century, the caretakers and national park managers fought all forest fires believing that fire suppression was good stewardship. They thought of any blaze only as a destructive force—one they could tame or at least temper. But in not allowing any blazes to burn, they created forests that were unhealthy, full of dead wood that became ready tinder for a huge and devastating fire. And then it turns out that forests have all sorts of adaptations for fires—like the lodge pole pine. In the midst of destruction, the seeds are preserved. New life comes forth. We have learned much about forest fires and how to fight them over the last 20 years. It turns out that in the economy of the forest, fires are necessary to ensure that healthy life continues.
This is what God’s fire can do in our lives. We cannot tame Jesus any more than we can avoid storms or control fires; nor would we want to. A tame, soft-spoken Jesus couldn’t save the world, wouldn’t bring us new life. What new life is there in you that has yet to be unleashed? What seeds lay hidden, lulled in a comfort zone that need to be awakened by God’s holy fire?
Copyright © 2007 by Anne E. Kitch
