There are mornings when the world seems almost too quiet.
The coffee is poured. The street has not quite awakened. The first light lies harmlessly along the windows and rooftops. We might be forgiven for thinking that Christianity ought to fit comfortably into such a morning—a religion of peace, reassurance, and reasonable behavior.
Then Christ speaks.
“I am come to cast fire on the earth: and what will I, but that it be kindled?”
It is not the sentence we expect from the gentle Jesus of our imagination.
But perhaps the trouble is not that Christ is less gentle than we imagined.
Perhaps He is more alive.
And perhaps holiness is not chiefly about keeping the world comfortably as we found it.
OPENING VERSE
Lord, open my lips.
And my mouth shall declare thy praise.
INVITATORY
Antiphon: Come, let us adore Christ, the Chief Shepherd, who leads his people into life.
Psalm 94 (95)
Come let us praise the Lord with joy:
let us joyfully sing to God our saviour.
Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving;
and make a joyful noise to him with psalms.
For the Lord is a great God,
and a great king above all gods.
For in his hand are all the ends of the earth:
and the heights of the mountains are his.
For the sea is his, and he made it:
and his hands formed the dry land.
Come let us adore and fall down:
and weep before the Lord that made us.
For he is the Lord our God:
and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand.
Today if you shall hear his voice,
harden not your hearts:
As in the provocation, according to the day of temptation in the wilderness:
where your fathers tempted me, they proved me, and saw my works.
Forty years long was I offended with that generation,
and I said: These always err in heart.
And these men have not known my ways:
so I swore in my wrath that they shall not enter into my rest.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: Come, let us adore Christ, the Chief Shepherd, who leads his people into life.
PSALMODY
Psalm 56 (57)
Antiphon: My heart is ready, O God; I will arise and greet the dawn.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me:
for my soul trusteth in thee.
And in the shadow of thy wings will I hope,
until iniquity pass away.
I will cry to God the most High;
to God who hath done good to me.
He hath sent from heaven and delivered me:
he hath made them a reproach that trod upon me.
God hath sent his mercy and his truth,
and he hath delivered my soul from the midst of the young lions.
I slept troubled.
The sons of men, whose teeth are weapons and arrows,
and their tongue a sharp sword.
Be thou exalted, O God, above the heavens,
and thy glory above all the earth.
They prepared a snare for my feet:
and they bowed down my soul.
They dug a pit before my face,
and they are fallen into it.
My heart is ready, O God, my heart is ready:
I will sing, and rehearse a psalm.
Arise, O my glory, arise psaltery and harp:
I will arise early.
I will give praise to thee, O Lord, among the people:
I will sing a psalm to thee among the nations.
For thy mercy is magnified even to the heavens:
and thy truth unto the clouds.
Be thou exalted, O God, above the heavens:
and thy glory above all the earth.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: My heart is ready, O God; I will arise and greet the dawn.
Canticle — Jeremiah 31:10–14
Antiphon: The Lord has redeemed his people and will fill them with his good things.
Hear the word of the Lord, O ye nations,
and declare it in the islands that are afar off,
And say: He that scattered Israel will gather him:
and he will keep him as the shepherd doth his flock.
For the Lord hath redeemed Jacob,
and delivered him out of the hand of one that was mightier.
And they shall come, and shall give praise in mount Sion:
and they shall flow together to the good things of the Lord,
For the corn, and wine, and oil,
and the increase of cattle and herds:
And their soul shall be as a watered garden,
and they shall be hungry no more.
Then shall the virgin rejoice in the dance,
the young men and old men together:
And I will turn their mourning into joy,
and will comfort them, and make them joyful after their sorrow.
And I will fill the soul of the priests with fatness:
and my people shall be filled with my good things, saith the Lord.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: The Lord has redeemed his people and will fill them with his good things.
Psalm 47 (48)
Antiphon: Great is the Lord, and exceedingly to be praised in the city of our God.
Great is the Lord, and exceedingly to be praised
in the city of our God, in his holy mountain.
With the joy of the whole earth is mount Sion founded,
on the sides of the north, the city of the great king.
In her houses shall God be known,
when he shall protect her.
For behold the kings of the earth assembled themselves:
they gathered together.
So they saw, and they wondered,
they were troubled, they were moved:
Trembling took hold of them.
There were pains as of a woman in labour.
With a vehement wind
thou shalt break in pieces the ships of Tharsis.
As we have heard, so have we seen,
in the city of the Lord of hosts, in the city of our God:
God hath founded it for ever.
We have received thy mercy, O God,
in the midst of thy temple.
According to thy name, O God, so also is thy praise
unto the ends of the earth:
Thy right hand is full of justice.
Let mount Sion rejoice,
and the daughters of Juda be glad;
Because of thy judgments, O Lord.
Surround Sion, and encompass her:
tell ye in her towers.
Set your hearts on her strength;
and distribute her houses,
That ye may relate it in another generation.
For this is God, our God unto eternity, and for ever and ever:
he shall rule us for evermore.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: Great is the Lord, and exceedingly to be praised in the city of our God.
SHORT READING
Hebrews 13:7–9
Remember your prelates who have spoken the word of God to you; whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation.
Jesus Christ, yesterday, and today; and the same for ever.
Be not led away with various and strange doctrines.
SHORT RESPONSORY
Christ is the same yesterday, today, and for ever.
He has called us to follow him without fear.
Christ is the same yesterday, today, and for ever.
His truth does not grow old, nor does his mercy fail.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.
Christ is the same yesterday, today, and for ever.
GOSPEL OF THE DAY
Luke 12:49–53
At that time, Jesus said to his disciples:
I am come to cast fire on the earth: and what will I, but that it be kindled?
And I have a baptism wherewith I am to be baptized: and how am I straitened until it be accomplished?
Think ye, that I am come to give peace on earth? I tell you, no; but separation.
For there shall be from henceforth five in one house divided: three against two, and two against three.
The father shall be divided against the son, and the son against his father, the mother against the daughter, and the daughter against the mother, the mother in law against her daughter in law, and the daughter in law against her mother in law.
BENEDICTUS
Antiphon: Christ has come to cast fire upon the earth; blessed are those whose hearts are kindled by his love.
Canticle of Zachary — Luke 1:68–79
Blessed be the Lord God of Israel;
because he hath visited and wrought the redemption of his people:
And hath raised up an horn of salvation to us,
in the house of David his servant:
As he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets,
who are from the beginning:
Salvation from our enemies,
and from the hand of all that hate us:
To perform mercy to our fathers,
and to remember his holy testament,
The oath, which he swore to Abraham our father,
that he would grant to us,
That being delivered from the hand of our enemies,
we may serve him without fear,
In holiness and justice before him,
all our days.
And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest:
for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways:
To give knowledge of salvation to his people,
unto the remission of their sins:
Through the bowels of the mercy of our God,
in which the Orient from on high hath visited us:
To enlighten them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death:
to direct our feet into the way of peace.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: Christ has come to cast fire upon the earth; blessed are those whose hearts are kindled by his love.
INTERCESSIONS
Christ came among us not to leave the world unchanged, but to kindle it with the fire of divine love. With confidence we pray:
Lord, set our hearts on fire with your love.
For the Church throughout the world: keep her faithful to Christ when fidelity is easy and when it is costly; give courage and wisdom to the Pope, bishops, priests, deacons, religious, missionaries, and all who proclaim the Gospel.
Lord, set our hearts on fire with your love.
For those who govern nations and communities: free them from cowardice, vanity, and the hunger for power; give them the courage to defend truth, justice, peace, and the dignity of every human person.
Lord, set our hearts on fire with your love.
For our work today: in offices, classrooms, workshops, factories, farms, homes, hospitals, roads, and places unseen by anyone but God; teach us to do ordinary things faithfully and well.
Lord, set our hearts on fire with your love.
For our homes and families, especially where faithfulness to Christ has brought misunderstanding or division: preserve love without surrendering truth, patience without cowardice, and charity without bitterness.
Lord, set our hearts on fire with your love.
For those who are frightened, lonely, ill, persecuted, grieving, or carrying burdens they cannot explain: shelter them beneath your wings and send them companions who will not abandon them.
Lord, set our hearts on fire with your love.
For missionaries and all who carry the Gospel across boundaries of nation, language, culture, and fear; remembering especially Saint John Paul II, make us unafraid to open every door of human life to Christ.
Lord, set our hearts on fire with your love.
For those who have died: receive them into that city whose foundations cannot be shaken, where sorrow is turned into joy and death is swallowed up in life.
Lord, set our hearts on fire with your love.
And for ourselves: burn away what is false, timid, selfish, and comfortable within us, so that what remains may belong wholly to you.
Lord, set our hearts on fire with your love.
OUR FATHER
Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done on earth
as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
Amen.
CONCLUDING PRAYER
O God, who hast called thy people out of darkness into the light of Christ, kindle within us that holy fire which our Lord came to cast upon the earth.
Through the example and intercession of Saint John Paul II, grant us courage to open every part of our lives to Christ, fidelity when discipleship is difficult, and charity toward those who oppose or misunderstand us.
Make our homes places of faith, our work an offering of love, and our lives a witness to the Gospel, until all things are gathered into thy kingdom.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
BLESSING
May the Lord bless us,
protect us from all evil,
and bring us to everlasting life.
Amen.
THE PARADOX OF THE DAY
The fire of Christ does not destroy what is truly ours; it burns away everything that keeps us from becoming truly ourselves.
CHESTERTON FOR THE MORNING
G. K. Chesterton writes:
“Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die.”
— G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, Chapter VI, “The Paradoxes of Christianity”
A CHESTERTONIAN MEDITATION
The Match in the Kitchen Drawer
A match is an absurdly unimpressive object.
It lies in the kitchen drawer beside rubber bands, dead batteries, takeaway menus, spare keys whose locks have been forgotten, and several mysterious screws which every sensible person keeps because throwing away a screw is clearly tempting Providence.
The match is a little stick of wood.
That is nearly all one can say for it.
Until it is struck.
Then something happens which seems altogether disproportionate to the object that caused it. A tiny wooden splinter suddenly possesses light, heat, danger, beauty, and the power to awaken something much larger than itself.
Christ uses an image more alarming still.
“I am come to cast fire on the earth.”
We have grown so accustomed to speaking of Jesus as the Prince of Peace that His words can sound almost like a contradiction.
But Christianity has always been full of contradictions that turn out not to be contradictions at all.
Christ brings peace.
And Christ brings division.
He tells Peter to put away his sword.
And He announces fire.
He promises rest to the weary.
And He tells comfortable men to take up a cross.
The mistake is imagining that Christian peace means the absence of disturbance.
It does not.
A cemetery can be perfectly peaceful in that sense.
So can an abandoned factory.
So can a house in which nobody argues because nobody speaks honestly anymore.
The peace of Christ is not the peace of dead things.
It is the peace of things put into their proper order.
And putting things into their proper order can make a tremendous racket.
Anyone who has ever cleaned a garage understands this.
For an hour or two the garage looks considerably worse than it did before. Boxes are everywhere. Tools have been dragged into daylight. Objects whose existence had been mercifully forgotten must suddenly be judged.
Keep this.
Throw away that.
Repair this.
Give away that.
And there, inexplicably, is the missing half-inch socket.
Order has begun by producing apparent disorder.
Something similar happens when Christ enters a human life.
We sometimes imagine conversion as Christ quietly taking His place among our existing possessions.
There is the career.
There are the investments.
There are the ambitions.
There are the resentments.
There are the habits.
There are the political opinions.
There are the family expectations.
There are the secret compromises.
And over here, perhaps on Sunday morning, there is Jesus.
But Christ refuses the shelf we have prepared for Him.
He has an alarming habit of walking through the whole house.
He opens cupboards.
He asks questions.
He moves furniture.
Eventually He comes to the locked door.
And that is usually where we discover whether we actually wanted Him in the house.
This is the fire of the Gospel.
It is not anger for anger’s sake. It is not permission for Christians to become quarrelsome. There is already quite enough quarrelling in the world without baptizing it.
Christ’s fire is truth joined to love.
And truth joined to love is dangerous precisely because it refuses two easy alternatives.
Truth without love becomes cruelty.
Love without truth becomes sentimentality.
Christian charity insists upon both.
That is why Christ can speak of division immediately after speaking of fire.
There are moments when following Christ costs something.
Sometimes the cost is dramatic.
More often it is embarrassingly small.
A conversation in which we refuse to join the gossip.
A business decision in which the profitable shortcut is not the honest one.
An apology we would much rather postpone.
A Sunday we refuse to treat as merely another shopping day.
A person we forgive without pretending that what happened was acceptable.
A belief we do not conceal merely because the room has decided that belief is unfashionable.
No lions.
No arena.
No heroic soundtrack.
Just Tuesday afternoon and a decision.
That may be where courage usually lives.
Chesterton understood the oddity of courage because courage requires us to care greatly about something and yet be willing to lose something for it.
The coward protects himself so completely that eventually there is very little self left worth protecting.
The Christian risks something because he has discovered something larger than safety.
Saint John Paul II knew this.
The words most associated with the beginning of his pontificate were not an invitation to comfort.
They were an invitation away from fear.
Do not be afraid.
Open the doors to Christ.
Those two ideas belong together.
We often suppose that if we open the door to Christ, He will protect everything already inside.
But John Paul II had lived under Nazism and Communism. He had seen systems built on the desperate attempt to control human beings and history. He knew that Christianity did not promise the preservation of every comfortable arrangement.
Christ might come through the door and change everything.
Open it anyway.
That is courage.
And perhaps this morning’s Gospel becomes less frightening when we understand what kind of fire Christ brings.
Fire destroys.
But it also warms.
Fire burns.
But it also illuminates.
Fire consumes dead wood.
But it also makes a cold house habitable.
There is a reason human beings have gathered around fires for as long as we have been human.
The hearth is both dangerous and domestic.
We do not extinguish it because it can burn us.
We tend it because without it the house becomes cold.
The Christian life requires the same strange wisdom.
We are not called to extinguish the Gospel until it becomes safe enough to place decoratively on the mantelpiece.
Nor are we called to run through the neighborhood setting things ablaze simply because we enjoy fire.
We are called to tend the flame.
To let Christ burn first in us.
That is the part we often skip.
It is much easier to identify what Christ ought to burn away in somebody else.
We can generally prepare a complete inventory before breakfast.
But the Gospel begins closer to home.
What in me cannot survive the fire?
Pride?
Resentment?
Cowardice?
Vanity?
The desire to be admired?
The need always to be right?
The small dishonesty I have renamed practicality?
The old grievance I polish every morning like a treasured piece of silver?
Christ does not point first toward our neighbor’s house.
He strikes the match in ours.
And this is mercy.
For the astonishing thing about divine fire is that God does not burn the sinner away.
He burns away the things that are killing the sinner.
We fear that surrendering them will make us smaller.
Again and again, the opposite happens.
We discover that what we called our personality was partly vanity.
What we called prudence was partly fear.
What we called independence was partly isolation.
What we called sophistication was partly the embarrassment of believing anything wholeheartedly.
And beneath all that clutter there remains something simpler and stronger:
a creature made by God,
loved by God,
and capable, by grace, of loving Him in return.
This morning, then, perhaps we should not ask God merely to keep the fire away.
Perhaps we should ask for something considerably more dangerous.
Lord, kindle it.
Begin here.
In this house.
In this work.
In this family.
In this ordinary Thursday.
In me.
The match is very small.
So was Bethlehem.
So was Nazareth.
So was the band of disciples standing bewildered around Christ.
The Kingdom of God has always had a strange preference for beginnings that look too small for their consequences.
Somewhere this morning, a person will forgive.
Someone will tell the truth.
Someone will keep a promise nobody else remembers.
Someone will pray after years of silence.
Someone will refuse to be afraid.
Someone will open a door to Christ.
And a little flame will appear in the world.
That is how fires begin.
CLOSING
Christ did not ask us to admire the fire from a safe distance.
He asked us to carry it.
So go into this ordinary Thursday with courage.
Keep the flame alive in the little places: at the breakfast table, behind the wheel, at the desk, in the workshop, in the difficult conversation, in the unexpected kindness, in the truth spoken without cruelty, and in the sacrifice nobody notices.
Lord, set our hearts on fire—and let the fire begin here.
Chesterton Radio