This sermon was originally preached at St. David’s by the Sea in Cocoa Beach, Florida on the Fourth Sunday After Pentecost (Proper 7A). The lectionary texts were Genesis 21:8-21; Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17; Romans 6:1b-11; Matthew 10:24-39.
Teresa of Avila, was a 16th century theologian, writer, mystic, Carmelite nun, and Doctor of the Church. She became the central figure of a movement of spiritual and monastic renewal, reforming the Carmelite Orders for both women and men. Her reforms, however, were met by significant hostility from those who were opposed to her more austere view of faith and practice. Their response was to throw her out of the convents she had established.
There is a persistent legend which claims that on one occasion, Teresa was turned out at night in the middle of a rainstorm. Dressed from head to toe in her coarse wool habit, she got back into her donkey cart and was riding along when the wheel of the cart hit something and the cart turned over, dumping Teresa into the mud. She sat there, wet and alone in a mud-soaked habit, looked up to heaven, and said, “Lord, if this is the way you treat your friends, it’s no wonder that you don’t have many.”1
We have been given a set of “difficult passages” this morning. At first read, you might find yourself quoting Theresa on the Lord’s treatment of his friends. The good news, however, is that there is great hope to be found in these challenging texts, I assure you. The reality, though, is that we need the Holy Spirit to both break open the text and to break open our hearts, minds, eyes, ears, and imaginations to get there. With that in mind, let’s pray:
Come, Holy Spirit, come like a fire and burn,
Come like a wind and cleanse;
Convict, convert, and consecrate our lives–
to our great good and to thy great glory. Amen.2
In Matthew 10, we are thrust back into the same narrative we have been in for the last two weeks. Open your Bibles to Matthew 10 because I want you to see this Matthew 10 passage in context. Last week our gospel narrative focused on the gathering, commissioning, and sending of the disciples. This rag-tag collection of twelve ragamuffins is scattered into the towns and villages of Galilee with the task of proclaiming the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ curing the sick; raising the dead; cleansing those with a skin disease; and casting out demons. They are sent to the “lost house of Israel” to remind God’s chosen people of God’s covenantal promises. Our passage this morning, therefore, is very much embedded within the instructions that Jesus is giving his friends before they go on their missional way.
It is so dangerous to read verses 24-25 out of context–it wouldn’t be a sermon if I wasn’t complaining about the lectionary compilers. These are not stand alone verses; they “go” with what Jesus was talking about in verses 16-23: Jesus was talking about persecution. And he wasn’t suggesting that persecution might come for the disciples as though it was plausible or possible. Rather, he was warning them of the inevitable persecution that would come their way.
I fear that new Christians are done a disservice when they come to faith. There is a prevalent assumption that when one comes to faith in Jesus all of their troubles will cease. There is a naive belief that life will be full of sunshines, daisies, shooting stars, and rainbows once Christ has entered your life. Jesus doesn’t promise the cessation of hard times or trials, but rather the transformation of those events and circumstances through his peaceful and powerful presence. Remember, the tshirt you need to buy is not “Too blessed to be stressed” but rather, “Even when I’m stressed I’m blessed.” One quick read of Matthew 10 will dispel you of all notions related to a stress-less, worry-less, problem-less Christian life.
Jesus’ comments in 24-25 about teacher and student or master and slave is in direct response to his previous commentary on persecution. Jesus is both the teacher and master in this analogy and if he is being persecuted then as his followers they will not escape the persecution.
The reference to Beelzebul is interesting because it is the first of two times that Matthew will use that name in his gospel. The second mention occurs two chapters later in Matthew 12 after Jesus has cast out a demon. The Pharisees accuse Jesus of casting out demons because he is in league with Beelzebul, “the ruler of the demons.” Rather than recognizing the presence of God in their midst, the Pharisees persecute Jesus by claiming that he has power over darkness because he is in alignment with the darkness.
But there is also a hint of hope in these two verses: while we cannot surpass Jesus the master and teacher, our Lord tells us that we can be like him. The goal of the Christian life is not to attempt to surpass Jesus–an impossible, Sisyphean feat–instead, we are called to grow more and more into Christ’s likeness, day in and day out, as we are convicted, converted, and consecrated by the Holy Spirit.
Jesus then seeks to comfort his soon to be sent-out-ones. After telling them that they are going on a mission and that they will face persecution, he tells them not to be afraid. Jesus is able to tell them to not be afraid because he is the very shalom of God. Jesus can tell them to not be afraid because he is the all-powerful one, the bringer-and-embodiment of God’s peace.
He is the one who calms the storm and who stills the waves;
He is the one who gives sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf;
He is the one who heals the sick, makes the lame walk, and raises the dead to life;
He is the one ushering in God’s Kingdom and announcing Jubilee for sinners and ragamuffins.
Jesus tells the disciples to “not fear” three times. They are not to fear earthly persecution because, as the hymn goes, God has his eye on the sparrow. And if God’s eye is on the sparrow, then he will be watching over you.
This is neither Jesus’ first nor his last avian analogy in Matthew. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells his listeners to “consider the birds of the air.” Jesus says their food comes from God and then asks: Are you not of more value than they? Earlier in chapter 10, Jesus tells the disciples that they are to go out “as innocent as doves.” In chapter 13, Jesus shares the parable of the mustard seed in which the tiny mustard seed will grow into such a large tree that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches. Finally, in chapter 23, Jesus says of Jerusalem, How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings. Matthew loves a good bird reference and what we are invited to grasp in this passage is that if God has his eye on the sparrow…if God is providing for the needs of the tiny and seemingly insignificant sparrow…won’t he do it for you? Whether it is protection from earthly persecution or dark spiritual forces, our great God will provide for your every need!
In verse 32, Jesus states that he will acknowledge before his heavenly father those who acknowledge him before others. This is a promise of action, but before we consider what it means to “acknowledge him,” we need to understand that God’s promises are sure–they are trustworthy and true–because he always fulfills them.
Genesis 21 shows us this. So, turn in your Bibles to Genesis 21. The lectionary picks up the story in verse 8. The text says, The child grew and was weaned. Who is this child? It’s Abraham and Sarah’s son, Isaac.
This is the son for whom they had been waiting 25 years.
This is the son who caused Sarah to laugh because she was old.
This is the son whom YHWH had promised.
Look at verse 1: The Lord dealt with Sarah as he had said, and the Lord did for Sarah as he had promised. God did precisely what he said he would do! He told Abraham and Sarah that they would have a child; he told an old and childless Abraham that he would be the Father of a vast nation. Here, in verse 8, Isaac has now weaned and Abraham throws a feast to celebrate.
A happy ending, right?
Wrong!
Sarah gets angry. She is upset because Ishmael, the son of Hagar the Egyptian, is playing with Isaac, the son of promise. Hagar is Sarah’s slave. In Genesis 16, it was Sarah who conceived of the idea that her husband should “go into her slave” Hagar to conceive an heir. Let’s be very clear: Hagar had no choice, no consent in the matter. The term used throughout scholarship to describe such a relationship is womb-slave. Hagar’s body, including her womb, belonged to Sarah, because she belonged to Sarah. Hagar’s involvement in the story of God’s chosen people is against her own will as an oppressed person.
Friends, it is never a good idea to help God “fill in the gaps” of his own plans. God chooses to involve us in his plans; he even invites us to participate in his ongoing work of redemption and reconciliation in the world, but make no mistake: God does not need us to play union supervisor or quality control specialist! Sarah acted outside of God’s plan because she believed she knew better than God. She did not trust that God would do what he had promised.
Sarah’s plan succeeds: Hagar conceives a child. But then Sarah complains that Hagar looked at her with contempt. Ultimately Sarah beats Hagar. The language suggests a horrific brutalization; such is the fate of the young slave girl who has been given over in sexual intimacy against her will to bear a child that she has not wanted.
Here’s where it gets interesting in chapter 16, and this has much to bear on 21: Hagar runs away after her beating and there she meets “the angel of the LORD.” This is no mere angel, though, my friends. We read “angel of the LORD” but we are to understand that this is the LORD, a pre-incarnation manifestation of the second person of the Trinity. Hagar has encountered YHWH in the wilderness and YHWH promises to give Hagar a multitude of descendants through Ishmael just as YHWH promised to do for Abraham through his son. Hagar responds to the promise by naming God. She calls him El-Roi, or the God who sees, as in, the God who sees me. Listen to that: this foreigner, this slave girl, this nobody is seen by God, is heard by God, and is given a promise by God. Praise God that he acts outside of and in spite of our disobedience!
Back to 21, Sarah tells Abraham to cast Hagar and Ishmael out because Ishmael is no longer necessary to Sarah’s interpretation of God’s plan now that she has Isaac.
Abraham is distressed, but YHWH reassures him. First, he tells Abraham that the promised inheritance of a great nation will be through Isaac. Second, he tells Abraham that Ishmael will also become a nation. YHWH keeps both of his promises, the one made to Abraham concerning Isaac and the one made to Hagar concerning Ishmael.
Abraham sees them off early in the morning and sends them away with a skin of water and some bread. When the waterskin is empty, Hagar assumes that death is inevitable. The text says that she “lifted up her voice and wept” believing that they are to die in the wilderness.
But YHWH has other plans because YHWH made a promise, and when YHWH makes a promise he keeps his promise.
YHWH reminds Hagar of the promise for Ishmael.
If YHWH is “the God who sees” in chapter 16 then in chapter 21 he is “the God who hears.” God both sees and hears a foreign slave girl, both making and keeping his promise to her illegitimate son.
If YHWH is willing to make and keep a promise with someone outside of the chosen people, if YHWH is willing to provide for the needs of the lowly sparrow, how much more so will see and hear you, how much more will he make and keep his promises?! Romans 6 says that you have been adopted into the family of God through the death and resurrection of Jesus–set aside for new life, not new sin. You have died with Christ and been raised to new life in him, because his promises are good!
With that in mind, we come back to Matthew 10 and we read Jesus’ promise to the disciples and we understand that Jesus will fulfill his promises. As I have said many, many times before: faith is trusting that God is who he says he is and that he will do as he has promised.
Matthew 10 is ultimately a passage based on Jesus’ promises. He promises to send the disciples out with the authority he has given them. He promises that they will have the words to speak when they are asked to give a reason for their actions. He promises provision of food, drink, and shelter. He promises persecution. He promises to acknowledge them.
And then he promises a sword.
And we’re right back to a challenging text.
The sword here is not a physical sword–for Jesus will later tell Peter to put his sword away–but the sword that is the word of God. Jesus is the word, the divine logos, and in Hebrews we’re told that “the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow.” That word will divide.
The preaching of the gospel requires a choice: Jesus is divisive not for the sake of being divisive but because women, men, and children need to respond to his invitation. In many cases that sets families against one another. Remember that Jesus is sending the disciples to the lost house of Israel: if you are a Jew who affirms Jesus as the Messiah, you are likely to be shunned by your family and/or kicked out of your synagogue. This kind of preaching will ultimately cost Jesus his life.
God does not desire the death of anyone. In Ezekiel he says, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live. Families are rent apart when some accept the good news of the gospel while others do not.
We live in an age when no one wants to be offensive. We all want to be viewed as kind, loving, and open-minded and so we rarely take a stand for Jesus, lest we draw too much attention to ourselves and upset the apple cart. Well, Jesus says he will acknowledge those who acknowledge him…are we willing to pay the price? Yes, persecution may follow. Yes, it may make for interesting conversations around the Thanksgiving table. You may even be made fun of or lose relationships, but that is the call of a disciple.
Knowing that God’s covenant is sure, that his faithfulness is steadfast, and that he will do all he has promised, we have a response: will we acknowledge him? The prophet Jeremiah is our exemplar here. In chapter 20, Jeremiah describes how God’s word could not be contained within him. He writes: “…within me there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot.”
If we have died with Christ and then been raised to new life in him;
If we have been made heirs of the kingdom through adoption;
If God has made and kept his promises to us, how can our response be anything other than a burning in our bones that cannot be held in?!
Friends, we cannot, we must not, we shall not remain silent about the vast and unrelenting love of Christ any longer! We aren’t called to comfort but to courage, not to platitudes but to proclamation, we have been called to discipleship.
If your bones aren’t already burning then pray right now that the Spirit would set them ablaze! If your bones aren’t even warm then pray that the Spirit would stoke a holy fire deep within you! If your bones are burning then get up from this place and let that fire pour out of you–you cannot contain in, indeed you will grow weary from trying–so let it burn. Let your life burn bright and true with the promises and love of God that others might become adopted daughters and sons of glory! Let’s pray.
Come, Holy Spirit, come like a fire and burn,
Come like a wind and cleanse;
Convict, convert, and consecrate our lives–
to our great good and to thy great glory. Amen.
Footnotes
1. The entirety of the opening two paragraphs was taken from the Revs. Ellis and Cynthia Brust who used the same words for their Proper 7A sermon on June 25, 2023.
2. I first discovered this prayer through Fleming Rutledge. I later learned that it comes from a Methodist hymn. Eric Milner-White, England, UMH #335.
Porter C. Taylor 