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Gospel Commentary for August 17, 2025
I Have Come to Set the Earth on Fire
Dear brothers and sisters, peace and all good to you.
When we don’t really know what to do with our lives, because the messages we hear are so relativistic—anything goes—Jesus comes, and today He doesn’t exactly comfort us. This is the same Christ who can say, Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light. Let the little children come to me; Peace I leave you, my peace I give you. But today Jesus shows Himself not as a refuge, not as a place of welcome, but as a dangerous person. The symbols He uses are fire and the sword: fire that burns and destroys, leaving desolation behind; a sword that wounds, cuts, and divides.
In Jesus’ teaching, there is a constant use of paradox. At one moment He says He is gentle, peaceful, and humble, and that His yoke—His cross—is easy and light. But now—as we hear in this Sunday’s Gospel for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time—He says that He has not come to bring peace to the earth, but division. The use of paradox—something also found in Eastern spirituality—helps us think more deeply, not staying on the surface. A large part of Jesus’ Kingdom is about thought, about our ability to discern. We cannot stay at a superficial level with Christ, nor just accept without reflection what others say about Him.
It might be hard to reconcile these two kinds of words. The best thing is to leave them as they are and try to learn from their message, even if it remains mysterious to us.
That’s why we must keep these words of Jesus about fire and the sword, along with His words about carrying the cross in His footsteps or about His followers receiving a hundredfold in this life—with persecutions. We cannot tame the Gospel. We cannot rewrite it by removing the parts that trouble us. We cannot blunt God’s Word, turning it into dull metal that can’t cut, or into a wooden knife. Even less can we tame God Himself, making Him too “domesticated,” turning Him into a cozy grandfather in slippers.
Yes, God is light, and in Him there is no darkness or evil. But the experience of God and the life of faith will not always be calming, peaceful, and soothing; they can also stir up within us a deep, life-giving restlessness. God is the One who is not at our disposal, who does not submit to our wishes.
This is the testimony of believers who have had a deeper experience of God. Remember Isaiah’s vision: a seraph touching his lips with a burning coal to purify them. Remember the words of St. John of the Cross: Oh gentle cautery, oh delightful wound! The mystic’s experience, in the end, is not so different from that of ordinary believers—though more intense and refined. John of the Cross describes it as the experience of fire, of a wound, of being pierced by a sword. God is three times holy, and His holiness both fascinates and makes us tremble. We must learn to love God for God’s own sake.
In our prayer life we must be ready for moments of abundance and devotion, and also for moments of dryness—times when we feel unheard, when our prayers seem to fall into emptiness; in our faith life we must be ready for times of closeness to God and times of desolation and abandonment. Faith lives in light and shadow; it is holding on in the night. We cannot reduce God to a geometry theorem. We might want to say with Unamuno: “One sign, Lord, just one—one that will put an end to all the atheists in the world.” Those called to be prophets, missionaries, or witnesses of the Gospel may go through trials like the prophet Jeremiah, whose fate was in the hands of a weak and easily manipulated king.
Jesus has brought us Good News that, like fire, must become a blaze. This Good News disturbs, threatens public peace, unsettles families, and provokes division, tearing, and confrontation. Jesus appears—yesterday and today—as a “sign of contradiction,” like a banner, which can be a banner of peace or a banner of war. We shouldn’t be surprised: great passion always leads to the Passion and the giving of one’s life. To be passionate means to suffer as Jesus did, true sign of contradiction for all men and women.
That means Jesus becomes, for each person, a real divider and a stumbling block. Before Him, each of us must take a stand: some will accept Him and be saved; others will reject Him and be lost. That’s why the Gospel—essentially a message of peace—becomes at the same time a declaration of war. And He will be the only ultimate criterion that divides humanity, until God Himself, at the final judgment (Mt 25:31ff), makes His own division.
History tells us that after the struggle comes peace, just as calm follows the storm. The Lord Jesus will always help us find peace and calm. But we cannot expect to find peace on false or dishonest foundations. The Kingdom of God is built on freedom, peace, justice, and love. And it’s obvious that many oppose freedom; they do not love peace because war is more profitable; they create their own version of justice to keep oppressing; and for them love is just another tool for manipulation and abuse, instead of seeing others as brothers and sisters. With such opposition, peace seems impossible. But this peace will one day come in its fullness—and it will come from Jesus Himself. Meanwhile, we must do our part, here and now.
In Europe, it may be hot outside, but perhaps we remain cold. Often we feel tired and fearful of the discomfort of being a Christian today, of standing against abortion, loveless sex, the death penalty, corruption, economic injustice… It’s our mission to continue Christ’s work and set the world around us on fire. Like my friend Pablo, who many weekends travels through Spain and Europe with other evangelizers to speak with people, give them a holy card or a Bible verse. To everyone they meet, they speak about the Lord—without fear. Let’s examine our daily life: if we’ve never been a cause of disagreement at work or among friends, maybe it’s because we find it hard to express our Christian convictions. May we be a sign that challenges those who meet us. That will mean we are on the right path.
Your brother in faith,