Jer. 38:4-6, 8-10; Heb. 12:1-4; Luk. 12:49-53.
The potter invited them into his home, fed them, and gave them clay pots to carry water. Soon, the villagers began to notice. "Why are you helping them?" they asked. "They don’t belong here."
The potter was shunned. His pottery shop was boycotted. His own brothers refused to speak to him. Yet he continued to help those in need. One evening, an old friend came to him and said, “You’re lighting a fire, and it will burn everything down.”
He replied, “Some fires burn, but others illuminate. I’d rather lose the approval of men than the light of God.”
Jesus said in Luke 12:49–53: “I have come to bring fire on the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! … Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division.”
Wherever the truth of God confronts the ways of this world, there is conflict. Wherever light shines, shadows are cast. And those who bear His light will feel the heat.
The history of God's people is filled with men and women who brought divine fire and faced human wrath. Moses stood against Pharaoh—not only the man but the empire he represented. When he said, “Let my people go,” it wasn’t just a call for liberation; it was a confrontation with a system built on slavery. Even his own people murmured against him, afraid of the consequences (Exodus 5:20-21). But Moses chose the fire of God’s justice over the comfort of compromise.
Elijah, on Mount Carmel, called down literal fire from heaven (1 Kings 18). He stood alone against 450 prophets of Baal. That fire consumed the offering and exposed the false religion of the people. What followed? Queen Jezebel sought his life. The man who lit the fire fled into the wilderness, broken and alone. Standing for God often means standing alone.
Jeremiah—the “weeping prophet”—was called from youth to proclaim judgment. He said, “But if I say, ‘I will not mention His word…,’ His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones” (Jer. 20:9). He was beaten, thrown into a cistern, mocked and imprisoned. Because he refused to say what people wanted to hear. These were spoke the word of God. So, they were rejected. They were divided from their families, friends, and people.
Jesus Himself was the ultimate embodiment of this fire. He confronted the Pharisees and scribes for their hypocrisy. He welcomed sinners, touched lepers, and spoke to Samaritans and women—violating cultural taboos. He turned over tables in the temple and called out injustice where others stayed silent.
He said, “Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you and insult you… because of the Son of Man” (Luke 6:22). He knew division would follow Him—not because He was divisive in temperament, but because His truth exposed lies.
His own hometown tried to throw Him off a cliff (Luke 4:29). His family thought He was out of His mind (Mark 3:21). His disciples deserted Him. The crowd shouted “Hosanna” one day and “Crucify Him” the next. The fire He brought cost Him everything.
The apostles, filled with the Holy Spirit, became bearers of this same fire.
Stephen, the first martyr, preached truth with boldness. He called out the religious leaders: “You stiff-necked people…” (Acts 7:51). They gnashed their teeth and stoned him. His face was like that of an angel—radiant with the fire of heaven, though crushed by the hate of men.
Paul, once a persecutor, became a preacher. He was shipwrecked, beaten, imprisoned, and eventually executed. He wrote, “All who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution” (2 Timothy 3:12).
Peter was crucified upside down. James was executed by Herod. The church grew not through comfort but through conflict. The fire Jesus kindled spread—not by the sword, but by the cross.
Throughout history, those who stood for God’s truth, justice, and love have been misunderstood and marginalized.
St. Francis of Assisi left behind wealth and privilege to embrace poverty and serve the poor. His father disowned him. He was mocked and ridiculed. Yet his life lit a fire that still burns.
Oscar Romero, Archbishop of El Salvador, spoke boldly against the oppression of the poor by the government and military. He was assassinated while offering Mass. His blood became the seed of a new conscience in Latin America.
Martin Luther King Jr., inspired by Christ’s teachings, led the civil rights movement. He was imprisoned, threatened, and ultimately assassinated. He said, “A man dies when he refuses to stand up for that which is right.”
A powerful contemporary example is Bishop Rolando Álvarez of Nicaragua. Bishop Álvarez has become a symbol of peaceful resistance in the face of political oppression. In recent years, Nicaragua’s authoritarian government under President Daniel Ortega has increasingly cracked down on dissent, including voices within the Catholic Church. Bishop Álvarez spoke out against human rights abuses, corruption, and the persecution of protesters, advocating for justice, peace, and dialogue.
In response, the government accused him of “undermining national integrity” and placed him under house arrest. In 2023, after refusing to leave Nicaragua when offered exile, he was sentenced to over 26 years in prison—stripped of his citizenship, and called a "traitor to the homeland."
His only “crime” was standing up for the truth of the Gospel, defending the poor, and calling out injustice. Though marginalized, Bishop Álvarez has remained steadfast, embodying Jesus' words in Luke 12: those who stand for God’s message will face opposition—even from within their own nation, community, or family.
These lives testify: the fire of Christ brings division—not because it seeks destruction, but because it cannot tolerate injustice, falsehood, or oppression.
Throughout Scripture and history, those who aligned themselves with God’s justice, truth, and mercy found themselves opposed, rejected, even persecuted. And yet, in their suffering, they became bearers of divine light. The world may label them troublemakers, but heaven calls them faithful.
Today, the fire continues to burn through those who live for truth: A Christian lawyer in Pakistan defends persecuted minorities and is branded a traitor. Environmental activists, inspired by God’s call to stewardship, are mocked and arrested.
Even within families, when someone chooses Jesus above tradition, the result is often division. In homes where faith is real, the cost can be rejection, mockery, or isolation.
When you forgive enemies, the vengeful feel convicted. When you proclaim the dignity of every human life, racists, elitists, and misogynists recoil. The Gospel offends not because it is violent, but because it is holy. And holiness threatens comfort.
The Christian are given the role to keep the fire burning. What does this mean for us? We are called to carry the fire. Jesus said, “You are the light of the world.” Not everyone will welcome that light. We must be prepared to be misunderstood, opposed, and even hated. This is not failure—it is faithfulness. We must stand with the poor and the oppressed. Jesus identified with “the least of these.” To follow Him is to challenge systems of injustice. It may cost us reputation, relationships, or resources. But neutrality in the face of injustice is complicity.
We must speak truth, even when it's unpopular. Like Jeremiah, we may feel the fire in our bones. Speak it, even if your voice shakes.
We must love even those who reject us. Jesus did not call for vengeance but for love. The division He brings is not born of hatred, but of holiness. We are called to forgive, to bless, to pray for those who persecute us.
The cross is where the fire of God’s love and the sin of the world collided. That fire has not gone out. It lives in every disciple who chooses faith over fear, truth over convenience, and love over comfort.
Satish