Friends
Peace be with you.
In my mind, there’s nothing better than sitting next to a fire on a cold winter’s day like yesterday. It reminds me of when I was a kid and we’d go camping as a family. We’d always have a campfire at night and share stories and eat campfire food right before bedtime. Nowadays, I have a small electric fireplace that safely mimics a campfire with less of a chance of starting my house on fire. One of the few things I can look forward to in winter is one of those snowy days where I can’t go anywhere or do anything so I sit next to that fireplace and read between naps.
For some reason, the theme of fire has regularly appeared in my spiritual life this Fall. It started when I showed a video from the priest-physicist Fr. Robert Spitzer about the Shroud of Turin for one of my Thursday morning Koffee Klatsches. In the video, he said two things of which I was unaware. First, to make the shroud, it would “require billions of watts of light energy, far exceeding the capabilities of any known UV source today”. He attributed this to the kind of energy it took to provide the resurrection. I thought about the descriptions the four evangelists use to describe Jesus at the Transfiguration. St. Matthew and St. Luke both say, “his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white..” St. Mark says “his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.” Fr. Spitzer also reported about something called "’zinc sparks,’ where a fertilized egg releases a burst of zinc ions, creating a tiny, visible flash of light when a sperm meets an egg, essentially marking the moment of conception…” So, there’s a kind of fire in creation and recreation. Shortly thereafter as part of my daily prayer, I re-read the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, the three men from the Book of Daniel who refused to worship the King of Babylon as though he were God. Their punishment, you may remember, was to be burned alive. However, despite heating the furnace warmer than usual, not only did they survive but the text says that the King and his advisors saw “one like a son of man” protecting them in the fire, a reality Christians have attributed to Jesus’ presence. Lastly, on this past Friday, the church celebrated the memorial of the martyrdom of St. Lucy. She was betrothed to be married to a man but had secretly consecrated herself to remain a life-long virgin, sort of an early church Nun. When she refused to break her vows of virginity they decided to put her to death by fire. However, like those three young men in the Old Testament, she was protected from the flames by her savior.
All of this has made me pause and think about the two ways St. John the Baptist talks about fire in today’s gospel. First, he says that Jesus will baptize us with the Holy Spirit and fire. Then, toward the end of the passage, he says that the chaff will burn in unquenchable fire. It seems like St. John isn’t sure if fire is a good thing or a bad thing. If we’re being baptized into it, it seems like the warm comfort of a fireplace, whereas when he says that the wheat will go into the barn but he will burn up the chaff in fire, that appears that the fire is divine punishment, thus not something we’d want to mess with. However, I think that’s the advantage of using fire. It’s something we can sit around to keep warm but it’s also something that can start a field on fire. If you let wheat drop upwind from a hot fire, the wheat itself will fall unharmed on the ground or into a basket because it is heavy enough to do so but the garbage or chaff, which is much lighter, will be caught by the wind and blow into the flames to be burnt up.
That’s the image St. Luke wants us to have today. It’s what we do to our sins when we go to confession, we keep the good deeds we have done but allow the fire of God’s love to burn up our sins. That’s also what happens, in the Mass, when we offer our less serious sins to God. We have that fire inside of us from baptism and can burn up our sins before they burn us up. Is our faith life on fire burning up our sins and drawing into a life of resurrected faith or do we need to ask God to take out his winnowing fan to fan it back into flame?