“I have come to set the world on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing.”
Luke 12:49
Did you know that the word fire is mentioned approximately 475 times in the Bible?
Certainly, the two most known references are that of Moses and the burning bush and the tongues of fire at Pentecost.
One of the most impressive stories of fire in the Old Testament is found in the book of Daniel. The Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzer puts three Israelites into a fiery furnace as punishment for not worshiping idols. The three men, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, are preserved from harm by the presence of an angel of God, and walk through the flames singing and praising God.
Along with these stories, we read metaphors of fire as an agent of cleansing, removing our sins as the refiner’s fire, in which impurities are taken out of precious metals. “You tested us, O God, tried us as silver tried by fire” (Psalm 66:10).
And still, we find some incredibly beautiful and poetic references, in which fire is associated with love:
Set me as a seal upon your heart,
Song of Songs 8:6
as a seal upon your arm;
For Love is strong as Death,
longing is fierce as Sheol.
Its arrows are arrows of fire,
flames of the divine.
Simultaneously, there are hundreds of references to fire as a tool of destruction, a punishment for those who inflame God’s anger, and in justice for some sinfulness, especially in the Old Testament.
Even Jesus speaks of the fires of Gehenna and the chaff being burned in the unquenchable fire. Finally, the Book of Revelation paints a scary picture of “the pool of fire” and “the smoke of the fire that torments them…forever and ever” (Rev 14:11).
Which begs the question, which is it?
Is fire a method of punishment or a representation of divine love?
Does it consume or does it purify?
Is fire a weapon of destruction or means to light the way?
As “luck” would have it, as I was writing about these things, I happened to read Pope Benedict XVI’s encyclical Spe Salvi. Here’s what he had to say:
“Some recent theologians are of the opinion that the fire which both burns and saves is Christ himself, the Judge and Savior. The encounter with him is the decisive act of judgement. Before his gaze all falsehood melts away. This encounter with him, as it burns us, transforms and frees us, allowing us to become truly ourselves.”
Spe Salvi, 47
Evidently, it seems it’s all about perspective. It can be both, and the way the fire of God’s love ultimately affects us, whether in judgement or redemption, depends upon us.
Will it be the fires that burn in torment because we have rejected God’s love? Or will we have to undergo the purifying fire, where our impurity will be burned away, before we can abide in God’s Presence? Or are our souls on fire, burning with the flames of divine Love?
Ideally, God’s Love will burn strongly in us, to warm, to attract, to give light, to push out the darkness and to ignite other fires. Too often, however, we let our fires dwindle and almost burn out. And if we allow that to happen, we will find ourselves, like the chaff collected at harvest, burning in that painful fire.
Yet, as long as we walk this earth, there is always, always a small burning ember of the fire of God’s love in our hearts.
So how do we enkindle the fire of God’s love?
First, we make the choice to not let it go out.
We need to realize that we have that choice to make. We don’t get to say, “I’ve lost my faith.” That’s not true. You have let your faith burn out.
So we decide. We turn to Him and say, “God, I want to believe. Help my unbelief.” Do you think a prayer like this will not be answered?!
We make a movement of our hearts – a turning to Him. And He hears and sees us from far off, like the prodigal’s father, and comes out to meet us where we are.
So, what do we do next?
Then, like the prodigal son, we exclaim our sorrow. We repent of the ways that we have failed, the ways we have allowed our fire to die out.
And we begin rebuilding the base of our fire by adding firewood – the Sacraments – Reconciliation and then the Eucharist. But we being with the Sacrament of Mercy, the place we are cleansed of our sins.
At this point, we know our fire needs our attention, and we’ve added the firewood. But the firewood needs to be replenished often. We need to return over and over again to the Sacraments. We can’t keep this flame alive on our own. It is God’s flame, His Love within us. So it must be Him who replenishes it. He must give us His divine life, His grace, through the Sacraments.
But to truly grow that fire, we need some kindling to fuel those flames. We need to add prayer – daily, consistent prayer.
We need to keep adding kindling each and every day. It’s not enough to pray when we feel like, or when it occurs to us. The fire dwindles pretty quickly in this world. It is easily doused by a multitude of worldly concerns and assaults of every kind of temptation. So we must commit ourselves to kindling the flame in prayer.
If we’ve gotten this far, we probably have a pretty good blaze going. Maybe it’s even big enough that it is warming others.
Yet still we can fan those flames giving oxygen to the fire. This means rooting out all sin and developing the virtues. It is exercising self-denial and dying to self. It involves picking up our cross daily, giving everything to God, and following only His will.
Of course, this will be the hardest part of the process. But we aren’t just building a little camp fire, to warm those few lucky ones around it. We are building a bonfire, a blaze which can light other fires.
We want to be that fire of which Jesus speaks.
Let us desire nothing but to be so consumed by God’s love that we set the world ablaze. Let us turn to the Sacraments whole-heartedly, invest our time in prayer and fuel it all with virtues, self-sacrifice and burning charity.
Lord, set the world on fire through us!
