Strange Fire

Bible Text: Luke 12:49-56 | A Sermon preached in Duke University Chapel
on August 18, 2013 by the Rev. Meghan Feldmeyer
 

Jesus has been hanging out in Galilee and by today’s passage he is traveling toward Jerusalem. Crowds continue to gather and grow wherever he goes…because, well, he’s a pretty cool guy. He’s been healing folks along the way. Demons are cast out. And not surprisingly, Jesus has been teaching as he goes. A parable here, an exhortation there. In fact, earlier in chapter 12 of Luke, Jesus’ teachings feel rather reassuring and cozy…he tells his followers not to worry, to consider the birds of the air and lilies of the field, reminding them that they are precious in God’s sight. And hear these words of comfort, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” (Luke 12:32) This is my kind of Jesus…with his gentle ways and kindly prose. But then, fast forward just a few verses to today’s passage…it feels like Jesus has had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. “I have come to bring fire to the earth, and oh how I wish it were blazing already! Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth? No! I’ve come for division!” Jesus is confronting and disrupting and turning things upside down. Well then. What happened to considering the lilies? And our preciousness in God’s sight? Where did this angry guy come from? Perhaps he needs to sit-down with Dr. Phil. Or at least have more coffee.
We don’t really like talking about this Jesus, do we? This Jesus feels wrathful and angry and intimidating. The wrath of God is a hard sell. Not many kids are memorizing this verse about fire and division at church camp, nor do people embroider it on pillows or hang it in the entryways of their homes. But it is a mistake to skip over this passage or to assume that Jesus’ anger has no place in our modern, and so-called “sophisticated” grown-up theologies.
So let’s turn to something a little less grown-up. In the children’s novel The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis, four British siblings enter a coat closet and discover a whole other world called Narnia. This magical world is filled with talking animals and the original Lion King, a lion named Aslan, who rules over all of Narnia. The youngest child Lucy strikes up a conversation with Mr. Beaver, asking about Aslan, “is he quite safe?” to which Mr. Beaver replies, “”Safe?…Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.” Of course God isn’t safe, but God is good. There are those in the kingdom of God who like to dwell on the fiery rage of God…the seemingly “unsafe” parts that scare us and seem to be trying to coerce us into obedience…but that kind of thinking leaves little room for the goodness of God. Many parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles understand the anger that can come in the midst of real love. One of my friends said to me, “Before I had kids, I never knew I could love so much, or that any one person could make me so angry.” Loving parents know the unique heartache and rage that bubbles up when a beloved child becomes enchanted by or entangled in things that lead to their child’s grief or harm. Similar to a parents’ love, God’s anger, holy anger must always be viewed through a lens of God’s love, which may feel fierce and overwhelming, but which we know to be fundamentally good.
There is a difference between wrath that is rooted in hatred and wrath that is grounded in profound love. Anger that draws its energy from hatred is dedicated to destruction and death, but anger that is motivated by love is dedicated to growth and edification. Edification is intellectual, moral, or spiritual instruction in order to be enlightened and uplifted. It is the process of fully becoming the person or community that God intends. If someone says something that edifies you, you may find it helpful and instructive and enlivening. However, sometimes an edifying truth has a bit of sting to it…like hydrogen peroxide in a wound. Cleaning agents may sting and burn, but ultimately, the peroxide is there to do good work. It purifies the wound, removes all the dirt and debris that can poison it, and readies it for healing. The edifying anger of a good God may not feel easy or loving, but because it is grounded in love, it is offered with hope for your building up and your flourishing, not your destruction. Edifying anger seeks only to destroy the things that could ultimately destroy and harm you.
Anger and fire are metaphorically linked in this passage, as they are in much of scripture. But fire is not just a sign of anger, it is a sign of transformation. Think back to Moses’ encounter with the burning bush at the foot of Mt. Sinai. When he encounters the great “I am” in the burning bush, this experience leads Moses to a place of conflict with Pharaoh and the overthrow of Egypt, but also the liberation and freedom for God’s chosen people. This was a fire that burned, but didn’t destroy. In the book of Daniel, the young Jewish boys, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego find themselves facing execution by an angry King Nebuchadnezzar because they would not worship the King’s idol. They are thrown into a fiery furnace of blazing fire and yet are left unharmed. When the king looks into the blazing furnace, he doesn’t see the destruction of the three boys, but his eyes are transformed as his eyes are opened to the presence of God. This was a fire that burned, but didn’t destroy. The prophet Malachi refers to God the refiner who sits by the fire. (Malachi 3:2-3) We don’t have a whole lot of professional refiners around the market these days. But in ancient times, a refiner, otherwise known as a silversmith or goldsmith, did show up on a lot of street corners. The process of refining a precious metal removes all the impurities from the precious metal…to enable it to be molded and shaped free from things that mar and deform the metal and lessen its value. It is a fine art, which requires careful attention. The refiner is attentive and deliberate, carefully watching the silver as he holds it in the fire until the silver is purified. This is a fire that burns, but doesn’t destroy. God is the refiner, carefully holding his gaze on each of us as he refines precious metal until it reflects his own image back at him. The fire of God’s anger is directed at injustice, at oppression, at the sin of the world and of our lives…at a systemic level and at an individual level…and it burns away until what is precious and beautiful is revealed. This fire edifies us so that we are transformed into the likeness of Christ. It is no wonder that fire has also come to signify the transforming power of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is a fire that burns, but doesn’t destroy. But let’s be honest, we’re talking about fire. And we all know that fire does burn. And burns hurt. The process of transformation is not always one without pain. Anyone who has been through significant personal transformation knows this pain first hand. The good news for us is that God is not just the refiner by the fire—the one who places us into the fire—but God is the fire. God is right there with us in the searing heat of the flames, burning with us until all is made pure.
Remember that God is with you in the fire, and that you are being molded into something precious. Like the ashes left after the forest fire produce rich soil, the ashes left behind after the strange fire of God’s refining are the starting point for new life. Amen