Fire on Earth

Family conflicts, such as those Jesus references in the Gospel we just heard, have long been a seemingly inescapable part of family life. The Book of ‘Genesis fatally set brother against brother in the very first family. Today on You Tube, enthusiasts of HBO’s The Gilded Age are speculating wildly about the prospects of a big family breakup in the series’ next season. In the 20th century, the First World War was the occasion for a massive and highly consequential drama of family conflict among the interconnected royal and princely families of Europe. Nor, of course, have royalty been the only ones divided by wars. In the 18th century, the American Revolution famously found Benjamin Franklin and his son on opposite sides, while, in the 19th century, in our own American Civil War Abraham Lincoln’s brothers-in-law fought for the Confederacy – family divisions that were widely replicated in the experience of so many families at all levels of society. In the U.S. today, political parties are more ideologically at odds than at any time in any of our lifetimes, and studies suggest that political disagreements have put increasing strain on families and friendships, severing longstanding, once loving and supportive relationships.

Nor are wars and politics the only causes of family conflict. We all know, perhaps from our own experience, how commonly conflicts can escalate among those closest to one another – and how painful that experience can be precisely because of the bond that binds family members to one another, like it or not.

Jesus in today’s Gospel used the potential for family conflict to illustrate his larger point about the complete commitment demanded of every disciple. One of the fundamental facts of life is that saying “Yes” to one particular person, cause, or commitment often entails saying “no” to other options. Thus it is with the decision to follow Jesus - a commitment that is meant to matter enough to change everything. In this matter, Jesus himself set the standard. After all, Jesus did not die peacefully in his bed or while on vacation at the beach. Rather his death was due directly to the way he lived and the opposition which that produced.

 

Of course, no one should want to be at odds with one’s family, friends, country, or whatever. No sensible person should ever seek conflict. But conflict happens – not always, but often enough, and especially in those great either/or choices that produce martyrs (and almost martyrs, like poor Jeremiah in today’s first reading). One of modern history’s more sobering facts is that the past century has produced more Christian martyrs than any other century. And then there are all the ordinary situations, which lack the high drama of martyrdom, but which can on occasion also call for doing something different from what one would otherwise have done, even at the risk of opposition.

Of course, we would all prefer a calm, untroubled life, in a calm, conflict-free world. We voice that sentiment every day when we pray that we may be always free from sin and safe from all distress. It’s not conflict per se to which Jesus calls us. It is commitment which he challenges us to live – to identify what matters most, and to be clear about our purpose in life, committed to what needs to be done (or not done). It is the challenge of being willing to be transformed by God’s grace into the person God wants me to be – and being thus transformed while still a part of an otherwise untransformed world.

And, because we live in an otherwise untransformed world, that transforming experience can at times really resemble a sword separating us from whoever or whatever we would otherwise have so readily clung to.

Jesus does indeed promise peace to his disciples – the peace of his kingdom, a very different peace from a momentary absence of conflict. As Christians, we should not and must not go around with a chip on our shoulder as if we were spoiling for a fight., treating the inevitable and ordinary disagreements that characterize a diverse and pluralistic society as if we were being persecuted. After all, the fruits of the Holy Spirit include love, joy, and peace – not hatred, hostility, and anger (something some segments of Ameerican Christian life seem to have forgotten.).The challenge, rather, is to build bridges, not to knock them down – to pave the way for more and more people to experience the peace and unity of God’s kingdom, yet all the while still struggling against an unconverted and untransformed and hence potentially hostile world.

Homily for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, August 17, 2025.