Luke 12:49-53
When we think we know somebody, we
really know an image of that person. Sometimes it's pretty accurate,
and other times it's very wrong. I think we've all had the
experience of being betrayed by someone we thought was a friend, or
discovering that someone we knew had a dark side. This can and often
does happen in a marriage, when a spouse discovers that her mate is
not the person she thought she married. Sometimes it turns out that
the person reveals a hidden side and sometimes it's something good.
I remember when I was young I was walking down Main street with my
favorite uncle, who stopped, reached in his pocket and gave some
change to a homeless person. In those days, of course, a handful of
change could get you something to eat. I saw my uncle through new
eyes – saw that he was compassionate and generous. I remember
another time when I was about eight years old and a friend and I
together had a collection of little toy cars and trucks. We used to
keep them all together and take turns bringing them home. One day I
discovered that my friend had moved, and taken the box with him.
Being eight, I didn't have any idea of how to find out where he had
moved or how to get in touch with him. But until he gives me my cars
and trucks back, I'll always think of him as a thief.
We have an image of Jesus as well, and
it's not the real Jesus. Most of us want to form a relationship with
him and that is a life-long process. But he reveals himself to his
friends gradually. And probably most of us are content to know Jesus
as someone who is gentle and kind and loving, and wants us to spend
eternal life with him. That of course is true; the scriptures tell
us that. But today we hear another Jesus – who wants to bring fire
to the earth, who says that one of the consequences of his mission,
of God becoming man, is that those relationships which mean so much
to us, even those organic relationships of members of families, will
be disrupted; there will be times when our relationship with Jesus
will change love, not to indifference, but even to hate. Jesus in
the gospel we've just heard, is showing us a different side; he's
showing us that he is eager for the painful transformation of the
world and the human suffering that will be an inevitable consequence
of that transformation.
Jesus wants us to obey the
commandments. That's the bare minimum. He really wants us to follow
the beatitudes; that's the Kingdom of Heaven that Jesus came to
initiate on this earth. But we don't all reach that point at the
same time, and when we enter the Kingdom of heaven, when we become
peacemakers, when we mourn the wars and abortions and human suffering
caused by greed and selfishness enough to do something about it; when
we ourselves decide to get off the train and live lives not enslaved
to consumerism … you get the idea. When we decide to become what
Jesus calls us to become, we are going to meet opposition, even from
those we love the most. There is data to show that one of the
biggest causes of marital discord is when one spouse is trying to
grow spiritually and the other is not. And we know that even among
Catholic families the day one's son or daughter announces that he or
she has a religious vocation is not always welcomed, and sometimes
vigorously opposed. And we find that in our parish family as well;
people who are not very invested in their parish family sometimes
make unkind remarks about people who are more invested. “Who does
he think he is? Holier than thou?”
Maybe a corollary of what Jesus is
saying is that if we aren't getting a little flack from friends and
loved ones about our religion, about our attempts to live
gospel-inspired lives, then we are probably not doing it right. If
we are serious about our relationship with Jesus, we will experience
pain. Jesus said, “If any man come to me, and not hate his father,
and mother, and wife, and children, and brothers, and sisters, yes,
and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.” Jesus, of course
does not mean that we should hate in the modern sense; but he is
saying unequivocally that we have to put him above even our own lives
if we truly want to be a disciple. If today were not a Sunday we
would be celebrating the feast of Saint Maximillian Kolbe, who truly
lived this gospel. When you read his life story, you can see how he
burned himself out for the sake of the gospel, publishing newspapers,
founding two monasteries, one in Poland and one in Japan; building
up a movement called “Knights of the Immaculata” which still
continues to draw men to lives of greater devotion; and Kolbe of
course gave up his very life in Auschwitz so that another man, a
father and husband, would be allowed to live.
Most of us aren't called to do what he
did; but perhaps most of us could do more. In the gospel Jesus longs
for that moment when fire is brought to the earth, when the division
he brings will be realized; when those of us sitting on the fence
will have to make a real choice. I think a Christian should want
what Jesus wants as well. We know our world is not the way it should
be. Our world is sadly out of balance and you don't have to go
beyond the first page of the paper to see that. Today's gospel
invites us to join with Jesus in doing something about what's wrong –
not merely complaining about it. Maximilian Kolbe and literally
every other saint longed for the fire, longed for the division that
would accompany the realization of the kingdom of Heaven. And in the
hearts of each of us who have been baptized, there is a little of
this longing as well. Through prayer and fasting and giving of
ourselves we can fan the flames so that we also long for the kingdom,
and more importantly, do something about it. Jesus also said
“everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or
mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times
as much and will inherit eternal life.” That's the other side;
when we put him first, there is no limit to what we can accomplish.
