Sermon for Pentecost 10: "Fire and Peace"

 + 10^th Sunday after Pentecost – August 17^th, 2025 +

Series C: Jeremiah 23:16-29; Hebrews 11:17-12:3; Luke 12:49-53

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. 

 

I’m guessing none of us have this section of Scripture for our confirmation verse or scrolled in beautiful calligraphy over our fire place. Maybe you even winced a little while saying, “This is the Gospel of the Lord.”

 

Jesus’ words in Luke 12 are challenging to hear. Hard to understand. Why is the Prince of Peace speaking about fire, baptism, peace, and division? 

 

Knowing what’s happening in Luke 12 and what Jesus says will give us a better grasp of this hard saying of Jesus, and help us better understand Jesus’ pyrotechnic preaching

 

Throughout Luke 12, Jesus addresses several groups of people: His disciples. The crowds. And the Pharisees. Jesus prepares his disciples for future persecutions; he warns the disciples and the crowds against the hypocrisy of the Pharisees; and he lovingly admonishes them not to trust in possessions. Fear not. Jesus’ death and resurrection is greater than all that life throws at you. God has you covered. He is faithful. He will preserve, protect, and deliver you. 

 

And then comes today’s reading: I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled! I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished!  

 

Even though his language sounds jarring, Jesus’ has been leading us and his disciples to this very point. Fire. Baptism. Peace. Division. These words encompass everything Jesus’ ministry is about. 

 

Fire, as we know well during wildfire season, is both destructive and purifying. Scripture uses fire both ways: as a sign of God’s judgment and wrath against sin. Fire is also refining, purifying, holy-making like when Jesus pours out the Holy Spirit and fire on Pentecost, the fiery wind of the Spirit. Gospel fire. Like the pillar of fire that led Israel through the Sea or the fire of the burning bush that did not burn up, the fire Jesus casts upon the earth is a refining, purifying, illuminating fire.

 

For Jesus is the one upon whom the fire of God’s wrath for sin has fallen. On the cross, God’s wrath is kindled, but not against us. On Jesus. We’re like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, as Jesus is crucified in the fiery furnace of God’s wrath to save us. 

 

For fire to be kindled, there must be sacrifice, a whole burnt offering, a sinless Victim for the sinful many. For this peace that passes our understanding to come to us, there must be a death, and not just any death, but the death of God in the Flesh. He alone can kindle this fire. No amount of rubbing the sticks of our good works together can accomplish this, no matter how many merit badges we accumulate to our credit. 

 

Only Jesus can bring Pentecost fire to the earth, but first, He must die and rise. There is no other way than the way of the cross. And in the words of today’s Gospel, He is driven and compelled to the cross. 

 

And would that it were already kindled, Jesus says. Great is my distress until it is accomplished. Finished. Completed. 

 

Jesus is pointing us ahead to his crucifixion. His ministry begins and ends with Baptism. First his watery baptism in the Jordan. Then his bloody/fiery baptism on the cross as he atones for the sin of the world. The water of the Jordan that flowed over Jesus’ head gives way to the water and blood that flows out of Jesus’ side. From the cross. To the font. To the chalice. For you. 

 

This is what brings peace. In the darkness of Good Friday, the fire of God’s love burns brightest. The burning passion of God to save sinful humanity and a fallen creation. There, in Jesus’ death, is a peace that the world cannot give. A peace the world does not know. A peace the world hates. It’s the peace of sins washed away by the blood of the Lamb, the peace of good news and rescue…that for you, there is no condemnation for you in Christ Jesus.

 

This, then, is the irony and paradox of the Christian life. Receiving His peace. Baptized into Jesus’ death and resurrection. Purified and cleansed by his sacrifice on the cross….means that more often than not, we find ourselves at odds with the world. 

 

Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. 

 

For many of us, Jesus’ words hit home. We live in a divided world. Simply confessing the Christian faith, and living in Christ, we’re divided from those who don’t. Some leave the church or reject our Lord. And then there’s our sins of thought, word, and deed that cause division in our families, marriages, friendships, and everything. This is why we call the church the family of God. Brothers and sisters in Christ. Bound together by the cross; the font; and the altar –the communion of saints.

 

Jesus was no stranger to division. That’s exactly what happened to him on the cross. Jesus…Forsaken for you. Judged for you. Crucified for you. Jesus was divided from the Father as he bore all our sins of division, so that in his death and resurrection you and I would never be divided from him. 

 

Therefore let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Sermon for Pentecost 8: "Parable of the Rich Fool"

 

+ 8^th Sunday after Pentecost – August 3^rd, 2025 + 

Series C: Ecclesiastes 1:2 – 2:26; Colossians 3:1-11; Luke 12:13-21

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

C.S. Lewis opens his famous Narnia book, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by telling us…“There once was a boy named Eustace Scrubb and he almost deserved the name.” As the story moves along, you see why Lewis said this about Eustace. He’s arrogant. Selfish. Self-righteous. As the story progresses, Eustace wanders off alone and finds himself (though unbeknownst to him) in a dragon’s lair surrounded by the dragon’s hoard. He’s giddy and greedy. A deadly synthesis. 

 

When morning comes he wakes up only to discover that he has become the dragon. Eustace has fallen ill with what the old tales call dragon-sickness. The love of gold…of possessions…and stuff.

 

Dragon-sickness isn’t just in fairy tales though. You’ll find it in the true story of the Scriptures too. An unknown man in the crowd comes up to Jesus and says, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.”

 

It doesn’t take a family therapist to realize this isn’t an idyllic episode of “Leave it to Beaver.” The father has died, leaving no oral or written will. The brothers are bickering over who gets dear-old-dad’s estate. It’s divisive and ugly. And Jesus knows it, and wants no part in it. “Man, who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?”

 

The problem isn’t that this man seeks out Jesus, but that he comes to Jesus searching for the kind of justice that Jesus did not come to bring. Justice comes when Jesus justifies sinners by his death for you. Jesus didn’t take on human flesh to take on inheritance disputes, but to take on your sin and be your Savior. This fellow wants Jesus to divide the inheritance between him and his brother, while Jesus comes to reconcile sinners, rescue you from idolatry, and rob the grave of swallowing you and I in our desires. 

 

Jesus gives the antidote to dragon-sickness. His prescription comes to you in a story. He starts this way. “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” 

 

One’s life – body and soul, Jesus says, does not depend upon, consist of, or rest upon gold, galleons, or loads of stuff…but on grace on gift from God’s hands to your life. This man in the parable falls into the dragon’s lair, thinking everything he has – possessions, wealth, land, abundant crops, barns bursting at the rafters with produce –was all his due…what he deserved, when in fact it’s all gift. 

 

Same is true for you. Everything you have, is as an old radio host once said, talent on loan from God. All you and I have from the soles of your shoes and sandals to the top of your head, everything below and above and around you, everything in your home, closet, driveway, garage, and bank accounts. It’s all gift from your good and gracious Heavenly Father. 

 

This story is called the parable of the rich fool not because this man is rich…anyone can be a fool no matter what’s in your wallet. He’s a fool because he’s self-righteousness. He trusts in his riches, and not the righteousness that comes as free gift in God’s steadfast love. He is a fool because he has the wrong god.

 

‘What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?’ ¹⁸ And he said, ‘I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. ¹⁹ And I will say to my soul, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.”’

 

This is what sin and greed does…it’s myopic. It curves you and I in on ourselves…just like this fellow. Everything is               “I”       “I”            “I“       “My”   “My”   “My”. It’s exhausting.

 

Reminds something the great hymn-writer, Johnny Cash, once sang: 

How many times have…You heard someone say…If I had his money…I could do things my way

But little they know…That it's so hard to find…One rich man in ten…With a satisfied mind

 

The rich fool is like Eustace Scrubb. He’s down with the dragon-sickness. And if all that’s not dark enough, this rich fool is utterly alone. He has no family, no friends, no community to share his stuff with…so he talks to himself. This is what the devil and your sinful flesh won’t point out on the warning labels of your sinful desires: idolatry is terribly isolating and sin leaves you utterly alone. 

 

 So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God.”

 

This part of the story is terrifying. Jesus’ story reveals that there’s a rich fool within you and in me, that is always desiring what is best for I, I I, and what’s mine , mine, mine. It’s the ugly truth, but you and I are idol-hoarders. You and I are like this rich fool, possessed by our possessions, rather than holding them in the open, dead-hand of faith. We’re deadly ill with dragon-sickness.

 

For Eustace and for the rich fool, and for you and I, there is only one cure. It’s not selling everything you have. It’s not even using the good things you have with enjoyment and thankfulness and for your neighbor – that’s the fruit and it’s good. 

 

But the cure is death. For Eustace, in that story, Aslan the Lion came along and tore his scaly, dragon, hide right off of him, dunked him in a pool, washed him, clothed him, and he was a new boy. Dead and alive again.

 

So it is for you. Your life does not consist of your possessions, but in Christ who possesses you by his passion to save. Jesus has un-dragoned you in the pool of water we call a baptismal font. Jesus, the Lion of Judah dunks you in the water, drowns your sin -along with all its desires, greed, and idols – and washes you clean, robes you in his holiness and righteousness, calls you his own. He treasures and cherishes you, lavishes his grace and goodness and gifts of body and soul upon you. Not just once. Not just a little bit. But daily. Abundantly. More than you ask for. More than you deserve. Grace upon grace upon grace. 

 

You are free. Free to thank God for whatever he’s given you, be it little or much. Free to be content in our Lord’s gifts of daily bread. Free to enjoy God’s gifts of daily bread. Free to hold them in the loose, dead hand of faith. Free to use God’s gifts in love and service of your neighbor. 

 

You were dead. But now you are alive. You were dragon-sick, but now you are holy in Jesus. Your life isn’t found in your insatiable desires, but in the incredible, all-sufficient grace of Jesus crucified and risen for you. This is what it means to be rich towards God. To know that you are his treasure. That all you have is a gift. And that today he comes bearing even more gifts. Holy treasures hidden in humble things: water that drowns your sins. words that raise you from the dead. Body and blood in bread and wine that strengthen you against the dragon’s breath by a promise: you are forgiven all your sins.

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.