Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

Luke 12:49 - 53
When we hear today's gospel, it doesn't sound like the Old Familiar Jesus.  In fact, it doesn't sound like Jesus in other parts of scripture, where he says things like “Peace I leave you” or “Peace be with you” or the peace I give is not like the peace the world gives.”  Here, he tells us he did not come to bring peace, but division.  He wants to set the world on fire, he wants to begin this process of setting family members against each other; he wants this so badly that it causes him anguish because it isn't happening already.  So what is going on?
Well, Jesus does bring peace.  In Hebrew that word is “Shalom” and is more than a truce between enemies.  It conveys rest, satisfaction, completeness, fulfillment.  And we have any number of saints to look at to see that giving oneself completely to Jesus results in just that kind of peace.  Saint Augustine, was raised by a Christian mother and pagan father in a time when most of the time you would not be baptized until you were an adult and made that choice.  Before his baptism as an adult, he flirted with different religions, taught philosophy had a son with his common law wife.  One day he had a mystical experience in which a child-like voice told him to take up and read.  He had a copy of Paul's letter to the Romans, and his eyes fell upon the line, “let us live honorably as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy.  Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.”  After that he embraced Christianity wholeheartedly and soon became a priest.  Later in his life he would talk about his own experience and remind us that “Our hearts are restless until they rest in thee, O Lord.”  There is something about that kind of profound peace that those of us who aren't saints yet yearn for.  And there are so many other examples; We even see this happen with the apostles who after Jesus' death go from a fearful bunch hiding from the Jewish mobs to people who preached openly in the temple.  And we see martyrs cheerfully going to their deaths, because they have this peace.  So Jesus does bring peace, he brings shalom, to those who accept it.
But in this gospel Jesus is not talking about that kind of peace, and he is not saying that it is his intention to divide people.  He is predicting what will happen, though , and telling us that every human being who chooses to truly follow him can expect trouble, can expect that even those nearest and dearest will not understand.  And we see that happening as well. 
We know that following Jesus is counter cultural; it always has been, because the world is full of so many wonderful things, so many pleasures; and we all believe it is better to be wealthy than to be poor; and to be admired rather than ignored, and to be successful rather than to be a failure.  And yet Jesus on the cross is in pain, is poor, owning nothing but a loincloth; is ignored or even spit upon by those passing by, and is definitely a failure at being the kind of Messiah his people were expecting.  And yet he tells us to take up our crosses and follow Him.  Of course he promises that if we do this we will have eternal life, and if we don't we won't, but most of us are quite happy being of the world, because we think there is a compromise here.  We can have the good things of the world and still have eternal life.  I'm hoping that is true, needless to say, but I wonder how things will be when I am forced to make a choice, a hard choice, a choice that will divide me from my loved ones, or from the things that I love. 
And then I wonder what kind of Christian I really am?  How does Jesus see me?  I'm a pretty bland sinner.  When I go to confession, I have a hard time coming up with new sins; it's always the same old ones – I put off stuff I should have done, I spend more time on the computer than is good for me, I let my mind wander when I am praying – and I can't really think about anything that is terribly serious, although I know that that is probably true of most of us.  If I'm a typical penitent, it's a wonder the priest doesn't run screaming from the confessional out of sheer boredom.
But what if I had to confess what I have failed to do?  I passed a ragged man holding a cardboard sign saying “homeless vet”  and looked away.  Maybe he was faking it, but I guess if I had a choice I wouldn't spend my day like he does.  Or I think about someone who is going through a hard time and tell myself it won't be much help if I call her up with some words of comfort.  Or I feel the urge to extend my ministry as a deacon to a new venture, and decide not to.  Or here's one.  I write a line as I am composing this sermon and realize it would probably hurt someone's feelings so I cross it out and think of something less threatening.  I think if I had to confess all the times I've failed to live up to what Jesus calls us to do, it would be a long confession. 
I think this is what causes Jesus to express his frustration.  He knows he has a limited time to teach his disciples, and while he realizes that the moment is soon coming when he will take away the sins of the world through his sacrifice, he wonders whether it will make a difference.  One of the things about working in a nursing home is finding so many people who were raised Catholic, went to Catholic schools, even raised their children Catholic, but when asked about whether they belong to a church reply that they dropped out, they are indifferent, they are spiritual but no longer religious.  And if I were with Jesus I would say, “but look at all the people who still go to Church!  Look at all the great Saints that followed you and still follow you!”  And he would say, If that person was the only human being on earth, I would have still died for him, and it breaks my heart that he is rejecting what I want to give him. 
Today's gospel reminds us that if an outside observer could not tell whether we were a Christian or not, then we are doing something wrong; and it tells us that if our attempt to follow Christ causes us a little discomfort, we are on the right track.