Unity in the Reality of Divisions
- Maddie Lindahl
- Aug 21, 2019
- 7 min read
A sermon given at Chisago Lakes Lutheran Church on August 18th, 2019 upon my return from my YAGM year in Linguere, Senegal.
Gospel Reading: Luke 12:49-53

Greetings and Impression of the Gospel
Salaam alekuum. Peace be with you. When I first read this gospel passage, I thought there was no way I could ever preach on it. Especially on a day when I was to talk about my experience in Senegal. “Peace” was one of the most frequently used words in my Wolof vocabulary. In Senegal, it is the response to almost any greeting question used at the beginning of conversations. For example, when someone asks you how you spent your night, the response is “jamm rekk.” Which means, “[I spent it in] peace only.”
So considering that Jesus states that he is not here to bring peace to earth, but rather
division, I was nervous. Even taken aback. But especially in this past year, I have learned to not accept things for how they seem. I have learned to dig deeper, consider and reconsider meanings lying beneath what appears to be the truth upon my first impression. And so, I reread this passage. Then I read it again, because I was still perplexed. And a few more readings later, I decided to just
pick a whole different passage from Luke.
Then I read this gospel one more time. And I noticed something. The first thing Jesus says is that he came to bring fire to the earth. To me, that statement seems very open to interpretation. “Fire” could mean anything from the fire of judgement, to lighting a fire for our commitment to justice and mercy. The second thing he says, is that he has a baptism with which to be baptized. In our church, we recognize and practice baptism, which is presumably the baptism Jesus is talking about in this passage, as a sacrament. It means something, and affects how we try to live our lives as Christians in this world.
Division
What really stuck out to me on that 10th (or so) reading, was that Jesus didn’t say: my goal is to divide you. He didn’t say, “I long for division and chaos in this world.” He said, “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!” Based on his statement, Jesus knew that division would result from his coming to earth. He perhaps knew that humans would take his life and teachings, and make it into a cause for division. The creation of the Christian church years after his death and resurrection certainly did cause divides. It created labels, and continues to provide labels and divisions to this day. We all know the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church of America) is not the same as the Missouri Synod. Lutherans are not the same as Baptists. Christians are not the same as Muslims. We are not the same.
We, especially in the United States, love our labels. And we suffer from staggering divides: between economic classes, races, political ideologies. Which side of the line are you on? My side, or theirs? We can’t seem to summon compassion for anyone considered an “other.” Sometimes we notice it, it is painfully obvious. Other times, this judgement, this separation, is invisible. We have learned and internalized these sorting mechanisms so deeply, that we do not even realize we are doing it. But it hurts. And I think a lot of you recognize that pain. It becomes uncomfortable to speak about anything more personal than the weather with someone you know you’ll disagree with. These divisions exist within our families, dividing “father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother” just as this scripture describes. And so, we are very well aware that even after Jesus’ life and death, there are still deep divisions in our world.
Baptism and Unity
But division wasn’t the only thing Jesus knew was coming. He also had a baptism. A baptism which he shared with us, claimed us with, and gathered us into. He says in this passage that he is under a great deal of stress until this baptism is completed, which makes it sound like it is a prioritized goal to him, much greater than the bringing of divisions.
To me, baptism is a unifying sacrament. It acknowledges that God has named and claimed us as a part of the body of Christ. As members of the body of Christ, of church, we are called. And one of the things we are called to is to love all neighbors, strangers, and enemies alike. So although the creation of church after Jesus’ life caused division, through baptism our goal is to once again work toward justice and unity.
My understanding of what unity is and why it’s essential changed profoundly during my year in Senegal. A common phrase in Wolof is “ñowfar,” which means “we are together.” To the people of Senegal, unity and “togetherness” are an essential part of living together in a peaceful way. They exemplify unity through interfaith relationships, fighting for justice, the welcoming of strangers, and radical hospitality. The Senegalese, regardless of what faith they identify with, are living out the unity we are called to create through baptism.
Unity Through Interfaith Relationships
I think the most stand-out example of Senegalese unity is their interfaith relationships. Being in relationship with those of other beliefs is not only important to them, but essential. Christians and Muslims work together, live together, and exist in the same families. My host dad is the President (think bishop) of the Senegalese Lutheran church, and one of his brothers is Muslim. People are not resentful of sharing their lives with people who proclaim different faiths, they celebrate it. In other words, people recognize and acknowledge the differences and divides that exist between them, and choose to love and live together even within that reality.
During my year, people did not shy away from political or religious conversations. They
allowed themselves to be led by curiosity, a genuine desire to learn more about other people through respectful dialogue. We talked about easy things like how religious holidays are observed for Christians and Muslims. We also talked about difficult things, like how the church is associated with colonialists who caused so much damage and pain in Senegal. And yet, people most often sought a deeper understanding of the person they were talking to: the culture, religion, and history they carry. We talked so that we could know what the other person stood for, what differences we have, and what we have in common.
At times, people got mad, and uncomfortable. They disagreed and sometimes
communicated it loudly to the person they were talking with. Or felt the need to stay silent. But most often, they still saw the other person and recognized their shared humanity at the end of the conversation. They still respected one another and maintained their relationship. That is truly an act of love.
And most often, these conversations highlighted how God is good to all of us, and through all of us. Both the Muslim and the Christian show devotion through prayer, giving alms, and worship. Despite the Islamophobia Muslims are subjected to, almost all that I talked to see Christian faith as an asset to the person who holds it.
Easily one of the best parts about being in interfaith relationships in Senegal is the partaking of one another’s celebrations. A gammou is a pilgrimage made by the Tidjane – one of the Muslim brotherhoods which exist in Senegal. Many towns in Senegal pick a date each year to host their own gammou, so there’s no set date across the country. I, and Andrew – the other YAGM in Linguere with me, got invited to a few different gammous throughout the year. Though our friends, host families, neighbors (whoever invited and hosted us) knew we are Christian, they wanted us to partake in this celebration. At gammous, there are a lot of party foods made and eaten, cold fruit
juice served all the time, and quality time spent with others.
Following the Muslims’ example of inclusion and togetherness, Christians share their Easter celebrations with their Muslim friends, family, coworkers, and neighbors. Each year, many Christian families make galaax the day before Easter. Galaax is a thin, peanut-buttery pudding. Once the galaax is done (and it takes an entire day to prepare), it is dished out into dozens of buckets and delivered by kids all over town to Christians and Muslims alike.
People of all faiths invite one another to come to their celebrations, their houses, their
tables in order to be together. Through these relationships, it is clear how deeply the people of Senegal care about respecting one another, maintaining peace, and creating unity.
Unity Through Advocating for Justice
Many Senegalese care deeply about increasing justice in our world. People have affinities for different causes: women’s rights and education, HIV/AIDS care and prevention, creating opportunities to provide people an income, teaching children, the list goes on. All the causes I listed are embodied in programs which SLDS (the Senegalese-run non-profit I worked for this year) runs. People work toward reconciliation and furthered justice within their communities because they see how the
people around them are affected by these issues. This work is intended to uplift one another, and is yet again a way which the Senegalese show love and create unity.
Unity Through Hospitality
One of the most transformative parts of my year was the radical hospitality I experienced. The people I would be living and working with for a whole year – including my host family – got a 1- page long biography of me and a single headshot before they agreed they wanted to have me in their community. That’s all they had to get to know me before I moved in. I was a stranger, and they welcomed me. This was a particularly radical situation, but all Senegalese practice and preach hospitality. Every single meal which is made is meant to be shared. Not only is there supposed to be enough food for your family, but also enough food to feed any neighbors who may happen to pass
by and stop to eat. This actually happens too. Being welcomed so often creates an atmosphere of unity. People are expected, invited, and belong. The radical hospitality I received and observed throughout my year is a beautiful response to the calling of our baptism.

Conclusion
Jesus can be divisive. In his name, we separate ourselves from others, allowing ourselves to draw lines and claim a sense of righteousness. But we need to remember that this baptism with which to be baptized is about being claimed. And being called. This baptism which Jesus reminds us he has for us is important, and it moves us to love our neighbors, enemies, and strangers. And despite the fact that all of the people I met and loved this year were on the other side of some boundary I may draw differentiating them from me: Muslim instead of Christian, Senegalese instead of American, black instead of white; they loved me and showed unity. They taught me how to increase the sense of unity within people. They taught me how to respond to this baptism with which I have been baptized. I thank them, and God, for it. Amen.
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