"I have come not to bring peace, but a sword."

Conflict and the body of Christ

Many of us in the Methodist world have been through a season of conflict, to put it mildly. With the separation of the United Methodist Church, the continuing UMC has moved into the most progressive period in its history. The Global Methodist Church has not ratified its doctrines and discipline, but the Transitional Book of Doctrines and Discipline offers a traditional, conservative vision of Methodist life. Thus the conflict that has raged for the last fifty years has finally run its course.

This doesn’t mean, however, that we will not face conflict in the days ahead. It will just be conflict of a different kind, and over different matters. And sometimes conflict is the necessary consequence of faithful witness.

Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” Indeed we call him the Prince of Peace. He gives us peace and teaches us to be at peace with one another. As a sign of his love, we pass the peace during our liturgy of Holy Communion. 

But then we come across this vexing passage in Matthew 10: 

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it (10:34-39). 

At first glance, it seems like the last thing Jesus would say. “I came not to bring peace, but a sword.” How could the one who said five chapters earlier, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” describe his ministry in this way? 

In the tenth chapter of Matthew, Jesus has just sent out the twelve apostles with these instructions: “As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons” (10:7-8). Each of these acts he commands them to perform is a sign of the inbreaking of the kingdom of God. God’s kingdom is not like our kingdoms, no matter how desperately we pretend otherwise. God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, nor are his ways our ways (Isa 55:8). He knows they will encounter intense opposition as they go. In fact he tells them he is sending them out like sheep among wolves. Brothers will betray brothers, fathers their children. Children will rise up against their parents, even having them put to death. The apostles will be persecuted. There will be pressure to deny Jesus before others, but those who deny Jesus, he will also deny. 

Peacemakers are indeed blessed, but the message about Jesus will not always bring peace. In his Explanatory Notes upon the New Testament, Wesley summarized Jesus’ words as, “Think not that universal peace will be the immediate consequence of my coming. Just the contrary. Both public and private divisions will follow, wheresoever my Gospel comes with power.” Human beings are stubborn, rebellious creatures. We want what we want. We are mired in sin and blind to our depravity. Darkness seems natural, and the light hurts our eyes. Comfortable lies are preferable to painful truths. 

Thus it was inevitable that the ministry of the perfect Son of God would bring division. In particular, Jesus describes division within families: “I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household” (10:35-36). Such divisions would seem catastrophic. It is hard to overstate the significance of the natural family in the ancient Mediterranean world.

In the world Jesus and the apostles lived in, as in many parts of the globe today, people were primarily group-oriented, rather than individualistic. The most important group was the natural family. Without approval and acceptance by the family, a person would be relationally untethered, floating in social space. (For the nerds out there: Drawing upon the work of cultural anthropologists, a number of New Testament scholars have explored the group-oriented perspective of ancient Mediterranean people. The seminal work in this area is probably Bruce J. Malina’s The New Testament World: Insights From Cultural Anthropology [WJKP], now in its third edition. You can find a more extensive bibliography here.) 

Jesus’ demand is both absolute and shocking: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me” (10:37-38). He knows there will be pressure from within families not to join him, or at least not to be public about it. To follow this radical rabbi, especially with his talk about the cross, could be scandalous. When Jesus says that he came not to bring peace “but a sword,” he means that following him will bring conflict and division. Luke’s rendering of the same passage makes this explicit: “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!” (Luke 12:51). The division from one’s family may be painful, but it is necessary. Because the natural family was the center of identity and social existence in the New Testament world, Jesus’ demand probably came across as preposterous and his followers fanatical. But there it is—these are his words, right there in red letters. “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” 

Replica of a Roman gladius. No machine-readable author provided. Rama assumed (based on copyright claims)., CC BY-SA 3.0 <http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/>, via Wikimedia Commons

In the current Western context we tend to be highly individualistic. We have all kinds of trite maxims that express this ethos: “Be yourself!” “Do your own thing!” “Live your truth!” The highest value in the Western world is individual autonomy. We labor under the delusion that we are self-made. We believe we are our own masters. Our commitment to self-determination runs straight to the bone. Nevertheless, Jesus demands no less of us than of his first followers. If you must choose between Jesus and your family, choose Jesus. If you must choose between Jesus and a job, choose Jesus. If you must choose between Jesus and your friends, choose Jesus. If your “truth” keeps you from Jesus, you must abandon it, take up the cross, and follow him. What we receive in Jesus is greater than anything this world can give us.

I offer a few takeaways from this reflection: 

First, peace should be our default setting as Christians, but sometimes conflict is necessary. We fall short of God’s will when we seek peace at all costs. Sometimes following Jesus necessitates that we confront lies and oppose wickedness. Jesus demands that we tell the truth. That can be exceedingly difficult, but if we will not do so, Jesus tells us, then we are not worthy of him. 

Second, particularly among Christian leaders, conflict aversion can damage our mission and set the stage for ongoing division in our communities. Leaders must confront bad ideas and bad actors. When they don’t do so, bad ideas take root and bad actors feel empowered. 

Third, conflict is at the heart of the prophetic tradition, which is probably why the prophetic word in the Old Testament is often called the “burden” of the Lord, and why the lives of prophets were so difficult. God said to Ezekiel “See, I have made your face hard against their faces, and your forehead hard against their foreheads. Like the hardest stone, harder than flint, I have made your forehead; do not fear them or be dismayed at their looks, for they are a rebellious house.” (Ezek 3:8-9). God knew that Ezekiel would need thick skin for what lay ahead. Much of what passes for “prophecy” today is simply warmed-over secular politics with some Christian garnish on the side. 

Fourth, at times conflict becomes unproductive, in which case it is better to change tacks. To offer a personal example, I tried for years to speak into the disagreements within my former denomination, but over time it became clear to me that such work was unproductive. The denominational conflict was not moving toward resolution, but simply damaging our Christian witness. It was better to go than to harm the body of Christ. Richard Ackerman, a.k.a. “Redeemed Zoomer,” has called us cowards for leaving. I suspect in time this young man will regret such disrespect of elders in the faith who have stood up for Christ, and who often did so at the expense of friendships, job opportunities, and their reputations. I commend to you Anne Kennedy’s charitable analysis of his errors.

Conflict avoidance is natural for many of us. I would prefer not to enter into conflict. I generally like people. I like them to like me. But conflict-avoidance is not just bad long-term strategy; it can be unfaithful. Jesus’ ministry was full of conflict because in the kingdom of God sin has no place. He knew that he would divide even that precious community, the natural family. In so doing, he presents us with a choice: choose him, or choose something else. There will come a time when each of us has to choose in one way or another. Making the right decision may be painful, but Jesus never said that following him would be easy.