You know, some mornings it’s easier to love Jesus than others. This morning, Jesus says, "I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled. And you know what? I can’t wait to get this started! You think I’ve come to bring peace to the earth? NO, I tell you, but rather division. Even families will be divided, split right down the middle, loving relationships filled with strife. You’d better know how to interpret the times."

Whew! "I came to bring fire? Not peace but division?" Some mornings it’s easier to love Jesus than others. I vote that we do what the Church has often done when Jesus says things that make him hard to love; let’s just ignore this and talk about something more pleasant.

I think I’ll talk about "The Meaning of Being Church." That sounds safe enough, and I think you’ll find that topic much more comfortable and less unpleasant.

Let’s begin by defining "Church." It’s not a building, and it’s not an institution. In 1967, a theologian named John Knox, an Episcopalian, wrote a report to the House of Bishops that defined the Church as, "a fellowship in the love of God," whose "mission is to be the constantly growing sphere of a constantly deepening reconciliation." Now, isn’t that more pleasant? "A fellowship in the love of God, whose mission is to be the constantly growing sphere of a constantly deepening reconciliation." That gives you a positively warm, fuzzy feeling, and it definitely feels better than talk of fire and division and conflict. I like being in a fellowship. I like that fellowship being in the love of God. I like the idea of a constantly growing sphere of constantly deepening reconciliation. John Macquarrie, another Anglican theologian, defines "reconciliation" as "activity whereby the disorders of existence are healed, its imbalances redressed, its alienations bridged over." I like all that, too. Healing disorders, redressing imbalances, bridging alienations, constantly growing, constantly deepening — this being Church business really feels quite wonderful. One wonders why Jesus would want to say such unpleasant things.

Well, there is one problem. John Booty, a well-known church historian whom I had the fortune to know while I was at Sewanee, wrote a whole book structured around John Knox’s definition of Church as "a fellowship in the love of God, whose mission is to be the constantly growing sphere of a constantly deepening reconciliation." A whole book around that. So, is it a book all about people gathering for Bible study, and supporting one another, and loving one another, and generally feeling good about it all? No. Study and support and mutual care are very important parts of fellowship, but John Booty’s book is titled, The Episcopal Church in Crisis. In it he tracks the Church from 1950 though 1988 (when he wrote the book) and notes that during that time, the Church’s struggle to be a fellowship in the love of God, to be a constantly growing sphere of constantly deepening reconciliation, required it to deal with racial prejudice, evolving understandings of ministry and the role of the laity, the Civil Rights Movement, the Women’s Liberation Movement, the Vietnam War, international relations and human rights, the Ecology Movement, liturgical reform (leading to a new Prayer Book), whether women should be ordained, and, of course, issues relating to homosexuality.

Booty’s book makes the point that to really be the Church, to really strive to be a fellowship in the love of God, to be a constantly growing sphere of constantly deepening reconciliation, is not all about feel-good support and introspection. Every one of the topics I named was highly controversial and divisive, and many still are. And yet, if we are to love the world as God loves the world, desire reconciliation as God desires reconciliation, we have to wade into these turbulent, divisive waters. Otherwise, we might be able to pull off being a fellowship of God’s love, sitting in a tight circle, always looking inward, and feeling good about how much we love one another. But we could never be a constantly growing sphere of constantly deepening reconciliation.

And that quest will never be easy, or popular, or without controversy. William Stringfellow, an Episcopal layman, wrote:

A most obstinate misconception associated with the gospel of Jesus Christ is that the gospel is welcome in this world. The conviction — endemic among church folk — persists that, if problems of misapprehension and misrepresentation are overcome and the gospel can be heard in its own integrity, the gospel will be found attractive by people, become popular, and even be a success of some sort.

Jesus thought that the in-breaking of God as a human being into the world would be like a torch being thrown into to a dry field. He thought that his followers — people who had been formed and shaped in reconciliation, forgiveness, dedication to God, the true power of vulnerability, God’s care for the poor and oppressed, God’s demand for social justice, God’s respect for the dignity of every human being — Jesus thought that his followers would be so counter to the culture of death, and coercive power, and war, and the worship of false gods and wealth and power and prestige, and the oppression and demonization of other people — Jesus thought his followers would be so counter to the culture that they would each be a torch lighting fires in the world.

And he knew that it would get hot. And that it would be divisive.

I’m glad that I don’t belong to a Church that sits in a circle, facing inward, trying to avoid all the unpleasant confrontations, conflagrations, that are inevitably involved in trying to be a constantly growing and constantly deepening sphere of reconciliation in God’s world. For all the pain that it brings us, and it brings us a lot, I wouldn’t trade it for a second.

After Jesus says that he came to bring fire, he tells the people of his day to interpret the times. He’s saying, "You know everything about the seasons, but God is here with you now, and you can’t even tell."

It’s been two thousand years. Lots of fires have been lit. But I read the paper and it’s clear that the world has not been set ablaze. I think this is a good occasion for us to ask whether this isn’t the season for us —for us Christians formed and shaped in reconciliation, forgiveness, dedication to God, the true power of vulnerability, God’s care for the poor and oppressed, God’s demand for social justice, God’s respect for the dignity of every human being — isn’t this the season for us — to light some fires.

Maybe you can’t set the world ablaze. But before you leave here today, I want you to think of one place — one place — where you can strike a match.

The Rev. James H. Pritchett, Jr. St. John’s Episcopal Church, College Park, GA