Peace that Divides

Sermon preached by Rev. Wesley King on Sunday, August 17, 2025

As we prepare for this word, would you please join me in prayer?

God of healing mercies, we come to you this day as imperfect people. We know that you desire for us hope and happiness and love. Yet, we have found so many ways in which to block your gifts or to grab hold of them as if we are entitled to them. We've been given the pathway to peace in the witness of Jesus Christ. He taught us to live as a people of compassion and service. But our service has often been for ourselves, for our own gratification. We have failed to be your church. We are witnesses on earth. We have neglected the needs of others in our own rush for our own comfort. Forgive us, O merciful God. Heal your wounded spirits, our wounded spirits. Turn us again to you, that we may again learn of your love and mercy, and help us to become partners in peace and hope for others. And may glory be to God our Creator, to Jesus Christ our Redeemer, to the Spirit our Sustainer. As it was in the beginning, will always be, world without end. Amen. And amen.

There's a gym in my hometown that's a faith-based gym, and the logo is this shield with a big kind of gaudy cross on it. The name of the gym I've always giggled at: Resurrected Warrior. I typically giggle or roll my eyes sometimes because it feels a little silly to me that this gym would have that persona of Jesus. But I understand why they call it that. It comes from a literal understanding of John's apocalyptic writing in the book of Revelation.

But I understand that book differently—that it isn’t meant to be understood as a literal description of the end of times, but instead a genre of prophetic writing meant to challenge the powers of empire and give hope to an oppressed and occupied people. Still, this image of Christ that the owner had—or maybe the image of Christ the owner thought might sell more memberships—is fair. Because to be honest, Prince of Peace Pilates doesn’t have the same je ne sais quoi.

Truthfully, I think our culture has many ideas and imagery of who and what Jesus of Nazareth is and who he came to be. Some describe Jesus as someone who wants you to prosper. And while I do believe that’s true, I don’t think twelve monthly payments of $5.99 is how you achieve it. Some describe Jesus as a healer. And I do believe that to be true as well, but I don’t think a bottle of holy water for $10 will fix whatever problem you might have. Some describe Jesus—like the gym in my hometown—as a shredded bodybuilder who, like social media influencers, wants you to achieve your peak aesthetic goals. And I do believe that our bodies are temples and holy vessels that we should take care of. But I don’t think that Jesus cares about the size of our biceps or triceps.

I think many people have made Jesus Christ into their own image, rather than trying to live into the image of who Jesus Christ is as described in scripture.

Now, our text today is a strange one. Jesus, the Prince of Peace, says that he’s coming to bring strife and divisions, and that families will essentially be torn apart in his name. So I want to read this text again, this time from the Living Bible translation. And I also want to offer a method of reading scripture. This is a method that Catholics and Episcopalians often use when reading the gospel message in order for them to ingest it in three different ways. They say, “The gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ: may it pierce our minds, may it pierce our mouths, and may it pierce our hearts.”

Here now from the Living Bible Translation:

"I have come to earth to bring fire to earth, and oh, that my task were already completed. There is a terrible baptism ahead of me, and how pent up I am until it is accomplished. Do you think that I have come to give peace to the earth? No. Rather, strife and division. From now on families will be split apart, three in favor and two against, or perhaps the other way around. A father will decide one way about me and his son the other. Mother and daughter will disagree, and the decision of an honored mother-in-law will be spurned by her daughter-in-law.”

Then he turned to the crowd and said, “When you hear the clouds beginning to form in the west, you say, ‘Here comes a shower.’ And you’re right. And when the south wind blows, you say, ‘Today will be a scorcher.’ And it is. But you hypocrites! You interpret the sky well enough, but you refuse to notice the warnings all around you about the crisis ahead.”

What we know about this passage from Luke’s gospel is that Jesus in this moment is in transition. He’s on his way to Jerusalem, where he will ultimately meet his end. Earlier in this chapter, someone from the crowd of thousands who had gathered to ask Jesus some questions said, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.” And Jesus replied, “Who appointed me as judge or referee between you and your brother?”

Jesus then goes on to say, “Guard yourself against all kinds of greed. After all, one’s life is not determined by one’s possessions, even when someone is wealthy.” I take that to mean that probably the people he was speaking with didn’t have much in the first place.

Later in Luke’s gospel, he is sitting with tax collectors—some of the most hated people in the community—and with sinners. The Pharisees and the legal experts were grumbling and judging him. He also heals a man later in the gospel on the Sabbath, which was against the law.

So Jesus was teaching people a new way of living, a new way of interpreting the law that they had been given—even breaking the law when necessary to care for and love his neighbors. He was challenging Roman and religious authority.

I can imagine those who were listening to him and following him might have returned home to their households or communities, who likely didn’t take too kindly to these new teachings, these broken laws, these words of challenge to the way things were. I can imagine these teachings caused a lot of heated conversations, perhaps over the dinner table. I can imagine fights breaking out as sons, grandmothers, and fathers brought home the radical teachings of this man Jesus, and all the arguments that might have followed.

Think of it this way: we all think very highly of Martin Luther King Jr. now. But at the time, he was marching and obstructing roadways. He was encouraging sit-ins, protests, and rallies. In fact, when he died, he had a public disapproval rating of nearly 75%. And that wasn’t just racists—that was everybody.

And so I think of Jesus the same way. His teachings were radical. He was challenging Roman and religious authority. He was challenging ethnic and racial assumptions of the time. He was challenging gender assumptions of the time. And like MLK, he was making a lot of enemies. And like MLK, he was later murdered for it.

Jesus said, “Do you think that I’ve come to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, I have come instead to bring division.”

Now, I don’t know about you, but that makes me uncomfortable. I grew up thinking of Jesus as the Prince of Peace, as someone who would unite the nations—“Every knee will bow, every tongue will confess.” And I still believe those things universally about Christ. But in this story, we are in a particular part of human history. At this part of the story, Jesus has not yet completed his time on earth.

This summer, I participated in the Center for Faith and Justice program in D.C., and they gave us shirts that said, “If you want peace, you have to fight for justice.” And I believe we are closer to achieving peace because of those who fought for justice. Much like MLK, the peace Jesus was working toward would not be realized until long after his death, resurrection, and ascension. And in some ways, it still hasn’t been fully realized. That’s what we continue to fight for.

That is why we continue to fight for justice now—so that one day that same peace the prophets foretold, that Jesus preached about, and that MLK dreamed of might finally become reality.

Peace does not mean passive. Peace does not mean saying nothing in order not to ruffle any feathers. Peace does not mean taking the path of least resistance when you know what the right thing is, even if the right thing may be much harder.

Jesus starts this passage saying that he came to cast fire upon the earth and how he wished that it were already ablaze. My hometown gym, and those who like me grew up hearing a very literal understanding of the final book of the Bible, might interpret that to mean something apocalyptic, something end-times related.

But think back to John the Baptist, who told the crowds that while he baptized with water, there would be one to come after him who would baptize with fire. And maybe that fire that Jesus is casting is the courage to be Christlike as described in scripture—especially in a world that has made Jesus into its own image.

Maybe that fire looks like taking care of the vulnerable and the downtrodden in a culture and in a society—and even among other Christians—who say that somehow empathy is now an epidemic and a weakness. Maybe that fire looks like taking care of human beings no matter where they are from or where they were born, when our culture, society, and even other Christians generalize them as criminals and lowlifes. Maybe that fire looks like ensuring that we don’t look, sound, or act like our society, our culture, or even our fellow Christians when they aren’t being Christlike.

The Indian philosopher Barodata said in the 1920s, “Jesus is ideal and wonderful, but you Christians—you aren’t like him.” Even last week, Reverend Margie said, “By faith, we proclaim to be a different kind of Christian in this world. One who is not tempted by the powers of greed and pride, but is faithful to a God of humility and love.”

Our passage ends with verses 54 and 55. I’m reading from the Common English Bible now:

"Jesus also said to the crowds, ‘When you see a cloud forming in the west, you immediately say, It’s going to rain.’ And indeed it does. And when a south wind blows, you say, ‘A heat wave is coming,’ and it does. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the conditions on earth and in the sky. Then how is it that you don’t know how to interpret the present time?’”

When I hear this, my mind translates it into something like this: “You seem so self-aware of the obvious around you, yet you have your heads in the clouds. And I’ve told you, but you still don’t understand.”

And I get it. This is a hard passage. It shakes us up. Jesus is using his teacher voice in this moment, and it seems like the folks surrounding him just don’t get it. But we’re not judging. Churches across the world will read this gospel message this morning, and still much of our world won’t get it either.

But that’s where we step in, friends. That’s where we step up.

The front of your bulletin says, “Help us to become partners in peace and hope for others.” And I love that. But don’t be fooled into thinking that achieving that peace and hope only looks like sitting around a campfire singing kumbaya. It means fighting for justice now so that we might someday have peace.

And it might be tough. It might be unpopular. It might be hard and uncomfortable. It might mean uncomfortable conversations at the dinner table with friends and family. But we have been called to so much more. We have been called to bring the kingdom of God to earth as it is in heaven, where each and every person is treated with respect and dignity as a beloved child of God. We have been called to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit the imprisoned. We have been called to be agents of peace and justice and mercy and compassion in Christ’s name.

And I believe that we can do it. I might be naïve, but I believe that our fight is not over.

I offer this prayer as we close today. I pray that you receive it in this moment, take it with you into your week, and live it this week:

Christ, who has called us to be so much more than this world might offer, help us to become partners in peace and hope for others. Help guide us in how we achieve that peace and hope. Be with us, be before us, be beside us, and behind us in this work. And may the fire that you have baptized us with ignite our bones to do your will on earth. May it be so. And may we make it so with our living and our loving.

Amen.

Looking for video of older sermons? Check out our YouTube Channel.