The Rev. Carol S. Wedell

If I stood up here and yelled "Fire!" what would you do?  Hopefully, you would head to the doors as quickly and calmly as possible.  Why?  Because we all learn at an early age that fire is dangerous - it can destroy and kill.  It is a powerful force and should be treated with respect.  We have fire safety days in schools - even preschools.  Kids - if your shirt caught on fire, what should you do?  We teach our children not to play with matches or to stick their hand near an open flame, because we appropriately fear the damage that might be done.

A few years ago some apartment buildings in Beachwood were destroyed by fire.  A family who attended Fairmount Presbyterian Church lost virtually everything between the blaze and the water damage.  They were fortunate because they were not home at the time of the fire, so there was no loss of life. As immigrants, they did not have much to begin with and were grateful for gifts of bedding, clothes and food.  Yet it was still a terrifying event and a staggering loss for them.

It was one of the few times I have been close to those who have been through such an ordeal.  Isn't it a frightening thought?  It's enough to make each of us go home and check our smoke detectors.  Fire is a powerful force - and not a tame one, at that. 

So what are we to make of these odd words from Jesus this morning, "I came to bring fire to the earth!"?  On this nice, relaxed summer morning, this is not exactly what we expect to hear from him, is it?

Close your eyes and get a picture of Jesus in your mind.  What's he doing?  Saying?  My hunch is that the Jesus most of us think of is the calm and mild mannered lover of children.  He's the one who heals the sick, calms the storm, embraces those who mourn.  The Jesus we know and love is a balm for our souls, a companion through tough times, a big brother we can turn to in times of need.  Or perhaps some of us might think of him as an infant - sweet and vulnerable, the Prince of Peace.

Have you ever thought you knew someone, only to have your assumptions about them abruptly challenged?  Well, the reading from Luke's gospel this morning stands in stark contrast to our more common understanding of Jesus as meek and mild.  We wouldn't sing, "what a friend we have in Jesus," to these words!  These words shake us up and leave us wondering.  Listen again to this contemporary paraphrase:  "I've come to start a fire on this earth - how I wish it were blazing right now! ....I've come to disrupt and confront." (Luke 12:49-51, The Message)  How do we make sense of this?

Well, if we think about it, we have to acknowledge that the full picture of Jesus is not merely of a passive, quiet kind of guy.  After all, he wasn't killed for his silence!   We've seen Jesus angry as he cleared out the temple of money-changers, we've heard him use very direct words with those who put tradition ahead of the real needs of people.  Too often, it seems, we have been tempted to "tame" Jesus - to keep him in some kind of safe little box where he can't disturb us too much.  It's easier to view Jesus as our comforter rather than as the one who challenges us at every turn.

We also may have forgotten that the imagery of fire is fairly common in the Bible.  God was made known to Moses through a burning bush.  The reading from Jeremiah this morning reminds us, "Is not my word like fire, says the Lord, and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?" (Jeremiah 23:29).  The God who is revealed in the Hebrew scriptures is readily identified with fire and the potential for destruction that fire brings. God is not tame! 

Fire is often associated with the movement of God's Spirit - a powerful, restless Spirit that blows where it will.  On the day of Pentecost when God's Spirit was given to the church, flames of fire rested on the heads of those gathered, suggesting a new, vibrant energy for the church.   

To be sure, fire has the ability to destroy.  But that's not all.  If it's not out of control, fire has the ability to be life-giving:  to keep us warm, to cook food, to help burn away impurities.  The Israelites were led to the promised land by a pillar of fire - that lit their way in the darkness.  Fire can help us see. Last Sunday evening our youth sat around and thoroughly enjoyed a campfire - talking, laughing, eating as many s'mores as they wanted, while the blaze crackled in front of them.  Is there anything better than a campfire on a summer evening?  There is something dynamic about fire that draws us in.  

Fire implies a kind of wild power - a power we too rarely see in our lives, a power which can change and transform and shake us up.  Sometimes, fire clears away the old so that something new can come.  Perhaps you have been to a fire ravaged area and seen the growth of new trees that would have never have found a place to grow prior to the fire.

Jesus is telling us that the new realm he is building can only be built when some of the "deadwood" has been burned away. He's telling us that he has, in fact, come to disturb us out of the comfort of our familiar routines and viewpoints.  Jesus is coming with a raw, holy power - like fire on the earth. His harsh sounding words are a reminder that if we seek the peace found in the reign of God it will not come without a cost.  Following Jesus is not an easy thing to do. There is some old stuff that will have to go, in order to make room for the new.

Perhaps some of you saw the 2001 movie, "Life as a House."  The main character, George Munroe, is a middle-aged architect who has big dreams.  He owns a piece of prime ocean front real estate, on which sits a very sorry looking shack.  He dreams of replacing it with the kind of dream house perhaps only an architect can imagine. Only he never seemed to get around to working on it. When he bought it there were no other homes nearby.  But as bigger and better homes have sprung up, you can imagine the neighbor's concern over this pathetic blight on their neighborhood. They are concerned that he is "bringing down property values."

George's life is in no better shape than this dilapidated house.  He is estranged from his wife and son, loses his job and faces a health crisis to boot.  Now, without other things to occupy his time, George gets to work on the house.  But in order to build his dream home, he first has to tear down the old shack.  So bit by bit, he takes it down.  Beam by beam, it comes down.  In the middle of destruction, hope arises.  The much maligned eyesore is transformed.

As his old house is destroyed and his new house begins to take shape, something else occurs.  George himself undergoes a kind of transformation.  George begins to take time for the people in his life:  he deals with the neighbors, and enters into authentic communication with his wife and son.  What was broken gives life to something new.  What has been cleared away now leaves room for a life that is worth living. (With thanks to Timothy V. Olson for his use of this movie with this text, The Minister's Annual Manual, p. 38-9).

That's the kind of fire Jesus brings - a demolishing force that clears away the underbrush, the deadwood, the weak branches, in order to make way for God's new realm.  We can't tame Jesus to make him easier to manage, any more than we can truly tame fire.  Even within the supposedly safe confines of a fireplace, if you put something into the flames, it's going to get burned.

It has been said that the greatest challenge to American churches today is boredom.  If that's true - and it well might be - I would suggest that it's not because of the kind of music we do or not play, it's not because we use or don't use projectors and screens, it's because we have attempted to "tame" the gospel.  We've made it boring! We avoid the tough words, the places that make us squirm. The solution, if you will, is not to provide a more "entertaining" style of worship - but to let Jesus' words challenge us and shake us up.  Jesus did not call his disciples to comfort, but to help bring God's vision of what the world should be.

And so Jesus asks those who have gathered around, "how can you miss that things aren't as they should be?  You understand that when thunderclouds gather, you'll likely get rain!  Can't you look at your world and see that I'm not happy with how things are going?" Jesus' criterion is fairly simple.  Anything that does not demonstrate love of God and love of neighbor needs to be burned away.

Jesus tells us to examine the present time - the days in which we live, and see what needs to be done.  Who did you walk by this week that was in need of assistance?  Who did my busy schedule cause me to overlook?  Friends, we are those who are called to help bring that fire - to disrupt whatever does not reflect the justice and love of God.

If you're like me, there is probably a big part of you that would rather take the safe route - avoid the fire, and not risk getting burned.   But that is simply not the kind of life to which Jesus calls us. 

I'm reminded of a member of a church I once knew who was absolutely terrified of having lit candles in the sanctuary - particularly on Christmas Eve.  To be fair, he was correct - having many lit candles in a packed sanctuary probably isn't the safest scenario.  However, he was even more concerned than the local fire marshal!  He had all kinds of suggestions -- like having buckets with wet rags at the end of each pew that he thought would keep things under control.  

I think a lot of us are like him.  We don't really want that fire around in the first place.   And if we catch a glimpse of it, we do everything we can to put it out.  We would rather stand away, looking, than risk the potential danger of the flame.  But the kind of life to which Christ calls us, is a life that is willing to take chances, that is willing to live passionately, working for God's new realm.  It's not a safe life - but it is a life worth living, full of meaning, purpose and joy.

Singer Garth Brooks, has a song entitled, "Standing Outside the Fire" that says it well. "Standing outside the fire.  Life is not tried, it is merely survived, if you're standing outside the fire."

Mere survival?  Or life as God intends it to be?  Bring on the fire!