Sunday, August 18, 2013

Jesus throws a curve

A paradox is like a curve ball.  It shouldn’t physically or logically happen, but it does.  The foundation of Christianity is paradox.  Without paradox, there is not Christianity.

The master takes on the form of a slave.  Through death, we gain life.  The last shall be first and the first shall be last.  The greatest among you is the slave of all.  Happy are those who are poor, who mourn, and who are persecuted.  Through our weakness, we are strong.

Today, Jesus presents throws us another  curve.  “Do you think that I have come to establish peace on earth?”  (Lk 12:51a) Well, yeah, that’s certainly what I thought.  Remember those angels proclaiming peace on earth when Jesus was born?  Yet Jesus goes on to describe the great divisions that will result from his coming – divisions that will rend all of society even down to its basic unit – the nuclear family.  Why would this be?   More paradox.  It doesn’t seem to make any sense at all…and it doesn’t, as long as I apply human, earth-based logic to divine, heaven-based salvation.

We live in a world of finite resources, a world which usually rewards hard work with a bigger share of those finite resources, a world in which the fittest survive and the weakest die, a world where happiness is inextricably tied to pleasure, possessions, power, and prestige, a world which in which I have a discrete beginning and an inevitable end.

In such a world, some are winners and some are losers.  In a finite world, this is logically inevitable.  Stuck in that world, my focus becomes making sure that I and mine work hard enough to deserve to be among the winners.

But then Jesus comes.  He offers God’s infinite love and eternal life to one and to all, the rich and the poor, the powerful and the lowly, the happy and the sad, the saints and the sinners.  And all he asks is that we follow him and live generously, lovingly, and radically – to the point of being a slave to all, to the point of laying our lives down for another – just as he became a slave for all of us, just as he laid down his life for us.

And while this may sound like good news – isn’t infinite happiness and eternal life what we’ve been waiting for? – Jesus knows that not everyone will think it so.  Jesus understands that the winners of this world will think they don’t need to be slaves.   They’ve already put in their time and are now enjoying its rewards.  They don’t need to lay down their lives for somebody else, for if others worked as hard as they did, or were as good as they were, those others could earn their own reward.

Jesus’ coming does not comfort these people, it burns them.  All their hard work, all their success, all their status, wealth, prestige and power goes up in smoke.  As I do, they do.  They seek to avoid being burned.  Who would want that?  They separate themselves from anyone carrying this message as surely as I separate myself to protect myself from anyone who wishes to harm me or take from me what is justly mine.  If the fire is too close and I can’t separate, I try to eliminate and dowse the fire.

Thus when Jesus comes, even though he may desire peace and joy and unity for all, divisions are as inevitable as death and taxes.  Those who feel burned by the message will be separate themselves from, and, if necessary, persecute those who burn them – and that would be Jesus and all who follow him.

So, if I am alive and I don’t feel the divisions or the persecutions, one of two things is true – and neither of them is good.

First, I have been completely successful in insulating myself from Jesus’ word, that it has no effect on my or on any of those around me – we are living comfortably in our finite, rewards-and-punishments, self-centered and pleasure-driven world.  I don’t try to live as Jesus wants me to because I believe I’m doing fine on my own.  There is no need for faith, for I’ve already saved myself.  I’ve rejected God.  Ironically, shielded from the burning on earth, I’m living in the burning fires of hell.

The second option is not much better.  I listen to Jesus.  I think I’m living as he wants me to, but I still don’t sense that people are trying to avoid me or insult me for this.  Certainly nobody is persecuting me for this.  I guess that’s what heaven is like, but the violent world around me certainly isn’t heaven.  So how closely am I following Jesus?  If my commitment to Jesus doesn’t cause others to look askance, to be discomfited, to be burned by it, how hot is the faith in my heart.  I have faith, perhaps, but it is a cold, not burning.  I’m not all the way to hell, but I’m certainly headed towards it.

They threw Jeremiah into the muck of a cistern; they hung Jesus on a cross.  Where is the cistern or the cross in my life?  Jesus tells me if it’s not there, I haven’t listened hard enough or followed closely enough.  I am lost. 


Seek out and pick up the cross, give thanks to God for the cross, carry the burning cross of selflessness, the burning cross of generosity, the burning cross of love, the burning cross of Jesus – and the kingdom of heaven is ours.

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