Tenth Sunday after Pentecost | Sermon: Rev. Paul M. Turner, Senior Pastor | Reading: Luke 12:49-56
Then he turned to the crowd: "When you see clouds coming in from the west, you say, ‘Storm’s coming’ — and you’re right. And when the wind comes out of the south, you say, ‘This’ll be a hot one’ — and you’re right. Frauds! You know how to tell a change in the weather, so don’t tell me you can’t tell a change in the season, the God-season we’re in right now." (Verses 54-56)
Due to technical difficulties, our Facebook Live of this worship service was truncated, so here is the full text of the sermon:
Opening Prayer: Loving and inclusive God, we gather today as a community seeking your wisdom, your truth, and your guidance. Open our hearts to your Word, challenge us to see the world as you see it, and empower us to live as agents of your justice, love, and peace. Amen.
Today’s Gospel reading is not an easy one. Jesus speaks of fire, division, and the breaking apart of families. These are not the comforting words we often associate with the Prince of Peace. But as we sit with this text, we are reminded that the Gospel is not always comfortable. It is, however, always transformative.
Luke 12:49-56 invites us to wrestle with the tension between the radical love of God and the harsh realities of a world resistant to change. It challenges us to interpret the present time, to see where God is moving in our world, and to respond with courage and faith.
This section can often be misinterpreted to suggest that Jesus intends to divide. But this is farthest from the truth.
Jesus is telling us that by his very presence and nature, his unpopular and unconventional message of love, inclusion, and restoration for all people would not go over well with some. Jesus’ first-century world was riddled with division—economic, political, social, religious, and every imaginable kind. The ill often went untreated. The rich kept getting richer. Those with flaws or differences were outcast. While the religious elite flourished with power and money due to their pacts with Rome and their own self-righteous laws and traditions, those who didn’t “fit in” were excluded from Jewish acceptance. Damn does this sound familiar?
Jesus’ message of radical love and inclusion was a fire that burned through these divisions. It was a call to reconciliation, to the restoration of relationships, and to the creation of a community where no one is left out.
Today, we are called to interpret the present time. What are the fires of transformation burning in our time? Where is God calling us to act, to speak, to love? Perhaps it is in the fight for racial justice, the movement to address climate change, the struggle for economic equality, or the work of welcoming refugees and immigrants. Perhaps it is in the quiet, everyday acts of kindness and courage that build a more just and compassionate world.
Jesus begins with a striking declaration: “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” Fire, in Scripture, is often a symbol of purification and transformation. It burns away what is unjust, oppressive, and harmful, making way for something new and holy.
This fire is not destruction for its own sake. It is the fire of God’s love—a love so fierce and uncompromising that it refuses to leave the world as it is. It is a love that confronts systems of power and privilege, that challenges the status quo, and that calls us to be co-creators of God’s reign of justice and peace.
But transformation is not easy. It is disruptive. It is uncomfortable. And it often comes at a cost.
Maya Angelou’s quote about butterflies is: “We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” This highlights our tendency to admire the end result (the butterfly’s beauty) without fully appreciating the difficult process of transformation (the caterpillar’s journey) that was necessary to achieve it.
How blessed are we to be able to watch and witness our sisters and brothers in the Trans community transform right there in front of us in all it’s agony of transition and, it’s awesome glory of transformation?
Jesus speaks of division—of households torn apart, of parents and children, siblings and in-laws at odds with one another. John Dominic Crossan offers us a lens to understand this: the division Jesus describes is not about faith in him as a person, but about the reign of God’s love breaking into a world that is structured by power and oppression.
Throughout history, we have seen how the pursuit of justice and equality can divide families, communities, and nations. Think of the abolitionist movement, the fight for women’s suffrage, the civil rights movement, and the ongoing struggle for LGBTQ+ rights. The fight to let a Transperson read a story book to a child! The ability to got to the bathroom in peace!
These movements have often caused painful rifts, even among those who love one another, because they challenge deeply ingrained systems of power and privilege.
Jesus’ words remind us that the reign of God is not neutral. It takes sides—with the oppressed, the marginalized, and the vulnerable. And when we align ourselves with God’s love and justice, we may find ourselves at odds with those who benefit from the way things are.
So the hard challenge that becomes the “main thing is Reconciliation.
In 2015, North Carolina public “found-object” sculptor, artist William Massey, created a piece called “The Art of Reconciliation.” Look at your bulletins…Hold picture up to Camera
Inviting more than 200 people from Atlanta to clean up discarded objects from the streets, he then hung the objects onto a metal frame and asked the community to paint their personal stories and creative images onto the “abandoned junk.” The art sessions welcomed all members of the community, including the homeless, local business folk, veterans, children, and others. No member of the community was left out.
The result was the image of a man named Tony. Tony had been homeless, but with the help of his community, he was supported and lifted back into recognition of his worth.
Today, he is employed and a contributing member of the community. Massey’s sculpture of Tony “stands as a testament not only to the unity and generative culture which creativity can foster, but …it is a monument of hope and redemption for each of us.” Massey’s art pieces all echo his commitment to fostering reconciliation within communities, healing division, and building wholeness within communities and individuals.
Digging deeper into the meaning the word “reconciliation” in Luke’s Greek refers to the process of restoring relationships that have been broken in some way by conflict or division. These relationships could be those between individuals or communities. The process of reconciliation involves addressing the roots of the conflict and then listening, taking responsibility, apologizing, making amends, and working to rebuild trust.
Reconciliation is a way of healing with love what anger, pain, rejection, and mistrust have divided. Reconciliation makes whole what has been spliced and diced. Reconciliation introduces integrity and restores harmony and unity even among those who appear radically different.
Massey’s art, made up of “rejected trash,” proves that nothing and no one is dispensable and that when communities come together, people will become strong, whole, restored, and beautiful.
The Gospel is not a message of despair. It is a message of hope. The fire Jesus brings is not meant to destroy us, but to refine us. The division he speaks of is not the end of the story, but the beginning of a new creation.
As we face the challenges of our time, let us hold fast to the promise that God is with us. Let us be bold in our love, steadfast in our pursuit of justice, and faithful in our hope for a world transformed by God’s grace.
So now, church, the question is this: What will we do with this fire? Will we let it burn within us, igniting your courage to stand for justice, to speak truth, to love boldly? Or will we smother it with fear, complacency, and the comfort of the status quo? Jesus didn’t come to bring us comfort—he came to bring us transformation. He came to set the world ablaze with the fire of God’s love, and he’s calling us to carry that flame. Remember as your pastor it is not my job to make you comfortable!
Look around you. The world is crying out for reconciliation, for healing, for justice. The divisions Jesus spoke of are still here—economic inequality, systemic racism, environmental destruction, political polarization, and the rejection of those who don’t fit into society’s narrow definitions of worth. But here’s the truth: we are not powerless. We are the hands and feet of Christ in this world. We are the ones who can take the discarded, the rejected, the broken, and, like William Massey’s art, transform it into something whole, beautiful, and redeemed.
This is not a time for passive faith. This is a time for action. This is a time to let the fire of God’s love consume our apathy and ignite our passion for change. This is a time to step into the hard, holy work of reconciliation, to tear down the walls that divide us, and to build a world where no one is left out, no one is discarded, and no one is forgotten.
So go, Go and be the fire. Go and be the light. Go and be the love that transforms this world. The time is now. The call is clear. The fire is burning. God Bless you!