Yesterday, I saw an interview on TV with a woman whose home of 30 years had just been destroyed by fire in less than six minutes. In six minutes, every aspect of her life was devastated: the pictures of kids growing up, gifts and mementos, everything. The destructive power of fire is particularly frightening. It inescapably puts us face-to-face with the fragility of all we treasure in this life. It reminds us that other things can happen in six minutes or less that are equally devastating. A conversation with a doctor in which we learn of a deadly diagnosis can devastate all our plans in less than six minutes. In less than six minutes, our world may be shattered by the death of a loved one. These devastating experiences seem to be an inevitable part of this life. What is really troubling about today’s Gospel is the seeming suggestion that Jesus is not just our companion in the face of such devastation, but came to in fact cause some form of fire-like devastation. Where is “warm and fuzzie” Jesus in today’s Gospel? Where is the Jesus who said, “Peace I give to you; my own peace I leave with you?”
Now that we have named the elephant in the room, I am going to ask him to be seated for a few moments. Let’s go back to those inevitable forms of devastation that we encounter in this life. Maybe if we can learn something about them together, it will help us to get acquainted with the elephant. I encountered a great teacher just a few weeks ago on the topic of devastating turns in this life. I went to visit a woman who had recently qualified for hospice care. We know what that means. It means death is expected to be fairly imminent. I really had no idea what to say to her about this, but thankfully, God had made a prior pastoral call. When I sat down, she said to me, “I have a kind of peace I have never known before. I’ve been fighting to stay alive because I thought I had work to do. Sure my children are grown, but they are not all perfectly situated. I have been thinking it is my job to love them into happiness. But then I woke up in the middle of the night, and this truth surrounded me: I have to entrust them to God. The same God who gave them to me must be trustworthy to care for them after I’m gone. The same God who planted the vineyard that is my life, must be trustworthy to care for it, trimming its wild branches, even after I’m gone. And ever sense I received this gift of trust, peace has filled my entire being.”
Jesus must want us all to receive such a gift of trust in God, no matter what we face. We can know this, because he modeled such trust when, soon after the speech in today’s Gospel, he walked into Jerusalem and to the cross. He was displaying complete trust in God, despite the worst this life can dish out.
Do you recall that image of a devastating fire we started with? I’m sure you’ve not only seen footage of forest fires, but you’ve also seen pictures of landscapes affected by raging fires after some time has passed. In a matter of fewer than 10 years, new growth is evident. It is new growth that never could have emerged without the fire, because most forests are full of dead wood that cuts off sunlight and air. Most of us have dead wood in our lives that impedes the growth of trust. That must be why Jesus would love to light a blaze. Jesus must be itching to take a blowtorch to the dead wood that blocks us from knowing full trust in God. That’s what the elephant is all about.
I don’t know what the dead wood in your life is. Our heroine in the story I just told confessed to suffering from worry and anxiety before she grew in trust. If anyone here is free from worry and anxiety, come on up and finish this sermon, because you have much to teach us all. The ego is a source of other dead wood. The ego is not altogether bad; it prompts much accomplishment. But it also can produce some rapid growth, just like wild branches on a vine, branches distant roots cannot sustain. They wither and die. I’ll confess to an example in my life that happened just yesterday. I was driving home on Interstate 5 when a fellow cut me off. Some anger didn’t surprise me. What surprised me was this: for 5 hours I could think of nothing other than the insult done to me. My ego was so affronted I wanted to catch up with this fellow and explain it all to him. Finally, it occurred to me, “Kathleen, tomorrow you are going to preach on trust! How about trusting God to be at work in this fellow’s life.” Letting go didn’t come quickly.
Many of us have a favorite image of Jesus. It may be affected by a picture that was on the wall of a Sunday School class or in some other significant place. Some of those pictures show Jesus carrying a lost lamb, or knocking on the door of our heart, or surrounded by cute children. For your meditations this week, I urge you to throw all those pictures out. Replace them with a picture of Jesus holding a blowtorch! Blowtorch Jesus is longing to destroy all the dead wood of our lives that blocks full trust in God. So hold on to that image of blowtorch Jesus and pray with me—