Brief synopsis of the readings: We begin today from the book of the prophet Jeremiah. His prophesies have sufficiently angered the princes that they demand his death. He is accused of demoralizing the city with his words. “[H]e is not interested in the welfare of our people, but in their ruin.” Not wanting to stand up to them, King Zedekiah told them: “He is in your power.” They then threw Jeremiah into and empty cistern that had no food or water. But a court official, Ebed-melech the Cushite, appealed to the king, telling him that Jeremiah would die of famine “for there is no more food in the city.” At the king’s order Jeremiah is rescued from the cistern. In Luke’s Gospel Jesus proclaims this message: “I have come to set the earth on fire.” He goes on to explain that he has not come to bring peace on earth but instead will divide people, even down to the household level.

So what do we do with anger? Clearly anger claims center stage in these readings and we can be excused if we find these readings uncomfortable. You see, we live in a world that does not know what to do with anger, and (if we’re going to be honest) we’d be thrilled to live in a world where nobody chose to, or needed to, express anger.

From our earliest days since we were born we’ve had to deal with need. Babies cry because they are hungry, thirsty, or need to be changed. We speak of the “terrible twos” because they have learned the word “no” and (more to the point) they can articulate anger when their needs are not met.

Many of us were told in the next few years that anger was wrong. Expressing anger at parents, teachers, babysitters, or other adults constituted a sin. Anger at God moved to a new level, mortal sin. We were told this because anger was seen as a form of ingratitude or betrayal. Our anger was thinly veiled ignorance and ingratitude of all that we were given.

And with all due respect to my parents, teachers, babysitters, and other adults, it’s more complicated than that. Sometimes we express anger because justice demands it.

As children we expressed anger when our needs were not met. And those needs were simple: we’re hungry, or thirsty, or not included. As adolescents we got pretty good at taking care of hunger or thirst, but loneliness and exclusion took on new importance. As adults we’ve never completely grown out of exclusion, but it’s (hopefully) taken second place to our recognition that success and failure often depended on variables beyond our control.

The fact that some are “to the manor born” while others are born into poverty should concern us, especially those of us who follow Jesus. If we Christians believe nothing else, we should belive this: Everyone born of this earth should be given all he (or she) needs to survive and thrive.

But our history shows us, again and again, that we need to return to these readings to believe this. We have seen, in the last century, the blossoming of what is often called the “prosperity gospel,” the belief that wealth results from God’s blessing. They don’t emphasize much the need to share wealth those less fortunate because God could bless them also, and doesn’t. On the other hand I return often the words of the American comedian and talk show host, Stephen Colbert: If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn’t help the poor, either we have to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we’ve got to acknowledge that He commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition and then admit that we just don’t want to do it.

And while Jeremiah’s calling out of the wicked isn’t necessarily economic (we see more of that in the prophet Amos) it’s nonetheless about wickedness. We’re reading about these events thousands of years afterward and it’s easy to sanitize these events. It’s easy and sometimes fashionable to admire these prophets but it’s more complicated that this. It’s often said that prophets are called to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. Every place and every generation gives us prophets and they often don’t overlap with diplomats.

Jeremiah was one of those people. He wanted his people to follow God’s laws but he recognized that they didn’t. Given that he warned them that their lives would do badly in exile. At first they ignored him and then they sought revenge. Our passage today begins with them wanting to kill Jeremiah and they convinced the king to let them do it. It was only through the intervention of the court official Ebed Melech that Jeremiah didn’t die in the cistern.

Why couldn’t Jeremiah just keep quiet? If he knew the depth of anger he would create with his words, why bother? I believe that a prophet is a different type of person. He or she is someone who hates wickedness, can’t just “go along” and has little concern for the price he or she will have to pay. If we think hard enough, I believe we can identify a coworker, neighbor, or family member who fits this description. They refuse to go along with a bad idea because the boss loves it, or they stand up to the neighborhood bully and calls him out. A word of advice: if you encounter someone who angers you for not being “part of the team” while at the same time you secretly wish more people agreed with him, he’s probably a prophet.

We don’t often think of Jesus as a prophet, but he really is. Just as the passage of time can whitewash Jeremiah’s words, so too can we see Jesus as too tame. If we put Jesus in the small box of a “wise teacher” we need only look at this reading from Luke. He was right: his words did divide families then. Imagine you’re a good Jew, and your brother comes home and tells you that he has met the Messiah and wants to follow him. You disagree.

You both believe you are following the same God and each of you doubt the faith of the other. You both believe you are the voice of reason but neither of you can convince the other. What do you do?

Well, the first thing you need to do is understand that you two may never agree. I confess I’ve never liked the word tolerance because I’ve always thought it carried with it a sense of smugness (“God and I know I’m right and I’m big enough to know this”). But tolerance is a necessary step to what I think we’re called to: a recognition of the fact that we are all doing the best we can. We best hear Jeremiah and follow Jesus when we listen with our hearts and souls instead of our ambitions and fears.