15.01 | Shockwave
Matthew 10:16-42
“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.”
Matthew 10:34
Recently I went to a theme park with a friend, and our two eldest daughters. We had an incredible day, stacking up an impressive ride-count, and seeing our girls try out (and love) rollercoasters for the first time. By the end of the day they had us literally running between rides to squeeze every last ride out of the day before closing time, two dads with backpacks (and wet jeans from the log flume) weaving the departing crowds, and trying to keep up.
The biggest ride in the park was called Shockwave. A 120foot high, 90second whirlwind, accelerating to 53mph at G-force 4.0. The girls needed a little encouragement, and so we left it until near the end of the day.
Before the ride, they were nervous, subdued, a little pale. There may have been a few tears. The dads were persuasive.
After the ride, they were electric. It was like the sugar-high on Christmas Day times ten. They had been shocked into a new way of looking at speed and fear and going upside down at great speeds, and this new way was awesome.
Today Jesus is going to shock us. It hits hard, but is also purposeful. It is a transition deeper into reality.
When most of us read this passage, we’re hit by one word.
A sword.
What happened to the healing, dead-raising, justice-bringing Jesus of last week? We liked that guy.
What happened to being the Prince of Peace?
What happened to reconciliation?
What happened to loving your enemies?
Today’s words shock us. They probably surprised the disciples too. They’re a bolt of electricity to comfortable hearts, jolting us wide awake from pedestrian and private spirituality into something that is going to offend your sensibilities and change how you see the world.
Now straight up, what is Jesus not saying? He’s not advocating some kind of religious guerrilla warfare. He’s not saying that division in families is a good thing. He’s not advocating violence, hatred, or discord. We have seen and will see that His Kingdom is the only perfect source of peace, the only place where true reconciliation can happen, the only place where the wounds of humanity can become whole. He’s not contradicting the Sermon on the Mount, or anything else He ever said, did, or does.
However, He has something else that He needs His apostles to know. It is this:
His Kingdom is the primary dividing line for all humanity. Not race. Not gender. Not political ideology. Not class. But being in His Kingdom or in the kingdom of darkness.
You are in one or you are in the other.
There’s no middle ground.
The sword, then, is not one of violence, but of division.
Jesus is the point at which humanity divides.
Jesus needs His disciples to know this. He needs them to know that a message of grace will be healing to those who know they are broken and anathema to those who are set on hatred. He needs them to know that a message of empowerment will be a source of wonder to the disempowered, and a threat to those who want to cling to control. He needs them to know that a message of humility will be welcomed by those exhausted by the obsession with self, but mocked by the narcissistic. He needs them to know that this message they speak will be life and rest and beauty to some, and will be hated and ridiculed and rejected by others. He needs them to know that truth is more important than popularity. He needs them to know that they will loose their lives before they find them.
He needs them to know that His Way leads to a cross before it leads to a throne.
These words are meant to be be hard-hitting. Jesus doesn’t call us to a spa-break, affirming all our existing views, but to a relentless expedition deeper into that which is real.
But is He still gracious? Yes, beyond what you can imagine He is.
Kind? Absolutely. More deeply than anyone you’ll ever know.
Loving? Abundantly. To the greatest and most passionate and most costly extent that a person could ever realise.
But challenging? Emphatically. Because Jesus confronts us with a choice.
And the choice is reality or phantasy. Red pill or blue pill. Stay off the rollercoaster, sleeping restlessly to the lullabies of the relativistic, you-do-you, private spirituality of our day.
Or get on and strap yourself in, and get jolted into a whole new way of seeing the world, where the vision of Jesus becomes the organising reality for how you see every hurt and every need and every person.
Two kingdoms.
One Jesus.
Reflect:
How does this teaching interrupt our worldview today?
Pray:
Father,
The rollercoaster of your Word is disorientating sometimes
And if I’m honest, I’m not always sure I enjoy it
But today I pray this first:
Teach me to see
Untangle my worldview when it has become more about the phantasies of the world,
Rather than the truth I only find in you
Help me to feel the weight of what those without you are missing
Help me to love them like you do
Help me to be as courageous with the truth as I am kind in how I share it
Help me to be a restorer of the wounded
And both powerful and gentle in the face of opposition to your cause
And would you gently, powerfully, irresistibly,
Draw those that I know, and love, but who do not yet know you,
Daily closer towards you.
I give you my hands. I give you my words. I give you my heart, and all my ways of seeing.
Align them with reality
Align them with you
In Jesus’ Name
Amen.
Old Testament:
For those of you also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are:
Genesis 32-33 | Psalm 9