The story is told about a large urban parish in one of our cities. The church was packed with perhaps two thousand people. Mass was about to begin when three men wearing long black coats and black hats came down the aisles, one in the center and one down either side. Suddenly, from under their coats, they pulled submachine guns. The man in the center aisle shouted, "Listen up, Christians! Everyone ready to take a bullet for your Jesus: stay where you are. The rest of you have one minute to clear out."

Well, the place started emptying fast. From the sanctuary, the choir loft, and the pews they streamed through every available exit. In less than a minute, they were gone. Of the two thousand people, about twenty remained, stubbornly sitting in their pews.

Then the three men threw down their guns and took off their hats and coats. The one in the center aisle said, "Alright, now that the hypocrites are gone, we can start the service."

The problem was, they couldn’t. The priest had left.

How many of us are willing to take a bullet for Jesus?

In today’s gospel, Jesus tells us that he didn’t come to bring peace, but a sword. The first time I had to preach on this gospel was fifteen years ago. And I gotta tell you, it was tough. Here I was a layman. All I ever preached about was peace and justice. I could do a heck of a job with "Blessed are the peacemakers," or "the Prince of Peace." But this!? What was I supposed to do with this gospel?

Then it dawned on me. In the Palestine of Jesus’ time, there was a peace of sorts. It was the Pax Romano, the peace of dictatorship, the peace of totalitarianism, the peace of bondage, the peace of an unjust status quo. Naturally, Jesus was not in favor of such a peace. In its place, he offered the sword of division, the sword of revolution — a revolution to set his people free.

It’s no wonder many of the disciples expected Jesus to assume the role of warrior king and to lead an armed insurrection against the Roman occupiers.

But that was not what Jesus meant. The sword he offered was a two-edged sword of truth and love. His, to the great disappointment of many of his followers, was to be a nonviolent revolution. Yet it was a revolution that brought down the Roman empire ... without (to use today’s terms) a shot being fired. Oh, it was a bloody revolution, but the only blood shed by his followers was their own.

And the revolution of Jesus was not only against the tyranny of Rome. It was against the hypocrisy and self-righteousness of the Pharisees, against the power and greed of the Levites, against the prejudice the Jews felt for half-breed, heretic Samaritans, against the marginalization of women, and against the apathy of the people. Most of all, it was a revolution against the legalism of the religious authorities, the guilt and hopelessness of the common people, and the general misconception by both of the nature of God.

Jesus freed his people, not by slaying the Romans, but by his sword of truth slaying the image of a vengeful, scorekeeping God and revealing instead a God who is infinitely loving, understanding, merciful, and forgiving.

Jesus freed his people not by slaying enemies, persecutors, and captors, but by his sword of love slaying the hatred, bitterness, and resentment in the hearts of his followers.

The gospel said Jesus came to ignite a conflagration (and how he wished it was raging already). Well, he did ignite that fire, a fire of love in the hearts of his disciples and those who came after them. This fire of love became an inferno that changed the world forever. It was fueled, not by gasoline, but by the blood of martyrs. And it put Nero’s Roman fire to shame.

There were no bullets in the days of Jesus. But his followers accepted the point of a sword, the jaws of lions, and the cross ... all for Jesus.

How about us? Are we ready to die for Jesus? "Ah, but that was then, and now is now," you say. "There is no Roman Empire. There is no persecution. There is no law against being Christian."

True enough, but are you telling me there is no hypocrisy? no legalism? no prejudice? no marginalization of women? no hatred? no bitterness? no greed? no injustice? no self-righteousness? no hopelessness?

The world of today is just as much in need of the truth and love of the sword of Jesus as was the world of two thousand years ago. The world of today is just as much in need of the raging inferno of God’s love as was the world of the Roman Empire. And that fire hasn’t gone out. But in too many places it has become but a dying ember.

Every once in a while, the Holy Spirit blows on that ember and sets it once more ablaze. Every once in a while, a martyr will fuel the fire with his blood. Archbishop Oscar Romero did it. He took a bullet for Jesus as he was defending the poor against the greed and arrogance and cruelty of the aristocracy in El Salvador. Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. did it. He took a bullet for Jesus as he was defending the downtrodden against the self-righteousness and hypocrisy and prejudice of the aristocracy in Alabama.

When these martyrs defended the poor and downtrodden, they were defending Jesus himself. In putting their life on the line, they were taking up their cross and following Jesus up to Calvary.

No, Jesus didn’t bring peace to the world. The martyrs of all ages attest to that. But he did bring peace to our hearts. Those who wield the sword of hatred reap a harvest of torment. Eventually their hearts turn to stone. But those who wield the sword of truth and love reap a harvest of joy. Their hearts are at peace.

The status quo of today is no more acceptable to God than that of Jesus’ time. So why are we so complacent? There are wrongs to be righted, sufferings to be alleviated, authorities to be resisted, people to be loved. Don’t let the comforts and pleasures of life harden your hearts to the needs of God’s beloved — the poor, the marginalized, the suffering. Let the Holy Spirit enter in and kindle in your hearts the fire of his love.

Then do something about it. Stand up for Christ. Be willing to take a bullet for Jesus. If we believe what we say in this Mass; if we take seriously what we profess; if we understand what God has done for us and what he continues to do ... and what he is about to do in this Eucharistic feast, then our hearts should be aflame with gratitude and love. We should be ready to march joyfully into the lion’s den, all the time singing hymns of glory and praise.

The fact of the matter is that very few of us will probably be asked to die for Christ. But for goodness sakes, the least we can do is live for him.

Let us pray.

Lord, everything we have comes from you. The warmth of the sun, the cool ocean breeze, the sound of children’s laughter, the smell of fresh bread, the taste of good wine, the touch of a loved one’s hand — all are from you. Everything we love is a gift from you.

Don’t let us turn away from you and harden our hearts. Send your Spirit to inflame our hearts with love for you. Help us act out that love by caring for our neighbors, your children all. Arm us with your sword of truth and love, and help us wield it with your power in the nonviolent struggle for your kingdom.

Our very lives are yours. Take them. Use them. Grant that we may love you always, and then do with us as you will. Amen.

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