4th Sunday after Pentecost
34“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. 35For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; 36and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.”
This is one of those sayings of Jesus that I really don’t like. I really don’t like it a lot. It just sounds so wrong, on so many levels. I really don’t like it. Probably because, deep down, I know it’s true. That’s what happens when the truth gets told. When the truth is let loose. When the truth is finally uttered.
There are times when you’re called to speak your truth. There are times when you’re called to stand up for what you believe, even though the consequences may not be to your liking. I’m thinking of the woman who finally tells her parents that her marriage has become abusive, and they refuse to accept it, accusing her of over-reacting. I’m thinking of the nervous young man who tells his parents that he’s gay, and their response is to throw him out of the house. I’m thinking of the girl who reveals her history of sexual abuse at the hands of a relative, and nobody is willing to believe her.
Truth is not always received with serenity and grace. Or as Angie Thomas writes, “Sometimes you can do everything right and things will still go wrong. The key is to never stop doing right.” It’s not that the intention is argument, antagonism, or hostility. But peace is often hard to come by when the truth ends up actually being said. And Jesus is telling the truth to his disciples. He’s telling them, “If you think people are going to automatically accept the truth I’m asking you to speak, you’ve got another thing coming. The Kingdom of Heaven is not a tranquil or quiet existence, free from disturbance and discord. The Kingdom of Heaven disrupts. The Kingdom of Heaven is unsettling. The Kingdom of Heaven upends things. The Kingdom of Heaven calls into question the rulers and systems that promise peace, but who wield a sword of terror and weapons of forced allegiance, armed with what they think is power. The Kingdom of Heaven comes with the demands on which true peace insists. And it never lets go of the kind of peace God has in mind.
This is Jesus’ truth-telling at its best, actually. There’s no sugarcoating. Because when you stand up and speak out for what you believe, people start falling away. Believing in Jesus – believing in what Jesus says, what Jesus stands for, and then admitting it – is risky business. Relationships will change. Relationships could very well end. This is, in part, what Jesus is saying. When you stand up for what you believe, nothing will be the same ever again. Anticipate being unfriended. Unfollowed. Tried and trolled.
We live in a culture rife with injustice, and in sore need of the truth. Women have to decide whether or not to tell the truth about sexism, knowing that in naming this truth, relationships will likely have to be adjusted, even severed. LGBTQ persons have to decide whether or not to be true to themselves, risking ridicule, emotional abuse, and even physical harm, or to stay hidden. Persons of color have to decide whether or not they name their fear in a country where systemic racism continues to be validated.
As the church, we need to decide whether we will actually tell the truth of the Gospel: The Gospel that brings true peace to those who suffer, to those in need of healing, to those who are marginalized, to those who are demonized, to those who are oppressed. God’s true peace, realized and known in gladness and joy, fulfillment and contentedness, happiness and blessedness. In other words, the healing and liberation that are the hallmarks of the Kingdom of Heaven.
Is that the truth we’re willing to tell? Or will the church, out of a fear of rocking the boat, out of a fear of death, maintain mediocrity, perpetuate its own privilege, and stay silent. When pushed toward God’s peace, are we truly prepared to embrace an empty tomb, the reality of the resurrection, and that the Kingdom of Heaven can happen here and now? Or will we decided to play it safe, passing over this verse as if Jesus was feeling particularly dyspeptic on this day and in a hyperbolic mood?
The thing is, what Jesus has to say today can be anxiety and fear-provoking. So, it’s important to remember that what Jesus says in this week’s lesson is a continuation from last week’s reading. One of the commentaries that I’ve been reading on the book of Matthew notes that what Jesus is really talking about between last week and this week is the idea of apprenticeship. Last week Jesus gathered the twelve disciples and then sent them out, saying to them, “7As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ 8Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.” Take a moment to consider that job description: "cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons." That could be Jesus’ own resume. Jesus not only sends them out with power to validate the kingdom's nearness but to announce it using the very same words as their teacher: "The kingdom of heaven has come near."
We need to remember that when Jesus addresses his followers or his disciples that we are included in that number, as well. We are expected to resemble Jesus in word and deed. In other words, to be sent by Jesus is, in a sense, to be sent as Jesus. Not that we need to begin developing a messiah complex. But Matthew boldly reminds us that master and apprentice, while clearly distinct in their roles, inevitably bear a resemblance to one another. And that’s clarified for us in today’s lesson, in verse 25: "it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master.”
In an apprenticeship, the learner is instructed in a craft by mimicking the master's craft until the apprentice, too, has mastered the craft and can, in turn, take on apprentices. In an automated, self-help world, the master-apprentice model seems quaint and antiquated. When I needed to learn how to sharpen the blade on our lawnmower I turned to YouTube, rather than signing up for an internship with a master blade sharpener. But becoming Jesus' disciple is of a far different order than lawnmower repair because the costs are incalculably higher. Most of us probably remember someone who has helped us become who we are, a teacher, a colleague, a family member.
What Jesus speaks to, here, is the intensity which a life of discipleship demands of us. That kind intensity requires a parallel intensity in the bond we have with Jesus. The idea that mission can simply be tacked on to church life or the Christian "lifestyle" as a secondary concern does not line up with Jesus' words here. To become an apostolic witness, according to Jesus, is to experience the intensity of a relationship in which the student becomes a profound reflection of the teacher. Channeling Martin Luther, C. S. Lewis claimed that: "[T]he Church exists for nothing else but to draw [people] into Christ, to make them little Christs."
Being a disciple can and must change us. In his book, Tokens of Trust: An Introduction to Christian Belief, former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, tells the story of a young Jewish woman named Etty Hillesum. Hillesum was in her twenties when Germany occupied Holland. She was not a particularly religious person, but between the years of 1941 and 1943, as she watched her world fall apart, she became deeply aware of God’s presence in her life. Imprisoned in the transit camp at Westerbork (before being shipped to Auschwitz), Etty wrote: “There must be someone to live through it all and bear witness to the fact that God lived, even in these times. And why should I not be that witness?” She decided to occupy a certain place in the world where others could somehow connect with God through her. She took responsibility for making God credible in the world. She took responsibility for God’s believability. To anyone who’s paying attention, it should be clear that the world is again in need of such a witness. One that makes God credible in the world. One that takes responsibility for God’s believability. This is precisely that to which Jesus calls the disciples and us. We are called to make belief in the kingdom of God credible for the world in which we live. Not just when belief is easy, but also — and especially — when belief feels impossible.
If we think that discipleship can represent part but not the whole of our lives, Jesus offers a harsh and, for many of us, uncomfortable word. But for those willing to accept this comprehensive call, his words promise care and sustenance in the midst of costly sacrifice (Matthew 19:27).
In his address to the Delaware-Maryland synod assembly a few years ago, Bishop Bill Gohl said:
“…we have to dare to take some risks; to do some things that we’ve never done before or to do it again and to do it differently; to move out of our comfort zones and to take seriously that while salvation is a free gift of God, discipleship costs everything. And while recognizing that each one of us has a relationship with Christ and a conscience to which we must be accountable, the days of holding one another and the church hostage to our fear and insecurities has got to be over. We bicker over church-dividing issues, we bicker with such ferocity while forgetting that we are living breathing images of God, and our life together is about Jesus. We preach Christ crucified and the reconciliation that comes from such love and faithfulness, but boy do we fall short sometimes living it out.
We preach Christ crucified… “whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” Interestingly, this is the first time the cross is mentioned in Matthew. But it’s not in direct reference to Jesus' crucifixion. Instead, it’s a prerequisite to following Jesus. Until we take up our cross, we cannot begin to comprehend the way of Jesus Christ, who took up the cross. The apostles’ preparation for Jesus' death and resurrection was not a matter of thinking the right thoughts or being able to grasp it on a cognitive level. Matthew’s point is that only mission in the way of the cross can prepare us for recognizing the Christ of the cross when he comes. In other words, when Jesus returns, when he shows us his hands and feet we will recognize him, but not simply because they show proof of his crucifixion. They will be familiar and recognizable to us because they will match our own wounds.
So why bother if all we can expect is discord and difficulty? First, in addition to all the difficulties, Jesus also promises something else: that when we engage in discipleship, the work of the Kingdom of Heaven, we are in God’s hands. “29Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. 30And even the hairs of your head are all counted. 31So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.”
Second, by engaging in the work of the Kingdom of Heaven we gain everything: “39Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”
But most important is what results from doing Kingdom work: Healing and Liberation. Healing and liberation are the center of ministry. Healing and liberation are the heart and soul of discipleship. Healing and liberation shouldn’t sound new to us. They are the summarization of Matthew’s Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount, which form the theological core of discipleship. True discipleship, true participation in bringing about the Kingdom of Heaven must make God’s presence clear and unequivocal. True discipleship makes God credible and believable. And God’s presence means that healing and liberation are at hand. There’s not one place in this world that couldn’t benefit from the healing and liberation that are found where the kingdom happens. Not in the world, not in this country, not in this area, this congregation, not even in our own lives.
But God has given us the gift of the Holy Spirit. God has given us the power to live transformed and transformative lives. When we make a conscious effort to immerse ourselves in the communal practices of the church; when we genuinely seek to grow as a people dedicated to God and each other, we will experience the liberation and healing produced when the kingdom of heaven happens. When we embrace that way of being and living, we take up our cross of Apprenticeship with Christ, doing the work of Christ: Curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing the lepers, casting out demons. Making God once again credible in the world. Making God once again believable. And that, Sisters and Brothers, is how we change this community, this country, and indeed, the world.
AMEN