Recently, I spoke about reconciliation (paying particular attention to Paul's writings). I talked about how reconciliation is central to the gospel. How it is a lens through which we can see and understand God's purpose and work in the world. And how it is work that we are called to as Jesus people (in our homes, workplaces, community, and in our church). I said that maybe, as Mennonite peacemaker John Paul Leaderach asserts, reconciliation is the gospel. 

In this week's gospel reading, Jesus talks about the cost of discipleship, points out that he hasn't come to bring peace but a sword, and talks about disruption and division, even amongst family (Matthew 10:24-39). What do we do with that? It feels like the opposite of unity, togetherness, and the reconciliation of all things, through Jesus, back to God.

Here are my thoughts. Firstly, when we read this passage, we must not weaponise it. Far too often, Christians have been guilty of using this passage (and other passages like it) to create unnecessary conflict, double down on their particular ideology or theological viewpoint, and push people to the side or out. This passage isn't a call to intentionally create unhealthy conflict or to abandon the call to embody unity in diversity; it is an unflinching reminder that conflict is an inevitable by-product when people and communities of people follow the way of Jesus. 

Matthew's community, the people to whom this letter was addressed, knew this; they knew the danger. In Matthew's time, "it was well know that Christians - including Simon Peter, who was important to the Matthean community - had been crucified in Rome under Nero" (Belief Commentary Series: Matthew, Anna Case-Winters). Matthew's community knew the "cost of discipleship," the cost of following Jesus. 

In this passage, Jesus reminds his followers (and us) that following him is costly. It's costly because the way of Jesus ultimately upsets the Powers That Be. The ways of the kin-dom: non-violence, justice, forgiveness, generosity, and love stand in stark contrast to the way of the world, the way of war and violence, white supremacy, patriarchy, greed, self-sufficiency, and individualism. Jesus' way confronts and insults the death-dealing logic of the world. "Although God's reign inaugurates a true shalom (Hebrew peace, wholeness, well-being, and safety), the announcement of God's reign comes as a genuine threat to those who reign now, and they will respond with violence" (Matthew at the Margins: A Socio-Political Reading of Matthew, Warren Carter). Walter Wink says, "When the Powers That Be catch the merest whiff of God's new order, they automatically mobilize all their might to crush it" (The Powers That Be, Walter Wink). Here are some examples: The Roman Empire and the religious elite's response to Jesus (they executed him), the British Empire's violent response to Gandhi's non-violent emancipation movement in India, the New Zealand Government's violent response to Tohu, Te Whiti, and the community at Parihaka, and, in a much smaller way, the community's response to our Advent sign (the sign depicted Mary, fist in the air, wearing combat boots, and surrounded by the words of the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-56)). The Powers That Be fight back in the face of Christ's kin-dom of justice and peace. It's as simple as that.

And yet I have a question (or I have a slight niggle when I think about all this): if reconciliation, love of neighbour, and non-violence are central to Christ's kin-dom, what's our response to the inevitable division and/or backlash that we create when we live the Jesus way? Amid our critique of the Powers That Be (and those who prop up the powers), how do we create space for transformation, healing, and reconciliation and not create further unnecessary alienation and division? Rather than seeing division as destructive, or understanding it negatively, maybe we need to think of the disruptive way of Jesus (the disruptions that occur when we follow the way of Jesus) in positive terms, perhaps as an opportunity for transformation, for God to enter, challenge (all involved), and create space for new life to emerge (or at least the possibility for it). Randy Woodley says, "Conflict is the path to shalom [peace]" (Shalom and the Community of Creation: An Indigenous Vision, Randy Woodley). The kin-dom of Christ illuminates that which is at odds with the ways of God (which is challenging but good); it disrupts the status quo, but it also should be an invitation to step into the life-giving ways of God and God's kin-dom (a double-edged sword of sorts). The disruptive "sword" of Christ is not a sword that brings death but one that makes way for life (for those who choose it). Disruption can bring peace. Disruption is OK. Disruption often means God is at work. 

This is challenging and risky work, no doubt, and as we contemplate all this, we should remember Jesus' other words in our reading. "Don't be afraid," Jesus says. God is with you/us. Jesus has gone before us. Jesus upset the Powers That Be. The Powers That Be attempted to silence Jesus (they thought they had). But, no, Jesus was vindicated. Resurrection happened. New life burst forth from death. God's reign was inaugurated. Amid the ups and downs of following Jesus, embodying his reign of justice and peace, we have to know that God is always with us, no matter what, and that God is a God who makes a way out of no way. 

Be encouraged! May our life together point to a different world. May our life together shake the world around us (in a good way), and may it lead us and others to more healing, hope, and life. May we be disrupted; may we be gentle disrupters, purveyors of a quiet revolution that challenges the death-dealing logic of the world, invites people into new life, healing, and wholeness, and makes God's reign visible in our families, church, community, and on this whenua (land).