family first? maybe not.

 

SERMON PREACHED at HOLY TRINITY,

RINGWOOD EAST

ORDINARY SUNDAY 20

 (August 20^th) 1989

 

READINGS

Jeremiah 38:4–6, 8–10
Psalm 40:2, 3, 4, 18
Hebrews 12:1–4
Luke 12:49–53
 

It is a favourite ploy of politicians from the conservative side of politics, to issue a call for a return to biblical values and the prioritising of the family unit. The two elements are bracketed together as if the Bible, in all its diversity, has nothing to say except a kind of manifesto of family unity.

 Such a reading of the Bible reveals only that its proponents have not read the Bible. Our reading today is not the only one that cuts through the narrative of so-called family unit “Woman, what have you to do with me?” (John 2:4) remarks Jesus to his mother at Cana. “Who are my mother and my brothers?” (Mark 3:33) he retorts when a crowd tell him that his family awaits him outside in Galilee.

His priority is not human, but the will of the one he dares to call “Abba,” his “father in heaven.”

It is that notion that underscores his harsh words, unfathomable words, of our gospel reading today. It is a question of priorities. Elsewhere Jesus is very protective of the respect owed to one’s parents, as a glance at Mt. 15 would demonstrate.

Jesus then is once more turning societal expectations upside down. By his treatment of the Pharisees who refuse due honour to their parents in Mt. 16 it seems that he wants his followers to subscribe to the mores of respect and obedience on which Jewish family life is based. But he wants that to be placed in a greater perspective. Even that, the very basis of family life, must take second place to the demands placed on his people by God, the Ultimate Parent.

Jesus’ apparent inaccuracies and contradictions do not stop there. “Do you suppose that I have come to bring you peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” Where does this claim stand in the light of Jesus’ earlier words, “your faith has saved you. Go in peace” (Lk 7:50,  8:48). Similarly, his instructions to the 72 missionaries to declare to recipients of the message, “Peace be to this house” (Lk. 10:5)?

If peace, shalom, lies at the heart of Christian salvation, why does the Saviour here contradict and seemingly scorn that peace? If in our Anglican liturgy we long for the Christ-spoken words “come to me all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest (Mt. 11:28), or Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you,” (Jn. 14:27) why does Jesus here categorically deny that the way for his followers is a way of peace?

The answer is hinted at in the readings that we have today from the book we know as Hebrews. “We must … run with resolution the race for which we are entered, our eyes fixed on Jesus” (Heb. 12:1-2). The peace of which we speak is eschatological – that is it is the peace that dwells at the end of the Christian’s race, the Christian’s life.

It is not unique to Christianity – indeed it is common to almost all religions – although the way in which it is grasped, attained, is unique to Christianity. It is the peace for which the saints long as they face the horrors of martyrdom. It is the peace that allows me to stand with confidence at the graveside or at the death bed as I administer God’s death-transcending love.

It is not all that Christianity offers. For Christianity speaks also of God’s judgement, of God’s mercy, and of the resurrection of the body. But it is the peace that is the beginning of the experience of the eternal.

Jesus, then, is making it quite clear to us that Christianity offers no easy way out. It is not, as some claim, a cop out, except in so far as it offers hope in the face of our mortality.

Luke places this event in Christ’s journey in between the commandment to be alert, to live in readiness for the second coming – to live as if now were the hour – and the tragic news of the slaughter of 19 Galileans by Pontius Pilate. The implication is clear, that Christ will return – or that our deaths may come – and that we must be ready for that event, living lives of faith to the full.

Living lives of faith to the full, and being prepared to enter the hard and dangerous way that it is to follow Christ. The way of the cross is one of pain and misunderstanding.

For the son treats the father with contempt,
    the daughter rises up against her mother,
the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;
    your enemies are members of your own household.

Do not rejoice over me, my enemies;
    when I fall, I shall rise;
when I sit in darkness,
    the Lord will be a light to me.

                                    (Micah 7: 6-7)

 

So writes the Old Testament prophet Micah in a passage echoed by Jesus. But the message of Easter, after that of Good Friday – is the radically good news of hope-in-suffering.