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Once, not too long ago, a certain pastor was leaving the grocery store with some supplies for his family's evening meal. Outside in the parking lot he noticed a woman in her car trying to back out of a narrow spot. Pastor set his bag down on the pavement and got the woman's attention by waving and waving. He then proceeded with dramatic arm gestures and directions to assist the woman in backing her car out of the spot. Feeling quite smug and self--satisfied for his good deed he picked up his bag and strode over to the car where the woman had opened her window and was motioning to him. He leaned down into the car about to introduce himself and the woman said, "Friend, that was thoughtful and all, but the truth is that I was trying to get in to that parking space, not out of it.

It seems like there are times in life when we arrive on the scene, thinking we know what's going on around us. We arrive, clear in our minds that this situation is well in hand and we're just the ones to take charge and manage it. And then cruel reality steps in and disabuses us of any illusions we may have had. We find, in fact, that not only are we out of touch with what's happening, we may even have gone and stepped on someone's toes or otherwise upset the apple cart, because - in truth - we were clueless.

Can anyone here identify with being clueless? New parents often feel clueless. You would think these babies would come with instruction booklets. But they don't. And clueless parents stumble on, relying, if they're lucky, on family who have been down that road before.

It seems to me that the gospel is often addressing a clueless people. We wander about doing our level best to be good Christians doing the thing that's right - or at least expedient. We wander about, working hard, giving our time, talents, and resources to build what we think is a nice, pleasant Christian community: a good place, where people don't argue, where everyone likes everyone else, and where there are always enough people to do what needs to be done.

Isn't that what we all kind of keep in our minds? Whether we admit it or not, isn't that the ideal? And isn't a great deal of our disappointment and disillusionment based on the truth that we never really realize this ideal?

So many times we hear about people who storm out of our churches because there was an argument over the budget or a disagreement about the pre--school. Listen carefully and you can hear the disdainful tones. "Yeah! They call themselves Christians, and you should have seen them arguing!" Or, shocked at politics in the religious community, similar voices register their disapproval. "Churches? Right. They're supposed to be Christian, but once you get in there, it's all politics. Have you ever been to one of their meetings?"

It's difficult to escape this pervasive myth of so--called nice people in so--called nice Christian communities trying to live up to this very strange expectation of being so nice. Where, one has to wonder, does this come from?

It's safe to say that it doesn't come from our Gospel reading for this morning. Because most pastors are just as invested in so--called nice Christianity as you are, this morning's Gospel reading is one we like to avoid. It ranks up there with preaching about divorce and, even worse, peace. Most of us, if we were truthful, would just as soon leave this out of the Bible, or at least the lectionary.

But there it is, staring us balefully in the face. Our lovable, gentle, huggable Jesus has the audacity to stand there and tell us that he didn't come to bring peace, but a sword! What are we supposed to do with this? What are we supposed to do with a Jesus who tells us that he has come to set people against one another? Is this the Jesus that you have come to know? Is this the Jesus with whom you want a "personal relationship"? This Jesus says he wants to break up families! He wants to "set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter in--law against her mother--in--law"! Is this a Jesus that supports "family values"?

This is all very troubling. Not only does this Jesus want to break the peace and smash families, he also says that if we love our parents more than him we're not worthy of him.

It's easy to see why a lot of folks would just rather pass over this scripture.

Yet as we come together in faith to grow and to move forward in ministry, it's important - perhaps even critical - that we be certain not to miss this piece of scripture. You see, this scripture is rather like an iceberg floating in the cold north Atlantic, and our pervasive myth of a nice guy Jesus and nice fluffy Christianity are like the Titanic. We think our big, lumbering ocean liner can't sink. We believe that our gentle, loving Jesus works very well for us. But in order for this myth, this one--sided, one--dimensional Jesus, to work, we must ignore this and other scriptures.

The quick and oft--heard response to this is that Jesus is actually condoning violence and military action. I have heard it said by otherwise sensitive and intelligent persons that this is a portrayal of the "realistic Jesus," and it is to be played off against or balanced with the Jesus who calls us to love our enemies.

Let's set the record straight. Jesus does not condone violence or military action, anywhere in scripture. Furthermore, any attempt to justify such sinful behavior with scripture is a violation of the spirit and the letter of God's new covenant with us in Christ Jesus.

So, we have that out of the way.

What, then, is going on here? What could possibly explain this invasion into an otherwise acceptable picture of Jesus as the quintessential nice guy? Could it be that Jesus is not trying to say that he's here to bring war and disruption, but is instead describing what will befall us if we are faithful in following his teachings?

Think about it.

If we truly followed the teachings of the Master, what would happen to us? If we gave away our material goods to the poor, if we brought homeless men and women into our own homes, if we actually made an effort to love our enemies and to pray for those who abused us, if we really worked at living out these teachings, what would happen?

The scenario begins to gain some clarity. The picture clears up, and it begins to make sense. For those who truly and authentically follow the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, it will be as though he had come with a sword. Imagine your family's reaction if you sold everything you own and went to live in poverty with a Franciscan order? I doubt such behavior would be met with overwhelming approval. Imagine if your family came home to find fifteen or twenty homeless people laid out in sleeping bags in the den and living room? Imagine if you invited your dad's worst enemy - the one from the office - over for dinner? It would be easy to continue this list. But it seems clear.

Contrary to what some Christians would have you believe, following the Christian life is not a ticket to well--being and prosperity. In fact, it's quite the reverse. If you truly fulfill the "royal way" (James 2), if you give your life over to following the teachings of Jesus Christ and what early Christians called "the Way," there will be discord and division. It is likely that your family will be at least unhappy. And you can rest assured that you - like our Lord and Savior before us - will be labeled as a troublemaker.

Now that we have crossed this bridge and gotten in touch with some of the consequences of faithful living, the inevitable question arises. What will we do? Will we slip comfortably back into nice guy Jesus? Will we return to our cocoon churches that turn away from conflict and unpleasantness? Will we continue to hide away in a Church that - in all honesty - resembles a religious social club more than a community of Christians redeemed by God's love in Christ? What will we do?

Whatever we do, let us not return to business as usual. Whatever we do, let us not live any longer in the past. Whatever we do, let it flow from an open commitment to the teachings of our Lord and Savior. Whatever we do, sisters and brothers, let it be a bold and courageous step forward on our journey into faithfulness.

What will we do?

Maybe we'll take one step into faithfulness and move our ministry into caring for hungry and homeless sisters and brothers. Maybe instead of a faceless "them," we will discover women, children, and men with life stories, with hopes and dreams, with much to offer us and our community. If we open our doors and invite hungry people in to be fed, if we place cots around so that homeless people have a warm, safe place to sleep, we will surely incur the displeasure of some. But we will just as surely be taking a step on the path of faithful witness to the love of God in Jesus Christ.

What will we do?

The question remains to be answered by each of us and by all of us. But today is the day that we must say together that the question can no longer go unanswered. Today is the day we begin to give birth to new vision and new hope. Today is the day that we will lift up the ministry of our God till it shines forth in wholeness and healing. Today is the day we begin again in God's love to build, to strive, to grow, and to move in faithfulness.

Whatever we do, sisters and brothers, let it be done in faithfulness, in wonder, and in joy. Whatever we do, let us do it loudly, proudly, and boldly in Jesus' name. Amen.