Friday, August 23, 2019

Sermon for Pentecost 10: "Through the Fire"



+ 10thSunday after Pentecost – August 18th, 2019 +
Beautiful Savior Lutheran, Milton
Series C: Jeremiah 23:16-29; Hebrews 11:17-12:3; Luke 12:49-53

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


“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! Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. For from now on in one house there will be five divided, three against two and two against three. They will be divided, father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.”

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

There’s no doubt about it. 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? 

We can better understand Jesus’ pyrotechnic preaching by looking at the context and content of Jesus’ words. 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 what Jesus is saying to us today in these words.

First, some context. Throughout Luke 12, Jesus addresses several groups of people: His disciples. The crowds who follow him. 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 to our ears at first, Jesus’ words have 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, like we hear from the fiery preacher of repentance, John the Baptist. 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 that saves.

For Jesus is the one upon whom the fire of God’s wrath for sin will fall. On the cross, God’s wrath is kindled, not against us, but Jesus. We’re like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, as Jesus is crucified in the fiery furnace of God’s wrath to save us. Jesus passes through the fire so that we will not be burned. 

For that 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 go this lonely mission. His eyes are fixed to the cross like a cyclist zeroed in on the last leg of the Tour de France.

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

When Jesus speaks of fire and baptism, he’s pointing his disciples and us ahead to his crucifixion for us. It’s no accident that his ministry begins and ends with Baptism. First his watery baptism in the Jordan as he placed himself under God’s wrath as our substitute. Then his bloody 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. To you. For you.  

Jesus’ baptism set him on the road to Calvary. It was the washing of the Sacrifice. “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” And Jesus was compelled to see His baptism through to the end and its fulfillment when He could cry out, “It is finished.”

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 God in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting men’s sins against them, the peace of God’s justifying Word that declares us righteous for Jesus’ sake alone, the peace of a quiet conscience knowing that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

This, then, is the irony and paradox of the Christian life. Living in this 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. 

I’m sure 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. It’s a sober reminder that we don’t find the family of God in ancestry.com, but in the cross; in the font; and at the altar – in the communion of saints.

Jesus himself was no stranger to division. For that’s exactly what happened to him on the cross. The Father against the Son. 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 we 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. 

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