Theological Truth: God’s passion for humanity cries out for justice, demanding our urgency and agency.
Have you ever been yelled at for no reason whatsoever? I experienced it at a public swimming pool as a young boy. I had just passed my swim test, so the lifeguard had allowed me access to the “deep end.” I was happily diving to the bottom of the pool in search of quarters purportedly hiding in the depths, oblivious to everything and anyone else. As I surfaced, I realized that no one else was in the pool and all the adults were yelling at me. “Hurry up!! Get out of the pool! Faster! Get out of there!” I was startled and confused. What had I done to deserve such anger and condemnation?
Once I got out of the pool, I realized what was going on. A random thunderstorm had popped up and lightning had struck close by. I hadn’t heard the lifeguard’s warning to get out of the pool because I had been underwater. They weren’t yelling because they were angry; they were scared. They were filled with urgency, not condemnation. They were expressing loving concern, not terrifying rage.
But it’s hard to tell the difference when we’re surprised by anger. When we’re being yelled at—particularly for no apparent reason—there’s a tendency to recoil from the verbal assault. We also become defensive and are likely to miss the message as well as dismiss the messenger: “Those people are crazy. I’m not going to waste my time listening to them.” Consider the lack of dialogue between our political parties for example. The lack of dialogue is unhelpful…and dangerous.
The same holds true for the Bible. Sometimes scripture seems to be yelling at us with surprising anger and mind-boggling violence. We hear Isaiah voicing God’s warning to his people: “I will remove [their] hedge, and [they] will be devoured; I will break down [their] wall, and [they] shall be trampled down.” (Isaiah 5:5b) And we think, “Geez. God sure is angry and destructive.” We listen to the psalmist’s lament asking, “Why have you broken down its wall, so that all who pass by pluck off its grapes.” (80:12) And we say, “Hmmm…I prefer the New Testament God to this Old Testament God.” But if we do so, we’ll miss important, life-saving messages.
So it’s helpful to wrestle with these texts today, including the Old Testament-like words coming from Jesus: “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! …Do you think that I have come to bring peace? No, I tell you, but rather division!” Hearing these frightening and surprising warnings forces us to consider a couple of things.
First, God hasn’t changed, but hopefully, our understanding of God continues to grow and deepen. God is who God is and always will be. God hasn’t grown more merciful and forgiving over time like a maturing teenager. There’s a trajectory throughout sacred scripture—in both the Jewish and Christian texts—that reveals God’s consistent, faithful, loving, eternal commitment to restore all of creation to union with God and one another. God’s commitment to the project of redemption has never wavered, will never waver. And it’s more urgent than ever.
This urgency is evident in the unsettling words we hear from Jesus today. This isn’t Jesus having a bad day or God’s violent streak showing up again. Instead, Jesus’ exasperation demonstrates his loving concern, not violent anger. He understands the urgency of our situation and the danger that lies ahead because he sees us swimming in the deep end with lightning all around us. “What the heck are you doing!? Get out of there!” If we can take shelter from bad weather when we see it approaching, why can’t we also see the life-threatening, soul-crushing dangers of the climate we’re living in? Jesus sees the urgency and demands our agency. It’s time to wake up and respond, to tune in and get to work—Kingdom work.
Jesus knows that going against the powers and principalities of this world will not be easy. He experienced the divisions he predicts: three against two, mother against daughter, son against father, and mother-in-law against daughter-in-law. This isn’t desirable, but it’s inevitable; hopefully temporary, not permanent. But necessary, because ushering in God’s way of living and loving challenges the status quo of this world. Sharing God’s passion for the redemption and well-being of ALL people and all of creation always results in conflict and confrontation. It brings division before it brings peace—God’s full, lasting, all-inclusive shalom.
The same was true for Jesus. He began his public ministry by continuing the revolutionary redemption announced by Mary, Elizabeth, and his cousin John the Baptizer. Having been baptized and filled with the Holy Spirit, he returns to his hometown synagogue and reads these words from the scroll of Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19)
It was a glorious moment…but you may recall that while the crowd was momentarily transfixed, they soon after tried to throw Jesus off the brow of the hill of their shared hometown. (Luke 4:29) They were more interested in what God could do for them, rather than through them.
How very human of them. We all want things to change for the better, as long as that doesn’t include changing the things we like, the things we’re familiar with, or the things that provide security for us and our family. But as they say in 12-step recovery groups, “If things are going to change, some things are going to have to change.”
To be personally honest, there are a lot of things I don’t want to change, especially since I’ve followed the rules and worked hard. I kind of enjoy my way of life and standard of living. But that’s like swimming underwater and ignoring the lightning. To say nothing of God’s desire for all of God’s people. The Spirit of Christ continues crying out to us today, urgently demanding our attention and our action, because the life-threatening forces of greed, sloth, violence, anger, and injustice are all around us…and in us…and in our community and our nation.
In Charlottesville, for example, a police study found that in the year before the Unite the Right rally, “nearly 80 percent of stop-and-frisk stops performed by its officers were of Black residents, even though they made up less than 20 percent of the population.” In Staunton, 45 percent of our 10,000 households fall below the ALICE threshold. ALICE stands for Asset-Limited, Income-Constrained, and Employed—working people who don’t make enough to support their families. Nationally, the Rev. Erica Williams notes, “[we] have over 140 million poor and low-income folks in the richest nation in the world.” (We Cry Justice, p. 51) No wonder Jesus is exasperated. His people and his world are in danger. There is urgent work to be done, despite the divisions and conflict it requires.
The Episcopal Church knows a little about causing division and disrupting families. We—the Frozen Chosen, the permanently polite—have chosen full-inclusion for our LGBTQ brothers and sisters: in leadership, as deacons, priests, and bishops, and by blessing their marriages and families. At the recent Lambeth Conference, we saw how it has divided the Anglican Communion.
To my understanding, it was necessary and urgent kingdom work, part of the trajectory of including all people in the liberating love of God in Christ. I am grateful for our Presiding Bishop’s words of hope after meeting and reflecting on the Call for Human Dignity: “We are finding a way to walk together as a Church, and the words of Jesus have echoed in our ears over and over and over again: ‘By this everyone will know that you are my disciples [not that you agree, but] that you love one another.’ And so we are still walking together, and in our Church we are making plenty good room for all of God’s children.”
This liberating Love cries out, alerting us to the dangers of the waters we’re swimming in. This endless love empowers us to face the conflict and divisions that inevitably occur when power-structures are challenged. This sacrificial love enables us to do the work we’ve been given to do while also walking in love with those who may not agree with us, let alone love us.
It may seem easier and more pleasant to swim underwater, but there’s lightning all around us. Time to heed the warning and get to the work of God’s kingdom.
— Fr. AJ Heine, Rector, Trinity Episcopal Church of Staunton
Tenth Sunday After Pentecost, Year C, August 14, 2022
Readings: Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalm 82:1-2,8-18; Hebrews 11:29-12:2; Luke 12:49-56
