“UnComfortable Gospel”

Tenth Sunday After Pentecost

August 17, 2025

“Erasure” by NakedPastor (copyright & purchased)

Jeremiah 23:23-29

Luke 12:49-56

Children’s Message:

I’ve been seeing a lot of Halloween stuff in the stores already. It seems a bit early, doesn’t it? But I guess there are some folks who like getting ready for Halloween super early. Are you getting ready? Do you have a mask?

Who wears masks? Superheroes. And Supervillains. They’re hiding their true identity, right? But why, do you think?

Today, Jesus called people in the crowd hypocrites. That’s a big word that just means someone who pretends. Who acts. Who wears a mask and thinks no one will notice. He was frustrated because people were saying they were followers of God, but they really weren’t. They thought they were fooling people—and fooling God. Do you think it worked?

That’s like you wearing a mask and thinking your parents won’t recognize you. But God knows when we’re not being honest and when we’re trying to pretend that what we do is what God wants us to do when we know better. And God knows better. So, it’s good to remember that masks are great for when we want to pretend for fun—but not for fooling God.

Let’s pray. Dear God, you know who we are, and we can’t fool you. Help us be true to ourselves and to the Gospel. Amen.

Message:

“I came not to bring peace but division.” That’s a hell of a campaign speech. Can you imagine Jesus campaigning for elected office? He would promise free education to everyone. He would promise free healthcare to everyone. He would promise safe passage for all who immigrate here. He would promise forgiveness to all who have sinned. He would promise food to all who are hungry; homes to all who are homeless; clothes to all who lack; jobs for all who seek them. Equal rights and full autonomy for all of humanity! And don’t forget…division. Which, after all that, makes perfect sense.

Because even liberals like me would say, “Now wait a minute, Jesus. Aren’t you going a bit far with this? That’s a little radical, even for me. Where do you draw the line?” Where do you draw the line?

And that’s the crux of the matter at hand today. Jesus doesn’t draw lines. Jesus doesn’t divide. But we do. We like what we hear—so long as it doesn’t require anything more of us. We like what he has to say—only so far as it benefits us. But there is, for all of us, a point where we feel we have to draw the line. It may be different for each of us, but we all have our lines.

When Jesus says he came to bring division, what he’s saying is that he came to bring the Gospel. The Good News of God’s reign. God’s kin-dom. God’s love. For everyone. And there’s a point in which that makes us each cringe. We say, “Yeah, but what about…?” What about the people who don’t deserve it? What about the people who turn away from it? What about the people who have ridiculed it? What about the people who hurt me? What about…?

And Jesus refuses to deal in ‘what abouts.’ He refuses to deal in ‘what ifs.’ That’s on us. Always. We are the ones who create divisions. In our sin, in our fear, in our uncertainty, in our own self-doubt we begin to draw the lines in the sand. Funny how those lines we like to draw always manage to keep us on the inside—and others on the outside.

Friends, where we draw lines that divide, Christ draws lines that connect.

Ironically, our passage from Jeremiah is about the need to draw lines—lines between truth and lies. He had been warning the people of Israel that their behavior would end in very bad consequences. They had forgotten the Word of God. They had forgotten their responsibility as God’s faithful people. Instead, they practiced injustice and inhospitality. They dismissed the widow and orphan; they took advantage of the poor and oppressed; they cast out the immigrant and stranger. And their false prophets told them that simply because they were God’s Chosen People, God would protect them from any outside force.

The people believed the false prophets because it was they wanted to hear. They didn’t have to change their ways. They could live for themselves and not worry about the consequences. But when they heard the truth Jeremiah spoke, he was met with ridicule, persecution, and beatings. His message made them uncomfortable. It challenged their presumptions about themselves.

Eventually, Babylon conquered them and sent them into exile. They realized far too late that they had abandoned God’s Word. They had arrogant in their identity as God’s people and abandoned the truth for lies.

It’s like the woman who was following a truck too closely, and as he approached the intersection the light turned yellow. He immediately slowed to a stop, and the woman began honking and making lewd gestures and throwing a great big fit.

All of a sudden, she heard a tap at her passenger window. She turned to see a cop insisting she exit the car. Of course, this didn’t go well, either. Finally, as he returns her ID and documents to her, she demands to know why he stopped her. He said, “Well, I saw your tantrum. But I also saw all your bumper stickers—‘honk if you love Jesus,’ ‘WWJD’ and so on, and I just assumed you’d stolen the car.”

She drew a line of disconnect—a line that divided her from the person in front of her. We do that all the time.

Friends, where we draw lines that divide, Christ draws lines that connect.

And connection is what the Gospel desires. What Christ desires. Connection is a form of resistance. In this world where we’ve been taught that the individual is everything, we’ve learned to look out for ourselves first. Put our wants above others’ needs. And the more we have, the more we fear to lose. So we draw the lines deeper and darker, keeping other at arm’s length.

Even our faith has become individualistic as Christians talk about accepting Christ as their Lord and Savior. That’s lovely. But that’s not what changes us. That’s not what saves us. Salvation is communal—always. God’s kin-dom is communal. God came into this world, not as a mighty warrior king, wielding power over the weak. He came as a baby, dependent upon others. He came healing and gathering and proclaiming life and hope…and peace.

When he predicted that the gospel would divide, he knew how the world would receive it. And how the world would receive him. With fear. With a mindset of scarcity. With an act of dividing rather than communing.

Our world today is so divided. So many people working to take care of themselves first. Put themselves first. Keep the Other out. Keep the Other from accessing necessary care. And like false prophets, they tell themselves and others that this is what God wants. What God demands.

I’ve been asked several times how I maintain hope is such a dark and scary society. How do we keep going when it feels like hope is gone? THIS. This right here. We gather. We see how we are connected—the lines that Christ has used to pull us together. We gather in worship. We gather at coffee shops and community events. But most importantly, we gather in communion. Because in communion, we are drawn together even with those we don’t understand and don’t want to understand. Communion is the biggest act of resistance we can practice.

Communion reminds us that salvation isn’t individual. That our lives depend on the lives of others. That Jesus come among us to turn us into conservatives or liberals or even Christians. He came to show us how to live for God and for others. How to draw the lines that connect us to one another—not divide us. He came to make us a community. And in community, together, we can change the world a little at a time. For the sake of us all.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE