Not Peace but a Sword
Preached at St. James Episcopal Church in Goshen, IN on June 21, 2026
The propers can be found here. We are following track 2.
Growing up in the Church of the Brethren, I didn’t realize that the lectionary was a thing. Unlike the Episcopal Church, where we are required to follow the lectionary every Sunday, the Brethren view it as an optional resource. It can be a starting place for deciding which scripture passage you will use on Sunday, but you can also completely ignore it. It mainly depends on the pastor and if they like using the lectionary or not. Also, while we hear all the lessons appointed each Sunday, Brethren usually choose one or two to read during the service.
This is one of those Sundays where I am jealous of my Brethren colleagues. I’ve been preaching a sermon series on Romans for the past couple of weeks, and would prefer to continue focusing on our epistle reading this week. Today’s is a particularly important passage to our theology of baptism. In this foundational sacrament, we are united to Christ in his death and raised to new life and the forgiveness of sin. If I wanted to be cute, I could even tie it into Father’s Day by exploring how in baptism we are adopted as children of God.
And, if I were preaching in a church where we only read one scripture on Sunday that’s probably what I would do. But, in their… let’s call it wisdom, the framers of the Revised Common Lectionary chose today’s Gospel reading from Matthew to accompany it.
“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace but a sword.”
Not exactly a favorite memory verse for your priest who serves on the Executive Board of the Episcopal Peace Fellowship.
And I would really like to have a word with whoever thought it was a good idea to have us hear Jesus talk about turning parents against children and vice versa, and how you are not worthy of him if you love your family more than him on Father’s Day of all days.
What happened to the Prince of Peace and “Jesus loves me, this I know”?
Is this the same Jesus who, sixteen chapters later, will tell the disciple that tries to defend him “Put your sword back into its place, for all who take the sword will die by the sword?”
As is so often the case, context is key to understanding this passage. I preached on this context last week, but we have all slept since then. In short, the Christian community that first heard Matthew’s Gospel proclaimed faced a very different situation than most Christians in the United States today. Christianity and Rabbinic Judaism were parting ways as twin children of Second Temple Judaism, and ethnically Jewish followers of Jesus were finding themselves no longer welcome in synagogues and other parts of the Jewish community. Gentile Christians faced an even bigger problem. There was no such thing as the separation of church and state, and their rejection of the Roman gods and their rites challenged the social order of the empire itself. Their decision to follow Jesus was countercultural and led them to reject many parts of how Romans were expected to behave.
In our era, where Christianity has profoundly shaped Western culture for centuries, remains the dominant religion of the United States, and our own denomination is the daughter of England’s state church, it can be easy for us to forget just how radical and challenging following Jesus was for the early Christians.
Matthew’s Jesus is preaching to a community for whom being Christian had a steep cost. He is not telling his disciples to hate their family members, or to take up arms and start a crusade.
He is reassuring those whose decision to follow Jesus led to them being rejected by their family. We can see this in the first part of the lesson where he reassures his disciples to not be afraid of those who can kill the body, because the God who cares for each falling sparrow cares for them. And he tells us that unless we take up our cross and follow him we are not worthy of him.
If Jesus, our Lord and Savior, was persecuted and killed by earthly powers for his message, why would his followers think their lives would be any different?
Alexander Mack put it this way in his hymn “Count Well the Cost.” “‘Count well the cost,’ Christ Jesus says, ‘when you lay the foundation.’ Are you resolved, though all seem lost to risk your reputation, your self, your wealth, for Christ the Lord, as you now give your solemn word?”
Has following Jesus cost you something?
There are still Christians today for whom baptism into Christ’s body means being disowned from their birth families, and who are persecuted for their faith. And yet, for most of us gathered here today, it is more likely that we are hoping and praying for our family members to come back to faith and the church than that we were disowned for being Christian.
Even with the decline in church membership, calling yourself a Christian still has social benefits. Politicians of all parties emphasize their Christian faith when running for office, and it is not a coincidence that certain celebrities “find God” after serious, potentially career-ending scandals.
I don’t doubt that some, even most, are sincere.
But this is a far cry from the persecution the first generation of Christians faced.
Even so, times are changing. Where previous generations attended church even if they weren’t particularly committed to the faith to keep up appearances, or because there wasn’t anything else to do, today there are all kinds of other options.
We could be out getting our weekly shopping done, or having brunch with friends, or watching a movie. Instead, we are here, because we believe it is important.
We come together to hear the Gospel proclaimed, to share the sacrament of Christ’s body and blood, and to be sent by the Holy Spirit to proclaim that Gospel to the world.
That is countercultural.
It is no longer something our culture takes for granted.
It is easy to show up to church when it’s what’s expected of us. It’s harder when we have to choose to be here, and to be actively involved
Maybe we have more in common with our ancestors in faith than we thought?