READING:
Luke 12:49–56

This is not about picking fights

Sitting with friends and family around an outdoor fire – cooking sausages, toasting marshmallows – might stir cherished summer holiday memories.

The wood surrenders slowly, with a low, steady crackle, like whispered confidences between old friends. Each log glows from within, its heart turning red, strength unraveling into heat and light.

Orange embers pulse and breathe, alive in their dying, casting brief halos across the sand. Smoke curls upward in thin, ghostly ribbons, swaying in the salt-tinged air before vanishing into the night.
Comforting. Cosy. Safe. But not the image of fire we hear in today’s Gospel.

Jesus says, “I came to bring fire to the earth… not peace, but division.”
Not the Jesus of warm embraces, blessing children, calling the weary to rest , but a Jesus whose words spark unease.
We might wince, hoping the reading ends quickly, longing for something gentler. Yet here he is, speaking of fire, tension, even households divided.

Perhaps the discomfort is the point. These are words meant to wake us.

The Fire Jesus Brings

The fire Jesus longs to kindle is not a raging wildfire that destroys indiscriminately.
In Luke’s Gospel, fire often signals God’s presence and power – a fire that purifies, illuminates, warms.
Think of Pentecost’s tongues of flame, or the burning bush aflame yet unconsumed.
This is the fire of divine love – blazing with truth and compassion.
Yet such fire unsettles.

When Christ’s light shines on our lives, it exposes shadows , the compromises we’ve made, the half-truths we protect.
The heat draws impurities to the surface, as in silver refined or glass formed in the furnace.
We resist that heat, yet it is how we are made whole.
Around a campfire, people often share stories — sometimes for the whole group, sometimes in quiet, confessional tones.
Fire has a way of drawing out honesty.

We find ourselves speaking of what matters most: values, hopes, fears, and dreams.

The fire of Christ is like that .It draws us into truth, even when that truth disturbs our peace.

Clash of Values

When the Kingdom draws near, our lives can collide with the world’s values and even with those shaped by our families or culture.
Following Jesus may mean loving where others choose revenge, giving when others choose self-protection, speaking truth when silence would be easier.
Such choices can cause strain ….even within a household.

This is not about picking fights.
It’s about the unavoidable truth that the Gospel reorders our priorities.

The peace Jesus offers is not a fragile ceasefire; it is a deep reconciliation that grows only in the soil of truth.
And truth, like fire, can burn before it heals.

Reading the Present Time

Jesus challenges his hearers: “You know how to interpret the weather… but why not the present time?”
They could read the clouds, yet missed the signs of God’s Kingdom.

We too are skilled at reading what matters to us – markets, headlines, even a friend’s unspoken mood – but do we see where God is at work?
Do we notice quiet acts of courage, hidden seeds of hope, unexpected moments where love breaks through?
To read the present time is to see with Kingdom eyes.

It is to recognise that the refining fire is not just “out there” but also here: in our hearts, our relationships, our community.
Moments of tension may be invitations to deeper truth and stronger love.

Through the Fire to Reconciliation

Division is never the end goal.
The fire’s purpose is not to leave us scorched, but to make us radiant.
When Jesus’ words disrupt, they are clearing away what cannot endure in God’s Kingdom.
Reconciliation is the slow work that follows

It is not simply “going back” but building something new in the light of truth.
It asks humility to admit wrong, courage to face pain, patience to listen without defence.

Sometimes reconciliation restores a relationship in full.
Sometimes it is the grace to part without bitterness.

Either way, it is the work of God.
And often it begins with something as small as an honest conversation over a shared
coffee, a willingness to listen.

Like a fire on the shore at dawn, it draws us close enough to feel warmth again

Living as a Community of Fire

If we take Jesus’ words seriously, our calling as the Church is not to avoid all conflict but to meet it faithfully.
We hold space for honest conversation, trusting God to work through it.
We stay at the table – even when bread is broken in tension – until it is shared again in love.
The same fire that exposes division fuels our mission.
It burns away cynicism, self-interest, and fear, leaving only love.
If we are to be light for the world, we must let that fire kindle in us – steady and enduring – until we glow with justice, humility , and hope

An Invitation

So today, let us pray for two things :

First, courage.
Courage to stand near the fire of Christ’s love long enough to be changed.
Courage to let go of what cannot last, even when it is dear.
Courage to speak and live truth, even when it brings division.

Second, humility.
Humility to walk the long road of reconciliation.
Humility to stay in relationship when turning away is easier.
Humility to see the image of God — still beloved, still aflame with possibility — even in those with whom we disagree.

The fire Christ brings is not to destroy us, but to make us radiant.
In a fearful, divided world, our mission is to be people whose lives are sparks – small flames of joy, hospitality, and truth-telling – that help others see the dawn.

photo credit : irina iriser