20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, C August 14, 2022
Fr. Alexander Albert St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette
Water and fire. Hearing this Gospel, it might be tempting to focus on Jesus’ promise to divide families, but we’ll miss the point of this if we miss what he’s saying about fire and water. These two have certain things in common: both can be used to cleanse and purify and both can be used to kill and destroy. Often, it is by destroying that they purify. Dirt and grime dissolve in water – are kind of destroyed – to be washed away. Fire can melt metal to purify it and so make it stronger.
It’s for this reason that these are the two “elements” used by God to both destroy and renew the world. The great flood in Noah’s day wiped out the world but also enabled Noah and his family to begin anew, forming a new covenant with God. Scripture promises that the next time God destroys the world, it will be with fire.
So, when Jesus talks about burning the earth and about his baptism, he’s invoking this apocalyptic background. We hear that and think of the end of the world. That’s not wrong, but “apocalypse” also means “revelation.” For scripture, the apocalypse is not just about the end of the world, it’s about the final revelation of God and, through that, the revelation of who we really are and what our lives mean.
Water and fire are also connected to two very important sacraments. The first is obvious because Jesus himself says it: baptism. He says that he’s eager for baptism, but we know John already baptized Jesus in the Jordan river much earlier in the story. What’s he talking about? His crucifixion. Baptism is symbolic of washing away sin, but it’s also a symbol of entering into death, specifically death that comes from faithful obedience to God and the truth. It taps into that double meaning of water as giving both life and death.
Which brings us to an interesting image in the first reading. Jeremiah gets thrown into a cistern, which is supposed to be a water storage tank. But since there isn’t enough water, it’s just mud and Jeremiah is stuck. It’s a real historical event, but it’s also an excellent metaphor for our own souls. When baptized, we were filled with the waters of grace and given a share in the power of prophecy, the power to hear, speak, and live the truth of the Gospel. But when we let the waters of grace run dry, we fill up with mud instead and the word of God in us – symbolized by Jeremiah the prophet – gets bogged down. Like Jeremiah, God’s word in us is in danger of dying when left in the mud.
What’s the solution? You know. It’s to “rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us” as our second reading puts it. But that’s not so easy, is it? Once you’re dried up, stuck in the mud, it’s hard to get out of that hole isn’t it? Notice that Jeremiah didn’t free himself either. It was a friend of his, Ebed-Melch, who went to the king to intercede on his behalf. Then the king sent his servants to get him out before he died. This is a sign to us of the power of a friend’s prayer.
That power extends not just to friends still living, but to our friends in heaven, the saints. The “cloud of witnesses” mentioned in our second reading… it is their help that makes getting rid of sin more plausible. Ultimately, it’s all by grace which God is happy to pour out through his son, the “leader and perfecter of faith.” Christ is the source of grace, but by sharing in his baptism – both by water and by suffering – we become channels of grace for others. This is true in a ritual way in the sacrament of confession and in a general way through the prayers of the saints and members of the Church. This is why Christ is so eager to be crucified that he is in anguish until it is accomplished. He wants to hurry up and get to the tribulation so that he can then get to the restoration.
This is the insight into his teaching about division. The point is not that Jesus delights in breaking up families – obviously not. It’s that our world is fallen; there is only one way to renew it and raise it up: through tribulation. Baptism kills sin in order to give the life of grace. Baptism configures us to the crucifixion so that we can share in the resurrection.
So the waters of baptism put sin to death and invite the renewal of grace. What then does the fire do? It is the sacrament of Confirmation, the pouring out of the Holy Spirit, the enduring influence of Pentecost. Where Baptism is turn away from sin to God, Confirmation is the turn toward others in love. It’s why Jesus can’t just leave people alone.
Living our baptismal call is avoiding sin and seeking holiness, even to the point of being willing to shed our blood. Do this long enough and people will hate you because your example convicts them of their own sinfulness. Living our confirmational call often accelerates this because it kind of makes us meddlers. We don’t just want get to heaven… it’s not enough that we are on fire with God’s love, we want others to go to heaven, we want the whole earth to be on fire!
How do we do that? The first step is to take seriously your baptism. Get out of the mud, go to confession. You might think it’s a private matter, but I promise you it’s not. I daily pray for you, many of our parishioners daily pray for you. The saints – that cloud of witnesses – they pray for you. And our king is sending help in the form of the sacraments to refill your soul with grace. It is literally why I’m here.
Then you need to catch on fire. Ask for the Holy Spirit. Do it often. Get confirmed if you aren’t already. Then fan the flames. We add fuel to the fire by practicing good works. Resolve to do at least one act of charity – a good thing that does not benefit you at all – each day. If you already do this, try to dig a little deeper. Take an unselfish interest in the souls of others. We mustn’t nitpick, manipulate, or nag. But we must cultivate a genuine love for them. A love that means we value their souls more than their approval, that would rather miss out on the “fun” of sinning with them so it can pray and sacrifice for them, a love that motivates us to speak up when prompted, to knock on doors, to risk embarrassment. Yes, we might lose friends or family for a while, but if they don’t accept Christ and his cross, we’re going to lose them anyway. We might as well do it in a way that gives them a chance to be reborn.
From the perspective of wood, fire seems like destruction, but it allows that wood to give light and heat. So too, what seems like division and death to us, if endured with faith, is actually the way to peace and life. That fire is here, in the heart of Jesus Christ, will you let it catch?