At the time of writing this sermon, the US President and his Russian counterpart were about to meet in Alaska to discuss the ongoing armed conflict in Ukraine. The stated aim of the American president was to stop the bloodshed and diplomatically resolve the war’s causes rather than through military force. On the radio station I have on in the background, I have heard a procession of military, political and journalistic experts voicing their opinions. Their expectations and predictions of possible outcomes ranged widely from highly pessimistic to cautiously optimistic. For those who have “skin in the game” but no influence on the proceedings, it’s been a little emotionally draining. A situation not dissimilar to that of the prophet Jeremiah, we heard about in today’s first reading. We need a bit more context to understand his and others’ predicament.
Jeremiah was called as God’s prophet and was active around the turn of the 7th and 6th centuries BC. It was a time of significant political upheaval in the Middle East. The Assyrian Empire, which had dominated the region for 200 years, declined and fell to a new power, the Neo-Babylonian Empire. The small and relatively insignificant state of Judah had been a vassal of Assyria, and when Assyria fell, it briefly asserted its independence. In Jeremiah’s view, the people of Israel were plagued by idolatry and social injustice. His messages to the people condemned their false worship and exploitative practices. His call for repentance focused on their outward religious rituals that did not reflect charitable attitudes. This included predictions of the complete fall of their beloved Temple in Jerusalem, which they regarded as their source of safety and security. Such a stance didn’t bring Jeremiah many fans or friends. He was called a liar, persecuted, and even imprisoned for his prophecies. When the Kingdom of Judah faced the Babylonian Empire’s long shadow, Jeremiah kept advising the king and others in power to accept subjugation to it: “Bring your necks under the yoke of the king of Babylon, and serve him and his people and live. Why will you and your people die by the sword, by famine, and by pestilence, as the Lord has spoken concerning any nation that will not serve the king of Babylon?” (Jeremiah 27:12-13) Most of his intended audience rejected such advice, calling him a defeatist, collaborator and enemy, as we heard in today’s first reading: “Let this man, Jeremiah, be put to death, for he is weakening the hands of the soldiers who are left in this city, and the hands of all the people, by speaking such words to them. For this man is not seeking the welfare of this people, but their harm.” We might side with Jeremiah, who, as “the man of God”, was right. However, we can only make such an assessment with the benefit of hindsight. At the time, there were conflicting viewpoints and opinions on how to deal with the Babylonian aggression, proclaimed in the name of God by those whom Jeremiah called the false prophets: “Do not listen to the words of the prophets who are saying to you, ‘You shall not serve the king of Babylon’, for it is a lie that they are prophesying to you. I have not sent them, declares the Lord, but they are prophesying falsely in my name, with the result that I will drive you out and you will perish.” (Jeremiah 27:14-15) Both sides of the argument claimed God’s authority, and it must have been very difficult for the vacillating king to make up his mind to whom he should listen. By the time their respective claims, Jeremiah’s and others’, would be proved right or wrong by the irreversible turn of events, it would be too late for the king to change his mind and the course of action. Incidentally, spare a thought for those in power who must make decisions these days…
Jesus’ proclamation in today’s gospel, “I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled!” followed by his self-rejection as a peacemaker, “Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division,” seems to be at odds with our common perception of His general message. Did He not call to go the extra mile with your opponent, forgive seventy-seven times those who have wronged you, and love even your enemies? Did He not proclaim: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you”? (John 14:27) The division Jesus talked about isn’t the means His followers were to use to achieve their goals in the vein of the old Roman maxim “divide and conquer,” but rather a consequence of adopting a set of values and principles that might place them at odds or even on a collision course with others, including those closest to us. Some of us are fortunate enough to have spouses or other family members who either share our Christian values or at least accept them gracefully. Others face disapproval, rejection, or hostility from their loved ones because of sticking to Christian moral and ethical values and practices. Although such division isn’t of their deliberate making, bearing its consequences can be hard and dispiriting, as it was for the prophet Jeremiah: “I have become a laughing-stock all the day; everyone mocks me. […] For the word of the Lord has become for me a reproach and derision all day long. […] Cursed be the day on which I was born! The day when my mother bore me, let it not be blessed!” (see Jeremiah 20:7-18) Finding the right balance between our religious observance and maintaining peace within the family, neighbourhood, workplace, or society can be challenging. This is where the teachings of Jesus find their practical application: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also. […] And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.” (Luke 6:27-31)
