Father Snort: Recent Episodes
Bradley J. Sullivan
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church October 24, 2021 Proper 25, B Mark 10:46-52
Remove our fear and our love can flourish
So, Jesus met a man on the outskirts of Jericho who was blind and lived his life begging on the streets. Who was this guy? Did he have any family? If so, why wouldn’t they care for him? He wasn’t crazy. Had no demon. He wasn’t dangerous. He was, however, obviously a pretty terrible sinner, otherwise he wouldn’t have been blind. That was often the thinking. Rich? Successful? God had blessed you because you were so deserving. Poor and downtrodden? Well, I don’t know what you did to anger, God, but maybe stay over there because I don’t want any part of it.
Never mind that God clearly states in the Book of Job that prosperity and adversity don’t come to people because God has chosen to bless them or curse them. Unlike us, God doesn’t play favorites. Unlike us, God doesn’t share with those he likes and shun the ones he doesn’t. The man’s blindness was not due to divine retribution for anything, and yet people of Jericho probably saw the blind man as cursed by God. That tended to be the thinking.
Perhaps that’s why no one would take him in. Thinking he was cursed, people let him beg on the street. They even shushed him when he tried to talk to Jesus to ask to be healed. “Oh be quiet, he shouldn’t heal the likes of you.” Or maybe, “We don’t want him to know you’re here; he’ll think badly of us.”
In any case, Jesus heard the man crying out to him, and Jesus cared about the man, calling him to come to him. What Jesus didn’t do was ask for any sign of repentance. He didn’t ask the man to stop sinning. He didn’t tell him to forgo his wicked ways, he just asked him what he wanted. “I’d really like to see,” the guy said. “Cool, I can take care of that;” Jesus replied, “your faith has made you well.” With that, Jesus healed him, and the man followed Jesus as a disciple.
By Jesus’ response to the man, we know that his blindness was not any sort of divine punishment. No repentance required. The fear and disdain which the people of Jericho had for this blind man was not necessary. God hadn’t cursed him, and God wasn’t going to curse them if they were near to him or kind to him.
Perhaps then, in healing the blind man, Jesus healed not only him, but also the people of Jericho. Consider the message given to the people of Jericho by the fact of Jesus healing this man.
“You needn’t be so fearful, isolating and shunning those who are downtrodden. You needn’t be so afraid of God that you shun those you think are being punished by God. That’s not how God works. See, you have great love inside of you; that’s how God works, and if you remove your fear, your love can flourish. You can love and care for the downtrodden. You needn’t shun them. You can love them.”
There are people who often get shunned nowadays by a good number of Christians. Those who get shunned include our lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer siblings, shunned because they are seen as sinners, quite possibly cursed by God. They aren’t, of course, and there is no reason for them to be shunned. We see more and more of our LGBTQ+ siblings coming to meet Jesus in the Episcopal Church because by and large, they aren’t shunned here, and like the blind man, they follow Jesus as disciples and apostles.
Of course there are other groups of people who get shunned by various Christian groups. Those who welcome our LGBTQ+ siblings often end up shunning those who had shunned our LGBTQ+ siblings. The shunner becomes the shunned. Fear, hurt, even compassion for a group of people are all reasons why we end up shunning others, but having compassion on one group of people doesn’t mean we have to shun another group of people.
We have great love inside of us; that’s how God works, and if we remove our fear, our love can flourish.
We needn’t fear giving compassion to fearful, angry people. Folks get angry because they are fearful. I daresay we all know what that feels like. Right now, we’ve got folks who are afraid of COVID and so they are taking precautions against it. We’ve also got folks who are afraid of losing their jobs due to the precautions against COVID harming the economy. We can have compassion on both groups. Even as we get terribly afraid and the other group causes us even greater fear, we can still have compassion for fearful people. Jesus’ healing of the blind man shows us that. People are afraid, and we don’t need to be against one group of frightened people in order to be for another group of frightened people.
God was not cursing the blind man, and Jesus’ compassion on him showed that compassion on one another is God’s desire for us. God doesn’t desire our contempt for those we fear. Of course, we’re going to feel contempt for those we fear, and that’s what we get to give to God, rather than to them. God can handle our contempt of others, as we give it over to God and ask his healing to remove our fear and contempt so that love can flourish. That’s how God works, through the great love inside of us.
We never need fear showing compassion. We needn’t fear showing compassion and love for the wrong sorts of people. The blind man was seen as the wrong sort of person by the people of Jericho. We’ve got lots of wrong sorts of people in our world. Vaxers, anti-vaxers. Maskers, anti-maskers. Believers in climate change and climate change deniers. Those sinful groups of people whose morals and views of the world are utterly at odds with God’s ways, and those pointing out those sinful groups of people who believe that their own morals and views of the world are in step with God’s ways.
All of these groups of people are doing their best in the world to do the right thing. All of these groups of people have great fear and end up behaving out of that fear. All of these groups of people get to have compassion shown to them. All of them, and all of us have great love inside; that’s how God works, and if we remove our fear, our love can flourish.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church October 17, 2021 Proper 24, B Mark 10:35-45
Be a Friendly, Neighborhood Spider-Man
In the movie Spider-Man: Homecoming, Spider-Man, aka Peter Parker, desperately wants to be an Avenger. The Avengers, such as Iron Man, Captain America, and Black Widow, are Earth’s mightiest superheroes. Their base of operations is Avengers Tower, they are known throughout the world, and they are the ones you call when the really big bad stuff happens.
Spider-Man has superpowers, and at the same time, he’s a teenager, Peter Parker, still in high school. His quest to be an Avenger keeps being denied, and he is discouraged because he has lofty ambitions, and wants to do more than just help the people of his neighborhood, Queens, New York. He wants to be saving the world. He wants a spot at Avengers Tower.
Well, through all the twists and turns of the movie, eventually, he is offered a place among the Avengers, but by that time, he’s come to see the value not only of “saving the world,” but also the value of being there for the people around him. He turns down the offer to be an Avenger, saying, “Well, I mean, I'd rather just stay on the ground for a little while[, be a] friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Somebody's got to look out for the little guy, right?”
He didn’t need glory. He didn’t need fame. Look out for the little guy, and be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
When James and John, the sons of Zebedee asked Jesus to sit next to Jesus when he came into his glory, they were basically wanting to be Avengers. They thought Jesus was going to rule over Israel as king, and so they wanted to sit on either side of his throne. Of course this first meant fighting a war against Rome with Jesus at the helm, and after destroying the Romans and avenging Israel, they would rule over Israel with Jesus.
They misunderstood of course one thing, that Jesus wasn’t going to be fighting any war against Rome. They also misunderstood their role, their importance, and their need for a throne in order to be effective as disciples of Jesus. Notice that Jesus didn’t rebuke them for their request. The other disciples did, they were pretty hacked off about it, but Jesus saw that James and John were actually thinking too little of themselves, as if they didn’t matter without some throne, as if they couldn’t really make a difference without a throne. So, Jesus calmed his disciples, called them to him, and taught them a lesson about who they were and what their ministry really was.
“You know that among the Gentiles,” Jesus said, “those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you…” He didn’t say “it should not be so among you;” that you shouldn’t be tyrants over each other. Jesus said, “it is not so among you.” “You are not tyrants over each other.”
Rather than rebuke James and John, Jesus looked into their hearts and saw not a desire for tyranny or greatness for their own sake. Jesus saw a desire for good, and in his response, Jesus is basically saying, Y’all are asking for greatness, and knowing your hearts, I can see that you aren’t asking to be tyrants over others. Your hearts are in the right place. What you are asking for is a serving role, but you don’t need a throne to do that. You already serve, even in seeming lowliness. The service you are doing is just as important and often more important than that of lords of rulers.
Keep your feet on the ground for a while. Be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
That’s where we find the most effective and Christ-like ministry has been throughout the church. The church as Empire is not what grew disciples of Jesus and healed peoples’ lives. The church as mighty and ruling over others has actually ended up causing a lot of harm in the name of Jesus. No, the real ministry of Jesus through the people of his church happened in the people of the church serving with each other and serving with those in their neighborhoods, looking out for the little guys. The same is true in our world today.
Now, this is not to say that there is not good ministry being done by the church on an institutional, organizational level. There is much good ministry being done through the organizations and institutions of the church engaging with other organizations and institutions, even globally. There has just been formed an Episcopal Church delegation to the United Nations for an upcoming UN conference in Glasgow, Scotland. Ellen Singer, from our diocese, will be part of that Episcopal Church delegation to the United Nations. That’s pretty cool. That’s global-level influence of the Episcopal Church.
Now, when I first heard of that UN Delegation, my reaction was about like Spider-Man wanting to be an Avenger or James and John wanting to be next to Jesus in his glory. I thought, “I want to go to the United Nations,” but then I quickly realized, “Yeah, actually I really don’t.” I’m glad for those who do. There is great ministry that is done within large bodies, organizations, institutions, and that’s a good thing for the church to be able to offer counsel for those making decisions that affect many, or most, or all. Not to be in charge as Lords over people, but to counsel those who are.
Even so, the majority of Jesus’ ministry through the people of his church happens in the neighborhood. The majority of Jesus’ ministry through the people of his church happens in the relationships we have and the relationships we continue to cultivate and form. We don’t need titles, or thrones, or global-level influence to do important ministry as disciples of Jesus.
Helping the kids and teachers at Rhoads Elementary is important ministry, looking out for the little guy. Ministering to people with Alzheimer’s and Dementia through The Gathering Place is important ministry, looking out for the little guy. Calling your friend or neighbor who is having a rough time and having some coffee or lunch together to connect and go through that time with that person is important ministry, looking out for the little guy.
No one needs to be an Avenger to be a disciple of Jesus. We just need to look out for the little guy, keep our feet on the ground, and be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church October 10, 2021 Proper 23, B Mark 10:17-31
“F%&k You Jobu, I’ll Do It Myself.”
In the 1989 movie, Major League, star slugger, Pedro Cerano, could hit the ball clear out of the park as often and with a swing almost as beautiful as Yordan Alvarez’. Unfortunately, in the movie Major League, Pedro Cerano, superstar slugger, could not hit a curve ball, nor could he presumably lay off of them? So, he routinely stuck out as other teams realized that the curve ball was his Kryptonite.
The best solution might have been to work with a hitting coach, but alas, Pedro’s solution came in the form of a tiny, crazy-haired statue of a wild-eyed man he called Jobu. Pedro offered Jobu rum and cigars, and once even a whole chicken (KFC) in order to help him hit the curve ball. Jobu was a straight up idol which Pedro was using to try to make his life easier. When it kept not working, Pedro finally said, “[To heck with] you, Jobu, I’ll do it myself,” at which point he of course hit a curve ball out of the park.
I bring this up, one because I’m a little excited about the Astros and the postseason, and two, because Pedro’s use of Jobu is a pretty good example of an idol being used to try to make life easier. Ancient idols, carved or sculpted, set in homes and prayed to were meant to keep bad things away, to make life easier. Idols were thought to grant your requests if you prayed to them just right, if you gave them rum and cigars and whole chickens.
Now, many of us don’t have small statue idols like Jobu that we use to try to make life easier, but idols can come in many forms. For the man who asked Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”, his idol was his wealth. His wealth, his riches, his stuff made life easier, and he seems to have believed that he could’t be happy unless life was easy, that he couldn’t be happy unless life wasn’t hard. See, unlike Jobu, the rich man’s idol seems to have been working for him in making his life less hard. So, when Jesus told him to set aside his money, the idol that made life easier, he thought that he couldn’t be ok without it. He believed that he couldn’t be ok if life was hard, so he walled himself off from life in God’s kingdom.
Here’s a secret, life is always going to be hard, at least hard at times, and no amount of rum offered to Jobu is going to change that.
“How hard it will be,” Jesus said, “for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of heaven.” How hard it will be to enter the kingdom of heaven for those who fear life being hard and aren’t willing to risk life being hard. That was the challenge for the rich man whose idol was his money. Well, here’s another secret, you don’t gotta be rich to have idols get in the way of risking for the kingdom of God.
Will I be ok? Will I have enough? Will I be enough? Do I have enough money, time, experience, expertise? How will I possibly be ok if I give up much of anything that I have? These are fears that I dare say all of us face, and I dare say most of us have some kind of Jobu to which we offer rum. Sometimes that idol is simply walling ourselves off from risk.
Into all of that fear and unknowing, Jesus is teaching us to trust God in the unknowing, accepting the fact that yes, things may fall apart, and to trust that we are enough (and there are others with us). Jesus is teaching that we can never offer Jobu enough rum to safeguard against life being hard, so be ok with taking risks and giving things up for the sake of God’s kingdom.
“We gave stuff up!” Peter said in his very very Peter way. “Yes,” Jesus replied, “and you are going to receive much more, people around you to support you so that you will be ok even without as much money, time, or rum and cigars to offer to Jobu.”
Jesus’ disciples gave up the protection of life as they knew it in order to live life in God’s kingdom with new people, new situations. Often we protect ourselves by walling ourselves off from new situations. We keep ourselves from entering new relationships and new situations for which we feel we are not enough. Our walls feel like they make life easier, but remember what God did to make life easier in Genesis 2? God made a human companion. Humans were made to be helpers and supports for each other. We find wholeness in new relationships and risk because we were meant to be there for each other. That’s life in God’s kingdom.
So, for a way that we can be there for each other and for others, to risk new relationships, I’m going to turn things over to Kathryn Johnson, Counselor at Rhodes Elementary school. We have begun a partnership with Rhodes Elementary to serve and minister there, and Mrs. Johnson is going to talk with us about the school and how we can serve and minister there.
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Jesus is calling us in this time and in this place, in our new home, to risk for the sake of relationship, connection, and service in God’s kingdom. Serving and ministering at Rhodes is one of the ways Jesus is calling us, and the usual questions probably arise. Will I have enough time? Do I have enough expertise? What do I know about serving with kids? I’m too old to relate, or I’m too inexperienced to know what I’m doing.
With our questions, doubts and uncertainties, realize there will never be enough protection, there will never be enough rum for Jobu to make us ready or enough. Like the man with great wealth, Jesus is calling us to life in his kingdom, even though it may be hard. He’s also assuring us that what we’ll find in serving others is the peace that we’re looking for. What we find in giving up our various Jobus, in risking new relationships in new situations, is that we actually are enough; we actually can hit that curve ball. We actually don’t need all of our protection to make life less hard. We have each other, and we have a wonderful new opportunity to serve and live the life of God’s kingdom.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church September 26, 2021 Proper 121, B Mark 7:24-37
Glorious Train Wrecks and Glorious Symphonies
Have you ever had a terrible empathy fail? You’re overcome with emotion, exhausted, and totally stressed out by all that is going on, and you feel completely not good enough for all that is going on. So, you talk to a friend about it. The friend responds with, “Oh, that’s ok, it was so much worse for me last year.” You end up feeling even worse, like you’re still not good enough, but now you’re also unimportant.
I’ve been in a workshop for the last couple days called, “Dare to Lead,” made by and based on the work of Brene Brown. She is a researcher and author of “Dare to Lead,” “The Daring Way,” and other books about shame, how destructive shame is for us, and how empathy is the antidote for shame.
Different from guilt which says, “I messed up or did something bad,” shame says, “I am messed up, and I am bad.” Shame is the feeling of being totally unworthy of love and belonging. Alone. Scared. Not good enough. Not worth people’s time. One of the major antidotes for shame is empathy. Empathy helps us feel connected to others. Empathy doesn’t dismiss our pain, our fears, or the things we’ve done. Empathy looks at us as we are, warts and all, and says says, “I’m here with you; I get it; you aren’t alone; and you are totally worthy of love and belonging.”
Sadly, a lot of Christian theology says the opposite. We’re sinners, totally unworthy, and destined for torment forever. That’s what we deserve…unless we believe in Jesus. Then, we’re still unworthy, but God loves us anyway. That’s a pretty abusive theology. Shame is at its root. You’re terrible, unworthy, you don’t belong; you’re no good; you should be punished. Shame, being unworthy of love and belonging.
Then, according to these theologies, Jesus comes along and says, believe in me, and God won’t punish you forever…because God loves you. That’s what abusers do to their victims. Tear them down, make them feel worthless, and then say, “I love you, and I alone can make you well, not worthy of love…but I alone will love you even though you are totally unworthy.”
That’s about control, not empathy or love. It’s bad theology which turns God into an abuser, rather than a loving God.
See the truth of our nature is that we are made beautiful, wonderful, and totally worthy of love and belonging. We’re not born with some stain of original sin. We’re born, and we are hurt over time. We fear. We act out. We hurt others our of our own hurt. God is of course not happy with all of the hurt and harm we do, but God does not see us a terrible and totally unworthy of love. God loves us and hates to see us hurting ourselves and hurting each other.
So, to help heal us, God became human, showing us empathy and love. God, Jesus, knows exactly what it’s like to be human. Life is hard; being human is hard. It’s beautiful, and messy, and painful; a glorious train-wreck, and a glorious symphony all at once. By joining with us in being human, God says, “I’m here with you; I get it; you aren’t alone; and you are totally worthy of love and belonging.”
So then, believing that theology, that we are worthy of love and belonging, believing that God is not just trying to control us with fear and shame, what is Jesus saying with this dismemberment/mutilation lesson?
Well, obviously, Jesus is not literally telling us to cut off our hands or else he’ll punish us forever. I know it sounds that way. “It is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands…and to be thrown into hell.” “If you mess up too much, I’m going to hurt you…forever.” That’s not love. That’s shame, control, fear and abuse. Remember, Jesus loves us and we are worthy of God’s love and belonging. This dismemberment/mutilation lesson, then, cannot be saying, cut off your hand or I’ll punish you forever. The lesson cannot be about shaming us and forcing control over us with coercion.
Hear the lesson instead in the light of empathy and love, and you’ll see that this lesson is about taking seriously the harm we can cause, showing us just how bad that harm can be, and so encouraging us to take big steps to choose instead a way of healing and restoration.
“Golly, cutting off my hand sounds terrible, and Jesus is saying that the harm I can cause to myself and others with my hand can be even worse than that. I can harm other people in ways that are worse than removing my hand; I can in fact harm people in ways that become like Hell on Earth. I can’t bring about Hell on Earth. I really don’t want to do that; I don’t want to cause harm like that. I mean, I’m often hurt and angry, but gee whiz, I don’t want to bring about Hell on Earth. Maybe I oughta seek another way?”
See, this cast into hell part of Jesus’ lesson is not really unknown to us. Planes flown into buildings. Being so angry and feeling so alone that it seems like me against the world. Choosing numbing behaviors so much that people never address the problems in their lives, but just keep growing more isolated and resentful. Politicians wanting to win so badly and being so assured of their righteousness that they denigrate the other side as being evil, bringing about such division and strife that we can’t even countenance the thought that there may be some good coming from the other side, that freedom and public health become enemies of each other.
We get being cast into hell. We do it to ourselves all the time. Not casting ourselves into Hell on Earth can take drastic change, drastic giving up of something we hold dear and can’t imagine being without. Giving up the need to be right in a religious belief and for others to share in that belief. Letting go of resentments and accepting one’s own faults so that it is no longer me agains the world. Letting go of numbing so that we actually have to work together on life’s challenges. Giving up dehumanizing anger and entrenched wrangling over ideological differences so that we don’t make things even worse than our fears of what might happen if the other side won.
Giving up these things can feel like cutting off one’s own hand, or foot, or eye. Jesus is then hold up that pain next to the pain of the hells that we often make and cast each other into. Jesus is showing empathy and love, saying, “I know the healing work is hard, and I know, as we all know, how much harder life is without that healing work. Even though it can feel like cutting off your own hand, doing that healing work is so much better than living through Hell on Earth.”
God loves us, not in spite of us being unworthy of God’s love. God loves us as God’s children, and we are totally worthy of God’s love and belonging. God also teaches us hard lessons because God knows life can be even harder without them. “I’m here with you; I get it,” God says. “You aren’t alone; and you are totally worthy of love and belonging.”
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church September 5, 2021 Proper 18, B Mark 7:24-37
Casting Down Our sIeDlOvLeSs
There have often been times when I’ve been in a large group of people and found that I had a great fondness for a good many of the people there, and at the same time, I’ve found a great antipathy for another large part of the group. I’m referring to times when I’ve been to a sporting event like an Astros game. Folks wearing the Astros shirts and hats, well they’re my people. There is this connection, this bond, this belonging we feel for each other. We don’t know anything at all about each other, but we’re wearing the same color t-shirt. We belong together for that night in the tribe of the Astros.
Now the fans in the Yankees shirts, for example, well we just don’t belong together. I may have much more in common with them, may like them immensely more outside of that stadium and in different t-shirts, but for that night, at the game, we are two different groups who do not belong together. I’m overstating things a bit of course, but forming exclusive groups is something we humans tend to be pretty good at doing.
“No girls allowed.” “No boys allowed.” Little kids making their own often temporary exclusive groups. It seems innocent enough; it usually is, and children’s “No Boys Allowed” and “No Girls Allowed” clubs also show us how, even early in our lives, we tend toward forming like groups that exclude those who are not alike.
This forming of like groups makes some sense. Sometimes people want to be with folks who are most obviously like them. Sadly, these like groups or exclusive groups can end up hurting those who are excluded. Even kids’ “boys only” or “girls only” clubs can unintentionally hurt those who are excluded. Some kids grow up not quite sure where they fit, not sure where they belong: with the girls or with the boys. I think of Steve, as I knew her years ago, now Beth, who had this experience growing up. There was no intention of excluding her, and yet there wasn’t really a place for her on the playground when the gym teacher said, “Boys over here, girls over there.”
Oftentimes we don’t mean to exclude, we’re just trying to have a group gathered around a particular similarity. Other times, we very much mean to exclude, to exclude those who are deemed as unworthy, undesirable, or not belonging.
“Whites only.” “No Jews.” “No Irish.” “Women need not apply.” There are countless ways our society and all societies have excluded others, and the Church, much as it tries to love, has often been a willing part of such exclusion.
In the past, our churches have been intentionally racially segregated. We have kept women out of ministry even though Jesus and the early Church did not. We’ve allowed members of the LGBTQ+ community to be a part of the church, so long as they were quiet about and hid who they were. That’s just a partial list of how the institution itself has excluded groups from the church. Even more are the ways individuals have removed people they felt were undesirable. They disapproving look given, the audible whispers of disdain, the snubbing of some, and the outright statement that “you would be happier somewhere else” to others.
Excluding others in the church has a long history, probably as long as the church has been around. Even the earliest members of the church were human and full of the same challenges that we all have, wanting to feel comfortable, wanting to belong, and sometimes excluding others to make sure we felt comfortable in our own belonging.
Even in Jesus’ day, before he had established his church, Jesus was a part of this human tendency toward exclusion. When a woman who was a Gentile begged Jesus to cast a demon out of her daughter, he initially refused. He called her a dog. He saw her as unworthy, as undesirable, as not belonging. Jesus was acting as he had been taught. We don’t associate with those Gentile dogs.
Then, the woman didn’t fight Jesus or refute his claim of her beastliness. “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs,” she said. Supporting Jesus’ claim, she revealed it for what it was: cruelty and exclusion. It seems that she brought Jesus up short. It seems that his eyes were opened in that moment, that what he had been taught about Gentiles as less than human dogs wasn’t really the case. Here was not an unworthy dog, but a woman and a child. These also were beloved children of God, and Jesus healed the daughter immediately.
Jesus, who was God, yes, but also fully human with human limitations and frailties had been taught one thing about humanity, that there were undesirable less than humans, and then when he saw one of these undesirable less thans up close, he realized that he had been given a false teaching. This woman, and by extension these Gentiles, were not less than humans, but full humans, beloved of God, who were deserving of love and belonging.
Now, you could say when we exclude others that we’re only human, also following what we’ve been taught. That’s true enough. Even so, when we exclude others from the church, we don’t do so by acting as humans. When we exclude others from the church, we become idolaters, acting as though we were God. It’s God’s church, not ours, so when we start to proclaim who can be a part of God’s church and who cannot, we are moving God out of our way so that we can make God’s church what we want it to be. Putting ourself in God’s place, we end up becoming our own idols, ultimately worshipping ourselves, rather than God.
Who is in, and who is out? Who is worthy, and who is unworthy? By the teaching of various days, the out and unworthy were black people, women, homosexual people, children who made noise or moved, folks without enough money, or folks with the wrong clothes. All of these people have been excluded from the church at various times and places, following accepted norms of the majority at the time, only to have those norms cast out, those idols thrown down, and the people seen no longer as dogs, but as beloved children of God.
What norms, against what people, do we still hold, putting them down as dogs and raising ourselves as idols in God’s place? Who would make any of us personally uncomfortable sitting next to us, or preaching to us, or celebrating at this table? Realizing who those people are, remember that they are not dogs, but God’s beloved children, and we are not God to exclude them or anyone from God’s church.
No longer in charge as gatekeeper, we simply get to enjoy the rich diversity of who God’s children are. Astros and Yankees fans. Rich and poor. LGBTQ+. Cis-gender. Heterosexual. Any and all races and skin colors. American. Immigrant. Children. Adults. Felons. Men and women and all those in between. There is such a rich and beautiful diversity of God’s children, and God’s intention for God’s church and God’s kingdom is for us to enjoy all of each other. We are each others’ family, God’s family. No one of us welcomes another, but we meet each other together, for we all belong here, in God’s church as God’s family.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church August 22, 2021 Proper 16, B Ephesians 6:10-20 John 6:56-69
Spiritual Meals: Jesus, IT, and Other Tasty Treats
I’ve been re-reading IT, a novel by Stephen King about a group of friends from Derry Maine who band together as children and then again as adults to defeat a shapeshifting demon-clown monster thing, called “IT.” IT feeds off of fear and violence, most of which IT perpetrates, though IT also feeds off and seems to help cause greater violence and hatred in the people of the town. IT is most famous for taking the appearance of a clown, and if you haven’t read the book, you may have seen or heard of the miniseries back in the 80s or the recent two part movie series.
Pennywise the dancing clown, IT, is a terrifying villain in this terrifying horror story. IT scared me as an 11 year old, and IT still scares me as a 43 year old. To this day, I quicken my pace walking when past storm drains due to the opening scene in the book.
Even more disturbing than the monster itself, however, is the response of the people of the town to IT. When things get bad, the people generally do what they should: hold curfews, encourage adults to walk children to school, and increase police presence. At the same time, however, there is a general apathy within the town about the presence of IT. None are really aware of IT, and yet all seem to accept the fact of a high rate of murder and violent crime, and they seem largely to take in stride as well the large number of children who are victims.
The town prospers, and the people go about their lives accepting IT as simply the way things are. On the one hand, what else are they supposed to do, not really knowing what is going on? On the other hand, how can they just accept IT as the way things are? See, the people of the town despise IT, and they also feed off of IT in a spiritual kind of way. IT has become so intertwined with the town and the people that IT feeds off of them, and they unknowingly feed off of IT. IT has become their spiritual food.
Like the people in this novel, we too seem to feed in spiritual ways off of the suffering of others. This is not intentional. It’s not what we strive for. It’s simply the inescapable result of a world full of brokenness and conflict.
Consider how companies and people profit off of war: weapons manufacturers and others. I’m not saying the military or weapons makers are bad. At its heart, the military’s goal is to protect the weak and the innocent. Weapons manufacturers help make that possible. At the same time, we can’t escape the fact that part of our wealth comes from the destruction and killing of others. That’s just part of the way things are, and that destruction and killing becomes part of our spiritual food.
Think about how many products we wear or use that are made with overseas, underpaid, and oppressed workers? That becomes not only part of our wardrobe, but part of our spiritual food. How much of our economy depends on the same? How much value is derived off of impoverished and crime ridden areas remaining impoverished and crime ridden so that other areas can have premium pricing as a safer alternative?
How many of us get angry and stay angry at any number of world or community problems that we probably can’t change, but that we can at least get righteously angry about and feel a resulting strength and moral superiority? Anger and contempt, fighting over who is right. Brainless liberal. Heartless conservative. Masks or no masks. The righteous indignation and moral superiority, the anger and contempt are all part of our spiritual food.
In all of these and countless other ways, we are feeding off of the brokenness and conflict in our world. That brokenness and conflict has always been with us and will always be with us. Whether we want it to be or not, the darkness, violence, brokenness, and conflict of our world will always be part of our spiritual food.
In this rather problematic spiritual diet then, Jesus says, “Eat my flesh, and drink my blood.” Eat and drink me as your spiritual food, Jesus says. Feed your spirit off of my spirit. Change your diet.
So, how do we feed less off of brokenness and conflict, anger and contempt, and make our meals of Jesus instead? Well, if we really want the diet to stick and last, then one thing we likely can’t do is make a sudden, drastic, and huge dietary change. If we try to divorce ourselves from everything that is of violence, oppression, and conflict, we are going to find just how interconnected violence, oppression, and conflict is in all we do. We’re not going to make the world perfect, and we’re certainly not going to increase our consumption of Jesus by angrily and contemptuously decrying anything we feel is not of Jesus.
So how do we feed off of Jesus? How do we eat his body and drink his blood? Well, there are countless, infinite ways, including sharing communion here, the spiritual communion, embodied in the meal we share. Other ways to eat Jesus’ body and drink his blood are to take note of each other. Pay attention to each other. Help each other out in fun times together and in rough times together. Stand up for each other. Love each other. Such is the spiritual food of Jesus’ body and blood.
Take time for yourself. Rest. Rely on the Lord and the strength of his power, knowing you can’t get it all done. Have faith and trust in God. Trust in God and in God’s goodness. Trust in your own goodness, being made good and beautiful in the image of God. Trust in God’s love of you and guidance of you. Such is the spiritual food of Jesus’ body and blood.
Strive for justice and peace in how you interact with others, in how you vote. Strive for justice and peace in how you shop, in the things you consume. Seek truth and live in righteousness, meaning live a life seeking good for others and for yourself. Such is the spiritual food of Jesus’ body and blood.
Enjoy the sun, the sky, the grass, the trees, the air. Enjoy the ride. Breath. Breath in the beauty of the moment, even during anxiety, depression, sadness, and fear. Trust in God enough to let go and not have to control everything all the time. Pray. Pray a lot. Make it weird. Such is the spiritual food of the body and blood of Jesus.
We can’t purify ourselves by completely ridding our spiritual diet of any and all darkness, conflict, violence, and oppression. Such things are intertwined within our lives and this world, and there is no ridding ourselves of them. Also, Jesus didn’t say remove from your spiritual diet all things that are objectionable. He knew that wasn’t possible. Instead, Jesus said, “eat my flesh and drink my blood.”
“Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power.” (Ephesians 6:10) Make your spiritual meals of Jesus. Eat Jesus’ spiritual flesh and drink his spiritual blood that you may abide in him, and he in you.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church August 8, 2021 Proper 14, B Ephesians 4:25 - 5:2 John 6:35, 41-51
“These Are the Pale Deaths Which Men Miscall Their Lives”
We aren’t wretched, you know? Paul writes in Ephesians about ways which we want to give up: lying, anger, bitterness, wrath, slander, evil talk, malice, stealing, all of these and more. These ways of being live inside of us. They are a part of us, or maybe they have become a part of us. Perhaps they weren’t there initially and only came to dwell within us as we were hurt and broken throughout our lives. In any case, we have lying, anger, bitterness, wrath, and all of these ways dwelling inside of us.
We are, however, not wretched and terrible. Our truest selves, are kind, tenderhearted, forgiving, loving. We are made in God’s image, and so the beauty of love, forgiveness, tenderheartedness, and kindness is intrinsic to who we are. Those ways of life are our truest selves. We are not wretched. We are beautiful.
Now again, the other ways, bitterness, anger, all of those, are part of us. We may call them our inner demons, and we’ll likely never be rid of them. As much as we may strive for love, forgiveness, and beauty, these darker parts will always come back, rearing their heads. We can fight them, but that’s like fighting fire with fire. We can pretend they aren’t there, but they’ll just gradually take over. Rather than fighting them or denying them, I suggest (as a friend of mine suggested) that we dance with them. Maybe have them over for a meal. Offer them some coffee or tea. Just don’t feed off of them, for they are the things that bring death.
One of my favorite bands, Metallica, has a song called, To Live Is to Die. The short and poignant lyric of this song is, “When a man lies, he murders some part of the world. These are the pale deaths which men miscall their lives. All this I cannot bear to witness any longer. Cannot the kingdom of salvation take me home?” I’m fairly certain I’ve used that quote before in a sermon, though what I didn’t know previously is that the first part of that quote comes from 17th century German, Lutheran theologian and minister Paul Gerhardt. The second half of the lyric comes from Metallica’s former bassist, Cliff Burton.
That is a beautiful blending of sacred and secular by my favorite heavy metal band, and it shows this need that we all have for healing and salvation, from all the pale deaths that we miscall our lives.
Taking these quotes from a Lutheran theologian and a heavy metal bassist, we can apply this lyric to Paul’s writing from Ephesians that we heard today. “When a man [is bitter, angry, wrathful, and all of those other ways of death] he murders some part of the world. These are the pale deaths which men miscall their lives. All this I cannot bear to witness any longer. Cannot the kingdom of salvation take me home?”
These ways Paul writes about truly are the ways of death, and when we feed off of them, we are feeding off the bread of the pale deaths which we miscall our lives. When we live these ways, we murder parts of the world.
Paul writes in Romans 6:23, “the wages of sin is death…” What was the first sin that we hear of in scripture? Garden of Eden, eating the fruit of the tree which God said not to eat. So what was that first sin? Disobedience? Mistrust? Desire for power rather than a good relationship? Bitterness at being told “no”? Stealing what wasn’t theirs to take? Believing and living the serpents’ lie? Which of those was the first sin? Id’ just say “yes,” all of them.
Adam and Eve wanted something good, maybe greater power, maybe to sate their curiosity, maybe just a tasty piece of fruit. In any case, God had said, “You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.” Well, they didn’t exactly die, at least not physically. Their relationship with God, however, took a drastic cardiac arrest kind of turn. Their relationship with each other was deeply harmed. When they ate of the bread of bitterness, mistrust, desire of power over relationship, living a lie, they fed off of the pales deaths which we miscall our lives, and they murdered some part of the world.
“The wages of sin is death,” Paul writes. Now remember, sin does not mean we’re wretched and terrible. Sin is missing the mark: seeking something good, but missing the good we seek and hitting something less good or something harmful instead. These harmful things end up hurting us and others - our relationships are broken. We find these things to bring pale deaths rather than life.
Now again, these harmful ways are a part of us, but they aren’t parts that we need to hate. When these parts of ourselves start speaking up, we dance with them, or have some tea with them. They may have something important to say about ourselves or about the world. When I’m angry about something in the world, there may be something I could do to help make it better. When I’m bitter towards someone, there may be something going on in me that I need to address, or maybe a broken relationship that I need to tend to and work to heal. So we can listen to our anger, and bitterness, etc., over a cup of tea, and we learn what they can teach us about ourselves and the world, but we don’ feed off of them.
Jesus teaches us not to feed off of these pale deaths. Rather, Jesus teaches to eat the bread of life. “I am the living bread that came down from heaven,” Jesus says. “Whoever eats of this bread will live forever…”
“I am,” Jesus says. “I am.” “God is.” Remember that “I am” is the unspeakable name of God. “I am the bread of life.” God is the bread of life. God dwells within all of us, and we are made in God’s image. The bread of life is within us all. Kindness, tenderheartedness, forgiveness, love: these are all aspects of God, aspects of Jesus, the bread of life which dwells within us all.
To eat the bread of life is to feed off our truest selves. When Jesus gave his life, his body, his flesh as the bread of life, we recognize Jesus as someone other than us, a human who lived a couple thousand years ago, a human who is also God. Jesus is that particular God-incarnate man, and he is the particular bread of life. Jesus is also something, someone who is not external to us, not other than us. Jesus is that particular God incarnate man, and Jesus is also our truest selves. We are all one with God, made in God’s image, and Jesus lives within us all, not as something external, but as who we are.
The bread of life is shared and eaten as we reach out to Jesus who is wholly other than us, and the bread is shared and eaten when we feed off of the kindness, tenderheartedness, forgiveness, and love which is our truest selves. The bread of life is part of us. The bread of life dwells within us, and the bread of life dwells among us, in community, in the communion we share.
Rather than feed off the pale deaths which we miscall our lives: bitterness, wrath, anger, lies, murdering some part of the world, and rather than fighting against those things, we dance with them, we invite them for tea. We learn what we can, and we let them go. We aren’t wretched. We aren’t terrible. We are kind. We are tenderhearted. We are forgiving. We are loving. Those are our truest selves, beautiful and wonderful. When we live those truest parts of ourselves, when we feed off of that bread, we’re feeding off the bread of life which is Jesus, and when we feed off that bread, we bring life to the world.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church July 18, 2021 Proper 11, B Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
“Rest, and Let Me Take Care of This for a While”
Is anyone else tired?
One thing people have been finding coming out of the pandemic is that they are exhausted. Part of this is that people are tired from the pandemic itself and all of the stress and extra work that has meant for so many. Another piece of this exhaustion, however, is that many folks have found that the time they spend in in rest and time they spend with family and friends is far too precious to be squandered by the endless demands of our jobs. Folks are realizing that their exhaustion has been there since before the pandemic.
Some folks are finding jobs better suited to them, jobs which are more fulfilling. Some are quitting their jobs without yet having another because they are tired of doing the work that used to be done by three people without getting a corresponding raise in pay. Some jobs just aren’t being filled because at the wages being offered, the jobs aren’t worth people’s time to do. I had an uncle-ish type guy, not family, but close friend, who was arguing that minimum wage shouldn’t go up. He said he’d hired people who weren’t worth minimum wage. What I didn’t say at the time was, “That may be true, but those same people might be worth three times minimum wage,” because minimum wage isn’t worth many people’s time.
People working tirelessly, still struggling to make ends meet. People working tirelessly with more than enough for ends to meet, but with little or no time for the people and things that matter in life. There is so much going on, and there is always more coming.
That is the situation in which Jesus and the apostles found themselves in our Gospel story today. Jesus had been working tirelessly, and then he appointed the twelve disciples to be apostles. He sent them out to do the teaching and healing work he had been doing. I like to think Jesus took a break during that time. Then, they came back to tell Jesus about all that had done and taught, and there was so much still to do, so many people still hungry for their teaching and healing, that the couldn’t even eat, much less spend some time together resting and enjoying each other’s company.
So, going away on a little vacation, they had some time off on their little boat ride, car trip, airplane flight journey, and once they landed, they found work had followed them there. Zoom calls, cell phones, meetings with leaders, questions from the team back home, fires to put out, the boss calling to say, “I need you to come back in.” The only real time off they had was the boat ride, and the people were all there waiting for more teaching and healing.
One thing I noticed, however, is that once they arrived, the apostles weren’t recorded as having done much of anything at all. In the portion of the story that was cut out of our reading today, Jesus was teaching the crowds, and later, the apostles realized the huge crowd of people was hungry, and they told Jesus they didn’t have much food. Then Jesus turned their meager fare into a lot of food for over 5000 people. The apostles kinda got to sit back while Jesus did all the work. Then they went on another boat ride, a nice little nighttime pleasure cruise, and Jesus walked across the water to them.
When they arrived on shore again, there were even more people coming for teaching and healing. At this point, with all of this new additional work to be done, we heard about Jesus doing a lot of healing, with the apostles doing…we don’t know what. Something? Anything? Nothing?
Whatever the case for the apostles, the people just kept on coming. The needs were far too great. There was no end to the work to be done, and amidst this endless amount of work, we saw that Jesus had taken a break before our story started, asking his apostles to go and do the work he had been doing. Then, when they returned, he had his apostles take a break, one which seems to have continued even as the huge crowd was all around them.
“Rest, and let me take care of this for a while,” Jesus said.
Nowadays, whether people are working for a wage that isn’t really worth their time, working for a darn good salary but doing the work of three people for the salary of one, or working for a job that isn’t terrible but is relentless and rather soul crushing, many people can’t quit their jobs. Many can’t take time off, and most certainly can’t say, “I’m gonna take a couple weeks off or even a couple days off, but don’t worry, boss, Jesus’ll take care of this for a while.”
Even so, we see in our story today Jesus teaching us to rest. We hear Jesus say to us, “Rest, and let me take care of this for a while.” How are we to do that in our present situation of endless work, endless need? How are we to rest and let Jesus take care of this for a while when even taking time off a job may put at risk that mighty powerful need we have to eat?
Well, first off, something that won’t be particularly helpful, and that is resenting those with immeasurably more than they need. I’ve seen and heard a good amount of uproar over the head of Virgin Galactic, Richard Branson, taking a flight into space in his new low orbit space plane, when, as people have been saying, he has the money to end poverty. It is true that he and many others have immeasurably more than they need. It is true that with his and their wealth, they could probably be doing more than they are doing to alleviate need in the world. It is also true, however, that they are employing folks, creating jobs, and it is true that focusing on those others and shaming people with wealth and resenting those who have far more than they need isn’t going to bring about the rest that people need.
How often have any of us resented someone who has more wealth or more time for rest and then felt more rested afterwards? I’m guessing never.
There are societal changes that would be helpful, and striving for those is a good thing. Resenting those who can rest, however, is not going to give rest to anyone. Jesus didn’t resent the crowds who followed them. Rather, he had compassion on them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd.
So, rather than resentment and focusing on what others have or what anyone doesn’t have, Jesus shows us to take time to rest in ways that really give rest. He shared the load with others. He let his apostles work while he rested, and he let them rest while he worked. Are we connected enough with our friends and neighbors to let them share our loads and for us to share their loads as well?
Jesus took time for quiet and prayer. He spent time outside, enjoying creation. Do we seek and keep practices of quiet, prayer, and time outside to give rest to our minds, our souls, and our bodies?
For many of us, these times of rest will have to be short and often, and for those of us in Houston during the summer, times outside need to be particularly short, and these are still times we can take. Especially if we can let go of resentments, we can rest more fully even in the short times we have and let Jesus say, “Rest, and let me take care of this for a while.” Bothered and harassed by so many worries about problems throughout the world, we can let go of those worries and let Jesus say, “Rest, and let me take care of this for a while.” Seeking and keeping practices of quiet, prayer, and even time outside, we can give rest to our minds, our souls, and our bodies while Jesus says, “Rest, and let me take care of this for a while.”
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church July 11, 2021 Proper 10, B Mark 6:14-29
Filling the Hollows of Our Lives
Paul wrote in Ephesians that we have an inheritance in Christ as God’s children, God’s beloved people. That inheritance is living God’s kingdom of love, united to God and to one another in this life and in the life to come.
Paul went on to write, that we could squander our inheritance, removing ourselves as God’s children. “Entirely out of place”, Paul wrote, “is obscene, silly, and vulgar talk; but instead, let there be thanksgiving. Be sure of this, that no fornicator or impure person, or one who is greedy (that is, an idolater), has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.” (Ephesians 5:4-5)
That’s what we saw with Herod when he had John the Baptist killed. Herod was king of Israel, a puppet king propped up by Rome, but still king of Israel. He had power and authority to build up the kingdom of God within Israel. He could have led the people to live in love, to care for one another, to “put away…all bitterness and wrath…slander and malice, and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another…” (Ephesians 4:31-32) That would have been living the inheritance of the kingdom of God. Instead of living the kingdom of God and guiding the people of Israel into the same, however, Herod used his power and authority, to enrich and glorify himself.
He had John imprisoned for speaking the truth to him about his actions, and at the same time, he was drawn to John. He was drawn to the kingdom of God which John preached and taught people to live, but he would’t then follow John and live the kingdom of God himself. For him, with much potentially to lose, the sacrifice was too great.
If he didn’t continue to enrich himself, would those with wealth look at him as less powerful, less important than they? If he chose to do the right thing, at John’s urging, would he look weak in the eyes of his courtiers and officers? If he broke his oath after his silly and vulgar talk to his step-daughter, would he appear foolish and lose some of his credibility? Money, power, influence: these were all Herod’s to lose, and wanting to keep those things, he executed an innocent man, a man whom he admired, a man who was leading him to the Kingdom of God.
Herod had the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of Love, right there to be received and to be grown and spread to others, leading others to the same Kingdom of Love, and instead, he squandered God’s kingdom, squandered his inheritance in money, power, and influence.
Squandering his inheritance, Herod reminds me of a man in a parable Jesus taught, the parable of the prodigal son. In the parable, a son demands his inheritance from his father, receives his inheritance, and then squanders it all in raucous and extravagant living. Once the money is all gone, he finds himself starving and alone, feeding pigs on someone else’s land, wishing he could eat even the slop he is feeding the pigs.
Herod is like that prodigal son, having received his inheritance and then squandering it completely. Herod had wealth, power, and influence, but the Kingdom of God was nowhere to be seen in his life. As far as joining with God in a life of love, grace, and mercy, using what he had to bring about justice and peace among the people, Herod was as poor and alone as the prodigal son, starving and penniless, wishing he could eat even the pig slop.
Of course, the story of the prodigal son does not end there. The son eventually wakes up, realizing he is starving and miserable, and he returns to his father ready to work as a hired servant, knowing that at least he will have food and shelter. Then, while he is still a ways off, his father sees him coming home and he runs out to greet him, restoring his as his beloved son, overjoyed that he is back, alive and well.
That’s God’s way. When we squander our inheritance and live selfish lives, unconcerned with others, leaving hurt and harm in our wake, we may eventually realize that we are starving for a life of love, grace, and mercy. When we realize that we are starving, and we begin to return to God’s kingdom of love, God runs out to us with open arms, strengthening us and guiding us back into our inheritance, living the Kingdom of love.
The challenge for Herod was he never realized he was starving. He had his wealth, his power, his influence. He had his courtiers and officials all suckling up to him, and so he was able to remain blind to the damage left in his wake. He thought he had arrived, thought he had it all, but he was hollow on the inside, a puppet, not just of Rome, but also a puppet to all of his cravings, led by his desires for money, power, and influence. As a puppet mastered by his cravings, Herod lived outside of the Kingdom of God, squandering his inheritance.
Of course, living the Kingdom of God is rarely as simple as you either are or you aren’t. Most of us are living our inheritance in God’s kingdom of love except when we’re not. So, my question today is, what is keeping us from living more fully into God’s kingdom of love? What fills the hollows of our lives, controlling us as puppets? For some, like Herod, it may be money, power, and influence that we are afraid to risk losing. I don’t mean to imply that any of us have people beheaded over it, but for some, money, power, and influence may master us, keeping us from decisions, actions, or beliefs which would risk our money, power, and influence for the sake of others’ well being.
For some of us, our past hurts may be mastering us, keeping us from living more fully into God’s kingdom of love. All of us are hurting in some way and we end up building walls and defenses just trying to be ok. Sometimes those very defenses end up taking over, harming us and others, and we miss out on God’s kingdom of love.
There are many things which can end up mastering us, taking over the hollows of our lives and controlling us as puppets. God’s response is to help wake us up to realize the ways we are being mastered, like Herod. God’s response is to help us become aware of the ways we are starving, squandering our inheritance like the prodigal son. God’s response is then to guide us back to our inheritance, to let go our fears, and to let God guide us into his Kingdom of love.
God’s way is to offer to fill the hollows of our lives so that we are not puppets led by our fears and desires, but are instead walking together with God and one another. That is life in God’s kingdom, as Paul writes to, “put away…all bitterness and wrath…slander and malice, and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven [us].” Even when we squander our inheritance through fear and desire leaving ourselves hollow and hungry, in God’s kingdom, there is inheritance still waiting for us when we wake up and return and strive again to live in the way of love.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church June 20, 2021 Proper 7, B Job 38:1-11 2 Corinthians 6:1-13 Mark 4:35-41
A Mystery Beyond My Comprehension, and That’s Enough For Me
I don’t remember the first time I heard the story of Jesus sleeping through a terrible wind storm at sea and then silencing the storm with a word, but I imagine it went something like this. I heard the story and then went, “Wow, how’d he do that?” “Well,” I was told, “Jesus is God.” “Oh, ok.” See I was never all that amazed by Jesus’ miracles. Not that his miracles weren’t amazing, but starting from a place of believing Jesus is God, it seemed totally natural that Jesus could control the weather, heal people, multiply food. Jesus, being God made all of this, everything, “laid the foundation of the earth…when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy,” so of course he could do anything at all. So, going from that belief about Jesus and then hearing that Jesus could control the weather with a word, I figured, “Well yeah, of course he can.”
For the disciples, on the other hand, Jesus’ controlling the weather was rather mind blowing. “Who then is this,” they asked, “that even the wind and the sea obey him?” Rather than starting from a place of believing Jesus to be God, they were gradually coming to know who Jesus was, and they had barely scratched the surface. Like Job, when God said of him, “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?”, the disciples, though they knew Jesus well, were also realizing the enormous depths they had not even begun to plumb.
We’re like this with everyone we know. My brother, Kevin, and I are identical twins. We share the same DNA, and we grew up together, so we are very close and know each other very well. Still, if we plumb the depths long enough, we get to places I don’t know and he doesn’t know. We begin darkening counsel by words without wisdom. We can know people our entire lives and still be surprised by them. There are always greater depths we can plumb, new awareness and understandings of each other to discover.
Being that that is the case for our knowledge of other human beings, we have to admit our knowledge and understanding of God is greatly limited. God is known and has been revealed to us, and God is a mystery. Whenever we try to define God too much, we end up with God’s response to Job, “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” We think we know God. We sometimes construct rather tight models of God and have rules around how and who and what God is, and then something happens that we can’t fit into our God understanding box, and our tightly constructed models of God come crashing down. Far from a disaster, what that means is we get to plumb the depths of God even more fully. When our understandings of God prove insufficient, we get to be the disciples in the boat with Jesus, wondering, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”
As I said at the beginning, as a child simply hearing, “Jesus is God,” was enough for me to say, “Oh, ok,” to the question of how Jesus could control the weather with a word. Of course he could, he was God. Through further decades of study and plumbing the depths, I’ve barely scratched the surface of much anything more, though I have brought about a lot of helpful questioning and come to a greater heart knowledge of who Jesus is. God is still a vast mystery and yet I have come to experience God as goodness and love, healing and freedom.
I believe we are called to accept and embrace the mystery of God, and to be content with what we can say we know. God is love. Sounds simple enough, but what force or action on earth has greater depth and mystery than love? God is good. We don’t always know what that means, but we can trust in God’s goodness and give up some of our need for and illusion of control at all times.
Here’s what I know personally: when I spend time in prayer and meditation, seeking God’s will, and setting aside my efforts at control, I find peace and unity with people and within myself that I don’t otherwise find. Who is this that brings such peace and unity to life and relationships? God, whom I don’t fully know, and that’s enough for me.
Accepting some knowledge of God as well as great mystery of God, I get to see God all around, in the beauty of creation: in the earth, the skies, the trees, the wind, the water. Seeing God everywhere in the earth brings greater awe for all that is around me, greater respect, and a desire to honor the earth in how I live.
Seeing God in others helps me to see each person’s beauty and to want to give them respect and to honor them in how I live. We see in Jesus’ teachings and actions, that such is his desire for us.
I don’t understand how all of that works, but I accept it as true because it is beautiful and because the fruits of that belief are greater peace, love, and honor towards others and to the earth. Accepting some of these mysteries of God brings the very love, healing, and freedom which I believe God to be.
Looking at another mystery of God, how can Jesus be fully human and fully God? How is it that Jesus could calm a storm with a word? Well, on the one hand, what can’t God do? On the other hand, how exactly does that work, God being everywhere and also that one person? I don’t know. I don’t need to fully understand it. I don’t need to understand how God was specifically there in the human being, Jesus, while also being fully present as the Holy Trinity in the heavenly places, while also being in and through all creation in the known universe and beyond.
I don’t need to fully understand how we are both here living finite, mortal lives on this earth and we are at the same time alive with God in the heavenly places fully united to one another in Christ. Paul writes about that in his letter to the Ephesians, and I don’t know how that works. On this Father’s Day, however, I think about my dad who died six years ago. I still miss him, and I also have joy because I believe that like Paul wrote, I’m not only waiting here on earth to be with my Dad again; I’m already with him in the heavenly places. Now that’s a mystery of God beyond my comprehension, but I don’t have to understand it. I believe it, and that’s enough for me.
How does connecting with God through prayer and meditation, connecting with God through people, connecting with God through nature, how does any of that bring love, healing, and freedom? How are we both here and with God in the heavenly places all at the same time? How does all that work? How does God make all that happen? Well, I’ve got the same answer as my parents had for me when I was a kid asking, “How did Jesus calm a storm?” He’s God. Then I can figure, “Oh, ok. Goodness, love, healing, freedom, of course God can do all that.”
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church June 6, 2021 Proper 5, B Genesis 3:8-15 Mark 3:20-35
“You Can’t Fight in Here. This Is the War Room.”
Strange as it may sound, today’s Gospel reading made me think of a scene from the movie Dr. Strangelove, where The U.S. President, and a Russian Ambassador, and the top U.S. General are all trying to avert nuclear armageddon when the general and the Russian ambassador start fighting, and the President shouts at them, “Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here! This is the war room!” That reminds me of our Gospel story today as I hear the scribes saying to Jesus with similar irony, “Jesus please, you can’t heal people here, we’re doing God’s work!”
How could they think healing people was bad? How could they think casting out demons was bad?
Well, healing and casting out demons wasn’t necessarily bad in and of itself, of course, but what if Jesus was turning people to trust in him, rather than in the religious system? What if, even worse, Jesus was teaching something different about God than they were, and was therefore, of course, teaching something terribly, terribly wrong about God?
That, we understand. Think of a new pastor at a new growing congregation. It’s not a church like the established churches are used to, and even some of those established church’s members are going to that new church. They are on fire, they are serving within the community in ways the established churches haven’t been doing for decades, and the established churches are all threatened by this new congregation. They don’t like the pastor. He’s doing things wrong, the church services are weird, and they feel threatened by them doing really well and doing things differently than what they know to be the right way. “Oh sure, they’re doing good work there, but “Yeah, you’re right…they still pray weird.”
We get that. We understand the scribes feeling threatened by Jesus, thinking he was leading the people down a wrong path, in spite of his healing and casting out demons. So what did they do? They demonized Jesus, saying he was doing demonic work casting out demons. It didn’t make much sense then either.
Jesus was fighting a spiritual battle against demons and cosmic powers, against spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places (I grabbed that from Ephesians). To be fair, it wasn’t much of a fight against the demons. Jesus was like One Punch Man, but still, seeing this, the scribes chose to fight with him about it, who was right and who was wrong, and Jesus’ response was basically, “Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here. This is the war room.” Jesus was saying, “I’m fighting a war against demons,” (which was again pretty easy for him “Get out of there, demon!” “Ok.”) and the scribes were fighting with him about that? That was the difficult battle, people working against healing and love because they don’t agree with the person who is doing it or the methods they use.
That is still the difficulty we have today. We understand how crazy it is for the scribes to fight against Jesus when he was casting out demons and healing people. We understand how crazy it is for our church or any church to rally against another church when we see them doing good, healing ministry with the community…even if they pray weird, but when that church is ministering with the wrong kinds of people, or letting the wrong kinds of people be ministers, what then?
They’re still doing great works within the community, still healing and working with people to transform their lives, but it’s just the wrong kind of people doing the ministry? What if it’s staunch conservatives doing the ministry? What if it’s flaming liberals doing the ministry? What if the ministers are people whose beliefs and ideologies not only go against my beliefs and ideologies, but go against who I am as a person?
I don’t have a clear cut answer on this one, however, I will say this about our beliefs and ideologies. The scribes had beliefs and ideologies which led them to discount some people as unworthy of being a full part of their community, of their world. The scribes were concerned with purity and people being religiously correct enough to be acceptable for God.
Jesus, not so much. Jesus was concerned with people causing actual harm to one another. Are you being clean and pure? Jesus didn’t seem to ask that. Are you causing actual harm to someone else? That’s what Jesus seemed interested in. Are you excluding people you deem unworthy or impure? Are you keeping for yourself far more than you need while others struggle just to have enough? Are you so certain of your own righteousness that you tear others down, condemning them, rather than choosing to love them and take the risk of being wrong as you see God working in their lives too? That seems the way of Jesus in his spiritual battles, in his war room.
Yes, there is a war room, even for Jesus, but as Paul wrote in Ephesians 6, “…our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:10-12). Jesus was certainly against these spiritual forces of darkness, against these spiritual forces of darkness as they manifest in people. We don’t read too much, however, of Jesus being against people themselves. He wasn’t out there stirring up hatred and division, shouting about the folks people should be against. He warned his disciples privately against the teachings against some of those rather less than helpful leaders, but his focus was not to turn people against each other.
Jesus’ focus was on healing people, bringing people together, showing love, offering grace, living forgiveness. That was Jesus’ way. Healing, communion, love, grace, forgiveness, that was Jesus way, even when fighting spiritual battles for and along side folks whom others felt were the wrong sorts of folks. Healing, communion, love, grace, forgiveness, that was how Jesus fought spiritual battles in his war room, and strange as it may sound, there’s no fighting in the war room. At least there’s no fighting in Jesus’ war room. There’s striving against spiritual forces of darkness, and those battles are fought with healing and communion, with grace, and love, and forgiveness.
Paul wrote of Jesus as sitting at the right hand of God in the heavenly places (where these other gods dwelt), and Paul wrote the church as the body of Christ, dwelling as Christ’s body with God in the heavenly places right now, so that we are both here on earth living out our mortal lives and at the same time we are in the heavenly places joined together as Jesus’ body.
Paul went on to say that we are joined together with Jesus as part of God’s revelation, that we are in the heavenly places revealing even to the gods or heavenly beings, the the unity that God has in mind for all of humanity. No more tribalism and no more tribal gods. One people living in unity.
When Israel was complaining in the desert that they were going to die of hunger in the desert because they didn't like the food God daily provided for them, God sent serpents among them. Then God had Moses set up a bronze serpent for the people to look upon when they were bitten, and be healed. Now, this bronze serpent was not like Medusa in reverse. It wasn’t magic, as though if it happened to cross into someone’s line of sight, suddenly they were all better. It wasn’t an idol or a god to bring healing. The bronze serpent worked as people looked upon it and realized, “That’s what I’ve become. I’ve become as the father of lies, trusting my own anxiety and Lizard Brain rather that trusting in God who has freed us and kept us safe.” They would look upon the bronze serpent with true repentance, let Lizard Brain quiet down for a few moments, and the serpent would kill the lizard. That’s a big part of religion and religious practices, to help us silence Lizard Brain and return to trust in God and peace in our hearts. See when we’re fully freaked out, thinking, “We don’t like this food; we’re going to die,” and Lizard Brain is in control, our thoughts and beliefs aren’t usually enough to bring us back to trust and peace because the thinking parts of our brains are shut down when Lizard Brain is in control. We need more than thoughts and belief when Lizard Brain takes over, we need actions, we need habits, we need a bronze serpent, so to speak, to kill the lizard. Thus we have habits and practices of prayer and meditation, of scripture reading, of silence and breathing, of daily turning our lives and wills over to God, and daily taking stock to see how we did and where we might need to seek correction or reconciliation.
So as we have this season of joy to seek further release from our various prisons, in what prison do you find yourself? Fear? Anger? Scarcity? Jealousy? Feelings of discontent and raging against aspect of society that you just can’t abide? All of these and more are the prisons we find ourselves in, and with Jesus’ help, we can be freed from all of them. Turning to Jesus every morning in prayer, specifically asking Jesus to free us from our particular prisons. Spending time each day in meditation to calm our minds and bodies and to give those things which imprison us over to God. Spending time talking with others, trusted friends or small groups within our church about our prisons and the release we need and the release we have experienced. Spending time each day with scripture, trusting and getting to know Jesus ever more fully as the one who frees us from our prisons, the one who proclaimed that the kingdom of God has come near.
Remember then also that Jesus’ message of freedom and release from prison is not only an individual message.
In what prisons do we find ourselves in our society? Prisons of injustice, the wealthy and seemingly important given passes for crimes while many of the poor and marginalized are given heavy sentences. Prisons of poverty which trap people who work full time for low wages in order to live in poverty. Prisons of political discourse so heated and polemical that people are losing their minds. People are becoming so enraged with political discourse that they will fight, with words, with fists, with guns, even to the death in order to stop those on the other side of the political discourse.
Our faith in God, our life with God was embodied in Jesus, and any faith or belief in Jesus that does not deeply and richly involve our bodies in this life is a heretical faith and belief in Jesus.
After healing people all night, Jesus got up early the next morning to go pray, and when his disciples found him, he said, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” The message he proclaimed in their synagogues included healing people and casting out demons.
If we want to evangelize, if we want to proclaim our faith, then our ministry will include and even be defined by a ministry of healing. Jesus’ ministry is a ministry of physical healing. Jesus’ ministry is societal healing. Jesus’ ministry is working for justice. Jesus’ ministry is “dealing with the issues that hurt the poor, the brokenhearted, the sick, the left out, the least of these, the stranger, and all of those who are made to feel unacceptable,” for if it is of healing, it is of Jesus.
Jesus’ words were a call to see the holy ground all around, to see every common bush afire with heaven. Jesus’ words were a call to see every person around as a beloved child of God. Sinners, saints, outcasts, and rulers, all beloved children of God. Those who were willing to see had their lives changed by Jesus’ invitation to live God’s kingdom, already present, into existence.
I caught the end of Amanda Gorman’s inauguration poem, and I was struck by the invitation she gave. It was for me an invitation to live God’s kingdom. She said:
When day comes we step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid The new dawn blooms as we free it For there is always light, if only we're brave enough to see it If only we're brave enough to be it
Powerful words of hope and good news. See the light. Be the light. It is near. Now make it so. Jesus’ words were powerful words that the kingdom of God has come near. Then he and his friends made it so. Jesus’ words of hope and good news are here for us too, to hear, believe, and to let that belief be real enough to change our lives.
“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near;” “if only we're brave enough to see it If only we're brave enough to be it.”
A couple thousand years ago, Jesus was born to set us free. The Creator of the Universe became a human being in human flesh and walked among us. Even with that great coming of Jesus, the light of God living with us in the world, we still lose our way and get trapped by the darkness, and so into that darkness, God continues to give little epiphanies, to show us the light once again and to set us free.
Repentance means that with that hope and mercy, we then get to reckon with those worst parts of ourselves. We have to reckon with the worst of ourselves because we can’t be free of those things, free of the worst parts of ourselves, if we don’t bring them with us when we come seeking mercy and redemption. When we do bring those worst parts of ourselves with us on our journey of repentance, then we find God saying, those worst parts of you are grass. “The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it.”
As our king, Jesus wants us to see the importance of people all around us and seek to walk to the path of the righteous one, shepherding one another, caring for each other, and lifting each other up. That’s life in God’s kingdom. Not with God as an angry hitman, and not with God as a king who, quite apart from all of us, tells us we better be pure enough, or good enough, or religious enough for his liking. In Jesus’ kingdom, when we don’t treat each other as we want to be treated, that’s when we are blaspheming God.
A mother gave her daughter a soothing bath when she came home from school angry, frustrated, shouting, and in tears. Now that was a loving response. She saw her daughter hurting. Past the tears, anger, and probable shouting and disrespect, this mother saw her daughter in desperate need of some soothing, some love, and some being cared for. Past some possible misdeeds, this mother saw a cry of hurt and brokenness, a loving response.
This particular loving response, however, is not some a new law. We’re not just going to start drawing baths for each other anytime someone is upset, rude, or disrespectful. For one thing, not all of us are going to have fresh baked cookies and bath bombs on hand, every time we see someone stressed out and in need of some soothing, and for another thing there are a whole lot of us for whom the bubble Frank Sinatra cookie bath would not be a pleasant, soothing treat. The bath was given because this mother saw a cry of hurt and brokenness, a loving response, not a law.
What do we give to God? Everything. I don’t mean that we should give God everything or we aught to give God everything. I mean, whether intended or not, we give God everything.
The kindnesses we give to the people we know and love, and the kindnesses we give to the people we hardly know are given to God. Similarly, the hurt, contempt, and indifference we give to the people we know and love are given to God, and the hurt, contempt, and indifference we give to the people we hardly know are given to God. Our votes even are given to God, and I daresay most of us are doing are darnedest to vote in a way that honors God’s kingdom, even when we vote differently from each other. So, don’t let anyone tell you that vote goes against God’s kingdom or God’s way just because you vote differently than they do. Do contemplate seriously how your vote does or does not follow the ways of God’s kingdom; realize also that by “God’s Kingdom,” I don’t mean particular religion or religious practice. By God’s kingdom, I mean the beauty, light, and love of everything that is. Everything we do is giving to God’s kingdom.
This story is not about an either/or, in-group/out-group, one side over another conflict in which we get to declare “Jesus good" and “chief priest and elders bad.” Both sides in this conflict brought some to follow more closely the will of God. The deeper music was not whose religious practices were best. The deeper music was the seeking of God, the seeking of justice, peace, and love that pervaded both religious practices. The deeper music of justice, peace, and love is made by all of us together, every voice important: yours, mine, those we love, those we struggle to love. The deeper music is God’s presence, God’s way, and God’s will of justice, peace, and love which runs through all of us, every person a part of each others’ song.
As much vengeance as there is in the world, that is how much we are to forgive. In doing so, we unburden ourselves. The cloak of anger and resentment loosens its grip, until we can eventually let that heavy cloak fall to the ground and be clothed instead with the cloak of light, the cloak forgiveness, healing, and love.
Who do we say Jesus is? Is Jesus the one who makes us perfect so that we can be around other perfect people? Nah. That’s not who Jesus is, and that’s not what the church is. The church is the broken, the beaten, the blessed, and the damned, people who need healing, gathering together for strength and support. The church is people who are imperfectly following Jesus and receiving his love and grace, to be healed and blessed in order to bless others.
Let the weeds grow along with the wheat, Jesus said, so that we don’t all get damaged by pulling the weeds out. Imagine if everyone who wanted to pull the weeds out of society or out of the church was able to do so. There wouldn’t be any wheat left. Everyone would be pulled up and cast out because everyone is a weed in someone’s eyes. So, Jesus said to let them grow together, and leave the weeding to God at the end of the age.
We’re God’s garden after all, and rather than leave the weeding to us who are tossed about by our emotions and our brokenness, we leave the weeding to God who is not only loving, but who is love itself. I can trust love to do the weeding. There are parts in me that need to be weeded out. There are parts in all of us that need weeding. There are certainly parts of society that need weeding, so we leave the weeding to God who is love, and we follow in the way of Love, focusing on loving and blessing, rather than constantly fighting against others.
We’ve all got weeds within us. We are also all wheat. God, who is loving and who is love itself will sort that all out. We are not weed pullers; that is not our religion. As disciples of Jesus, (and quoting Ziggy Marley), “love is [our] religion.” Our place is to love one another, both the weeds and the wheat, and to grow together in the Way of Jesus, the Way of Love.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Emmanuel Episcopal Church June 7, 2020 Trinity Sunday, A Genesis 1:1 - 2:4a 2 Corinthians 13:11-13 Matthew 28:16-20
Some of you have heard before a story I told of a former youth, now a young woman, who told me that all I do is talk for a living. She was joking around, at least kind of joking, and during times like this past week, I kind of feel like that is all I do, is talk for a living. When I see people being killed; see the violence in our streets; see hundreds of years of racism, of overt and covert oppression, and of mistrust throughout our society because of it, I want to do more than just talk. I want to make some kind of lasting change and difference in the lives of people directly affected by the racism, violence, and mistrust, and I want to make that change quickly and right now, but I can’t. Not alone, not immediately.
So, being that I can’t make some enormous, immediate change for the good, I figure I will go ahead and spend a few minutes talking, and I am going to talk about grace, love, and communion with the hope that these words will also address the racism, violence, and mistrust that we have all been witness to over the last week, months, years, and lifetimes.
The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all. That is how Paul ended his second letter to the Corinthian church. With all else he had written them, addressing the good, the bad, the joys, and the strife, he left them with grace, love, and communion.
Grace: Compassion and understanding, true forgiveness, healing, and reconciliation, and the new life and beginning that comes with that healing. Love: Choosing to see others as beloved, to act accordingly, to give up one’s own will and way in order to be of service to others out of true caring for them. Communion - Sharing that love and grace together; living and striving together through joy and sorrow, beauty and pain.
Grace, love, and communion is the way of relationship, the very image of God in whose image we were made. We call God, “Trinity,” the three persons of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit bound up together so completely in love that they are one. Now today, on Trinity Sunday, we could go on and on, round and round about definitions of the Trinity, but I find overly defining God to be rather tedious and kinda boring. Like reading about a definition of a guitar rather than playing a guitar, I’d rather play with the Trinity a little bit instead of just define it.
Three persons bound together in love, God being relationship itself, I imagine conversations between the persons of the Trinity, conversations among God, each person of the Trinity contributing to the wisdom of the one whole God. I wonder, then if God might have limited each person of Godself so that the three persons of God had to be in communion with one another to have all knowledge and wisdom. God choosing that among Godself in order to fulfill relationship.
I like that idea as I imagine some of the conversations God might have had as I see changes in God’s desires and actions throughout scripture. Looking at ancient Israel and God’s command for animal sacrifice, we see that very command change throughout scripture. I imagine a conversation beginning with God the Father. “Well, we need some sort of animal sacrifice to keep the people focused on us.” “Dad, no we don’t. True worship is doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with us.” “Boys, would you two stop arguing? Animal sacrifice is kinda how the humans do things. We can have them use it to focus on us for a while, and we’ll teach them justice, mercy, love, and humility as they go.”
Three persons united as one God, striving together for the sake of creation and for the sake of Godself. Wrestling together, dancing together with grace, love, and communion. That is the way of God as Trinity in whose image we are made.
As much as I want to just go and fix stuff immediately by myself, that doesn’t even seem to be how God chooses to work. Even if I could, I would just be imposing my will on others, denying them grace, denying them love, and certainly denying any communion between us.
If we’re going to fix anything in our lives and in the world, we need to do it together, striving together with grace, love, and communion. That means striving together with those whose views we find awful and crazy and striving together with those whom we believe see us as awful and crazy. Each one of us is limited in our knowledge, experience, and understanding. We need one another to find ways forward that don’t just impose one group’s or person’s will on others. That’s how we get riots and police brutality.
Striving together with grace, love, and communion means listening deeply to the differing sides, listening especially to ways we are called up short. After all, we cannot remove the speck in another’s eye without first removing the log from our own eye.
Part of my personal log removal is reading, Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad. The understandings of white privilege and systemic racism which for yeas I refused to believe in, I am finally coming to understand and accept by listening to and learning from a black muslim woman. I need her wisdom and experience because I am limited in my understanding and experience. Listening to her and coming to accept the ideas of white privilege doesn’t mean suddenly believing that I am the bad guy, and that’s not what she’s saying. Choosing to accept the ideas of white privilege and systemic racism and choosing to accept that I have a part in that does mean that I am choosing love, grace, and communion with those whose beliefs I found threatening. Doing so isn’t particularly comfortable, and there is pain in the wrestling and striving, but I have also found divinity there.
Striving for justice and mercy, walking humbly with God and one another requires more than just talking. It requires listening, and it requires work. It requires striving together with grace, love, and communion in order to work together for change, for justice. That’s the way of God in the world, walking with us in grace, love, and communion, and as God walks with us in the world, God looks around and says, “This place is beautiful, fantastic!” God also says, “This place is also terrible and tragic.” Then, God also says, “Yes, and even now, we’re redeeming this place.”
We’re united, one in God, one in Jesus, one in love. We are all one in our need to be set free from burdens that oppress us, and we are all one in finding salvation, finding freedom from those burdens through Jesus, casting our burdens upon him and turning our wills and our lives over to him. No other issue or belief is greater than that.
The freedom that Jesus gives, freedom from whatever binds us? No other belief or issue should cause us to be divided into camps or factions, not when we all get to be ministers of Jesus’ freedom from bondage. We’re a diverse bunch of folks, with all sorts of political beliefs and backgrounds, cultures, and ideologies, and that’s just within Emmanuel. Worldwide, we’re an extremely varied group of people, but we’re not baptized into any of those political beliefs, backgrounds, cultures, or ideologies. We’re baptized into Jesus, into the freedom from bondage that he gives, and we are all ministers of that freedom, all ministers of Jesus.
Brad Sullivan Proper 14, Year C August 11, 2019 Emmanuel, Houston Luke 12:32-40 Dance With the Demons
“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” We live with quite a lot of fear, don’t we? Fears of all kinds and varieties. Economic insecurity, health issues. Fear of loss. We have fears of violence, fears of natural disasters destroying what we have. We have fears of the other political party gaining power (whichever political party that is for each of us). We also have fears of not being good enough, worthy enough. Fears that someone might find out the truth about us. We have fears of what the world will be like for our children and grandchildren.
These fears keep us striving against each other, trying to overcome each other, trying to make sure that if the world is not going to be ok, at least those I love and I will be ok. In the midst of these fears, Jesus says, “Do not be afraid little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” It seems that our fears are nothing new, but they are the same fears which have been with humanity forever, and Jesus repeats what God has said throughout scripture, “Do not be afraid.” Rather than overcome each other, let go of your fears and live in love toward each other. “Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
Live in love with each other, and trust each other. For economic security, trust not only in yourself but also in those your love, your community and neighbors. Give to others in their time of need, trusting that they will give to you in your time of need. Rather than overcoming each other, we live for and with each other. That is life in the kingdom of God, and it is the Father’s good pleasure to give us the kingdom.
Lutheran Pastor David Lose writes: I think the call – or at least one of the primary calls – of the church today is to become a place where people are so rooted in the promise of God’s good pleasure, reminded of their identity as God’s beloved children, and affirmed in their inherent self-worth and dignity, that they can, indeed, see all those around them as similarly beloved and deserving of self-worth, dignity, and God’s good pleasure. The question for a Christian..[is] discovering that as we give ourselves away in relationship and service we find a deeper sense of self than we’d imagined possible. We are born for community and find a sense of self and meaning and purpose as we trust God’s promises and give ourselves away in love.”
Give ourselves away in love. That’s not an easy thing to do when we’re afraid of ourselves and those around us. Our inner demons often keep us from giving ourselves away in love. A friend of mine, Steve White, recently wrote, “Perhaps it isn’t actually about overcoming all your inner demons. Maybe it’s about learning how to dance with them.” That speaks to me not only of the fears we have about ourselves, but also the fears we have about each other. What if we don’t need to fight against and overcome our inner demons, but rather learn to dance with them, to accept them as a part of who we are. What if we also don’t need to fight against and overcome each other, but rather learn to dance with each other, to give ourselves away in love, to offer ourselves daily to God and join with each other in God’s divine dance, turning even our scars into something beautiful. That’s life in God’s kingdom, and it is the Father’s good pleasure to give us the kingdom.
Fearing each other, we end up scattered and fragmented, continually knowing that we don’t belong. We have folks who have felt like they can’t or don’t belong to the church because of their political beliefs. I know I’ve made people feel this way at times, as have other church leaders, church members, and congregations. The thing about our political views is, most people I know, on both sides of the political spectrum want the same thing: a just society which brings about the best way of life for the most number of people. Their difference is simply the ways and the roles they believe the government should have in bringing about a just society. They both have their religious beliefs tied up into that, and folks on both sides of the aisle believe in Jesus’ teachings about the kingdom of God.
Here’s the secret: The government has little or nothing to do with bringing about God’s kingdom, even though it is the tool some would use to try. God’s kingdom is given through God in partnership with us, with our living into God’s kingdom, and there is room in God’s kingdom for all of us. All of us belong in God’s kingdom, and so we need not overcome each other, but learn to dance with each other, to give ourselves away in love.
Rather than fearing that the other side may win, can we at least realize the while the other side may be wrong, it is still striving for the best system for the good of the most people? Can we accept the consequences if it turns out our fears were right? Can we trust in each other, rather than feeling threatened by each other? Cane felt threatened by Abel, and so he killed him. We hear of folks and have experience feeling threatened by each other and each others’ beliefs, so we attack each other verbally, sometimes physically, deriding each other, feeling that they want to destroy all that is good in our society, our country, and our world.
"Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit,” Jesus taught, so that he will find you not asleep, but alert and ready. Our fears and the ways we seek to overcome each other, feeling threatened by each other, are ways that we fall asleep. We fall asleep to God’s kingdom and are alert only to our fears, to our inner demons. We all have inner demons. Our families have inner demons. The church has inner demons. Our cities, our state, and our nation have inner demons. Keeping alert, staying awake and being alert is about not overcoming and striving against our inner demons and each other, but rather learning to dance together.
If we learn to dance together, we may find that we are not asleep when the master of the house or the thief comes. Whenever Jesus shows up in our lives (and it happens all the time), how wonderful if he finds us not trying to overcome each other, but instead learning to dance with each other, giving ourselves away in love. Over time, we learn how each other moves and thinks. We still step on each others’ toes, but we laugh about it.
Living into God’s kingdom, us giving of our abundance when folks are in need, receiving from others’ abundance when we are in need; living in that kingdom, we can live without fear of the other. We can offer ourselves in love, and learn to dance together. “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”
Brad Sullivan The Epiphany, Year C January 6, 2019 Emmanuel, Houston Isaiah 60:1-6 Matthew 2:1-12
Flawed Dreams and Unexpected Love
Happy Epiphany y’all. Christmas ended yesterday, and the joy of Christmas now continues on in the Epiphany, the revelation of Jesus, of the God-baby to the nations through the Magi, and if I’m being honest, I feel the joy of Christmas continued on into Epiphany, and at the same time, I’m having a hard time feeling the joy right now. Over the first five to six days of Christmas, I really got to feel the joy of Christmas and let everything else fade into the background. I was at Camp Allen with my family on a clergy family retreat the weekend after Christmas, and other clergy were concerned about Emmanuel after Andy’s death, and they kept asking me, “How are you?”, not just to say “hi” but actually wondering how I was, with the knowing expression in their voices, expecting a sad response.
My answer shocked several folks because I said, “I’m doing great.” One friend seemed a little confused by my answer and said, “I’m sorry, I thought you were working with Andy at Emmanuel.” “No,” I told him, “I was, I am. It’s just that for right now, I’m enjoying time with my family. For right now, it’s a great Christmas and I get to just be with my family through New Year’s. For right now,” I told him, “Andy hasn’t died. When I get back, he’ll have died again, and I’ll begin mourning again.” He got that.
So now, it’s like the regular post-Christmas blues, but magnified, and I want to acknowledge that because I’m guessing I might not be alone in that grief and struggle with joy right now. That’s ok. For those who are joyful, we get to be joyful. For those struggling with joy, we get to struggle with joy. The reality of the post-Christmas blues is, I believe, in the realization that the dream of Christmas has not fully been realized. We celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace, the birth of Jesus, the Messiah, and then we find that as before, there isn’t yet peace on Earth.
I heard an interview on Fresh Air with Terry Gross a few days ago with Israeli author and peace activist Amos Oz. He had just died and they were rebroadcasting previous interviews, and in the one I heard, he was talking about one of his books, Black Box, and he said it was ultimately “a novel about great dreams, about great expectations, about bigger-than-life visions and, indeed, about the morning after and the sad realization that every dream come true is bound to be flawed by coming true.”
He went on to talk about the modern nation of Israel, about Israel itself being a flawed dream come true. There was such hope, such Messianic hope, in the re-creation of the nation of Israel, that it would be an idyllic, egalitarian country, that nations would flock to it and they would be a light to bring peace on Earth. With all of the good that Israel is, the reality has of course fallen short of that dream. The same could be said of the United States, of the city on a hill and light to the nations that we strive to be, and the reality that falls short of that dream, and the same can be said of the Church and every other dream we have. That’s life.
“Every dream come true is bound to be flawed by coming true.” That struck a chord with me regarding Christmas and the Epiphany. The dream of the Messiah and of peace on Earth. Did the Magi, after seeing Jesus, feel “the sad realization that every dream come true is bound to be flawed by coming true?”
Who were these guys and maybe galls, these Magi from the east? Ultimately, we don’t exactly know, but from the text, we know they weren’t kings. They were more like astrologer, pagan, mystic, tarot card-type folks who were decidedly not Jewish. So, star guiding them or not, why were they looking for or expecting some Jewish king or messiah? Israel had a king, and they went to Israel’s king to ask about this newborn king/messiah guy, so this obviously wasn’t a geopolitical greeting and first summit around a new world leader. So what was going on?
Again, we don’t exactly know, but my guess is this. These magi had heard stories from Jewish people they had lived with or encountered. My guess is further that the stories they heard included stories from the prophets about a messianic figure, about the restoration of Israel, and about the peace on Earth of God’s kingdom fully realized that such a Messiah was thought to bring about.
Perhaps they’d heard stories from Isaiah 2 about nations streaming to Israel and people beating “their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; [when] nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” Maybe they had also heard stories from Isaiah 60 about the light of God coming upon Israel, of the good fortune for all through that promise, culminating with “they shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord.” Maybe the Magi had heard that verse and therefore brought gold and frankincense to proclaim the praise of the Lord…except for poor dumb Steve who thought Myrrh would be a good idea. Poor Steve the Magi.
We don’t know how the non-Jewish, pagan Magi came to know about a baby king born in Israel and spoken of in the prophets, but my guess is that they had heard these stories of Messiah and had heard the hopes Jewish people whom they had encountered that the Messiah would be born and bring peace on Earth.
So, were the Magi then disappointed with “the morning after and the sad realization that every dream come true is bound to be flawed by coming true.” Were the Magi the first to experience what we call the post-Christmas blues because, of course, there was not peace on earth after the birth of this Jewish Messiah.
Not even when God became human, even Messiah, the Christ, came into the world was there peace on Earth. There was not perfect peace on Earth, because God still left the earth in our care. Of course life is still going to be imperfect and flawed even with Messiah, even with the Christ. Perfection was never the point of the Christ. Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah, came; God became human to show us how to be human, and to join with us fully in our broken and flawed humanity. There is love. Love is the Epiphany. Not perfection. Love, with its life, its beauty, and its pain is the Epiphany that the Magi saw. These pagan, astrologer, tarot card reading type folks who were the antithesis of Jewish devotion to God were the ones to whom God gave this Epiphany of love. They were pagan, gentile, totally other than the people of Israel. In the eyes of the religious elite, they would have been totally unworthy of any kind of blessing or love from God, and yet the Epiphany of God’s love was given to them. Pagan, Gentile, they were loved by God.
They may have had some disappointment after seeing Jesus that the messianic hopes and fervor of peace on Earth had not been realized, but I’m guessing the Epiphany of love stuck with them. During the post Christmas blues, God’s Epiphany is love. No matter who you are. No matter your religious devotion or non-devotion. No matter where you are from or what you have done. You are loved. You are so loved. That is the Epiphany of Jesus. That is how Christ heals us, how Christ helps us to become fully human, that we know, in our hearts, that we are loved. That is God’s Epiphany of love. You are loved. You are so loved.
Brad Sullivan 3 Advent, Year C December 16, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Isaiah 40:1-11 Luke 1:26-38
“I Love You.” “I know.”
There’s a scene in the movie, “The Empire Strikes Back” in which one of the heroes, Han Solo, is about to be taken away by the villainous, evil Empire, and just before he’s taken away, one of the other heroes, Princess Leia, says, “I love you.” Han replies, “I know.” They’d had this on again off again, flirtatious angry relationship, never fully admitting how they felt for each other. Then, as everything is going downhill fast, Princess Leia makes sure Han knows how she feels about him, and Han replies with the perfect answer. Rather than the expected, “I love you too,” Han sees how much Leia wants him to know that she loves him, and so he replies, “I know.” In that, “I know” is of course heard, “I love you too,” loud and clear.
Now, aside from being a Star Wars nut and having been given a couple of Christmas coffee mugs yesterday with Leia on one and Han on the other that say, “I love Yule;” “I Noel,” why in the world would I bring this up? I bring this up because it actually seems to fit our Gospel reading for today.
Through the angel Gabriel, God tells this young woman, Mary, that she is going to conceive a son in her womb, not by her fiancée, Joseph. No, this son is going to be conceived within her by the Holy Spirit of God, and the child will be called Son of God, and he will be holy, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever. God says to Mary, “I’m going to give you a son, conceived by me, and your son is going to be the anointed one, the Christ, the savior of humanity.”
“I love you,” God says to all of humanity through Mary, and Mary responds, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord. Let it be with me according to your word.” “I know,” Mary responds on behalf of humanity, with the accompanying, “I love you as well,” heard loud and clear.
“I love you,” is a familiar refrain of God to humanity throughout scripture. In Isaiah, we hear God saying “I love you,” by giving Isaiah words of comfort for Israel, and Isaiah responds with “I know,” by crying out God’s words. “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.”
Comfort, God says, but we hear God’s cry of “I love you,” not only in his words of comfort, but also in the why, the why God’s words of comfort were spoken. She has served her term, and her penalty is paid. Israel has been punished, and even in that punishment, humanity is being told, “I love you” by God. In the punishment, God is saying to Israel, “y’all are supposed to be my people, living as a light to the nations, and here you’ve been so lax in following my ways, that the rich among have been hoarding your wealth and keeping wages low for the poor, you’ve been so lax in your prayer and worship that you’ve ceased to gain any of the strength and love and kindness that comes from begin with me, and you’ve show yourselves not to really love one another and therefore not to really love me. That’s not following in my way, and you can’t call yourselves my people when you act so contrary to my way.”
Even in that, God is saying, “I love you,” chastening to teach a still better way, and Isaiah, by crying out to the people, is responding on behalf of humanity, “I know.” I understand, Isaiah says to God, that in times of judgment and in times of forgiveness, you are constantly saying, “I love you.”
God is constantly saying, “I love you,” and not just to any one person or to any one people. God’s “I love you” is for all of humanity. That’s why God is our savior, why God has always been our savior.
In Psalm 62:1 we hear, “For God alone my soul in silence waits, from him comes my salvation.” Salvation in all its many forms comes from God, and God is the one thing alone for which our souls are longing, the one thing alone which is our salvation. God is love, hope, truth, light. God is the way for our lives to bring about community and healing in times of division, serenity in times of strife, love and compassion in times of loneliness, sorrow and repentance in times of harm, and friendship and celebration in times of joy.
God is the constant, “I love you,” to humanity, and in becoming human, that constant “I love you” becomes one with humanity. “I know,” Mary says. “Thank you, God for the love you have for us, for all of us, and so ‘Here am I the servant of the Lord, let it be with me according to your word.’”
God’s constant, “I love you,” is all around us, in scripture and prayer, in kindness and compassion, even in chastening and calls for repentance, God is constantly crying out, “I love you.” So how do we respond with “I know?” With the words of the prayer of thanksgiving at the end of Morning Prayer, we respond to God, “I know,” “not only with our lips, but in our lives, by giving up our selves to your service, and by walking before you in holiness and righteousness all our days; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
Brad Sullivan 1 Advent, Year C December 2, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Jeremiah 33:14-16 Psalm 25:1-9 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13 Luke 21:25-36
Prisoners of Hope
“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly.” Happy Advent everyone. Here at the beginning of the church year, we have Jesus talking about what almost sounds like a doomsday scenario. Be on guard, guys, because it’s gonna get bad, then it’s gonna get worse, then the Son of Man is going to come, and you’ll really have to watch out.
That’s not what’s going on here. “That day,” Jesus said. “Be on guard…[lest] that day catch you unexpectedly.” They day he was referring to was the day of the son of man, an allusion to Daniel chapter 7. The son of man, or one like a son of man, or a regular dude, (depending on how you interpret the words of Daniel), a regular dude is going to come with the clouds of heaven, and he is going to lead the people of Israel, and from then on, the people of Israel will be honored and praised by all the world, and all nations will look to Israel for peace and justice and the way of God throughout the earth.
This was Daniel 7:13-14, after the first twelve verses of Daniel 7 described four terrible kingdoms of the earth rising up and wreaking havoc on Israel. So, four kingdoms of the earth, followed by a kingdom whose origin is from God, a divinely ordained and ordered kingdom for God’s people, Israel.
That hasn’t happened yet. If we’re looking for historical cognates to the four kingdoms mentioned in Daniel, there are plenty of contenders like Babylon, Persia, Greece, Rome, but the point of Daniel’s vision is less about particular historical cognates, and more about God’s restoration of Israel after and even through destruction.
“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life,” Jesus said. Remember Daniel’s vision? Yes, dark days are coming, and God will be with us in and through those dark days, and afterwards, we will be restored. “When I am killed,” Jesus was saying, “when Rome sacks Israel, when the temple is destroyed, do not become prisoners of despair, weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.”
Don’t become prisoners of despair during the dark times. Whether it’s Rome sacking Israel, Harvey sacking Houston, the Camp Fire sacking northern California, we have no lack of dark times. We’ve got distress among the nations, roaring of the seas, fires, floods, we’ve definitely got fear and foreboding. We’ve got plenty of reasons to numb ourselves. That’ really what Jesus is talking about, being weighed down by dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life. Numbing. Numbing out so the worries of this life seem muted, or at least for a little while, we don’t have to care as much. Jesus is warning against responding to the worries of this life with dissipation and drunkenness.
Don’t be prisoners of despair. Be on guard lest you numb out and spend your life in frivolous amusement, wasteful expenditures, dissolute living…basically a lot of excess and pleasure seeking in order to numb out and avoid the darkness and worries of life.
Almost everyone numbs in one way or another to avoid or to get a temporary reprieve from the darkness and despair and worry of so much going on around us. We all numb out in one way or another, but don’t become prisoners of despair, Jesus taught.
Instead, Jesus taught, be prisoners of hope. This idea of prisoners of hope comes from Zechariah 9:12, and I am completely stealing this idea from Rabbi Annie’s sermon last month during the Shabbat for Solidarity. Become prisoners of hope.
Jesus knew he was going to die. He knew the Temple would be destroyed and his people would be scattered to the ends of the earth. He was acutely aware of the darkness and hardships around him, and he knew things were going to get worse, and yet he remained a prisoner of hope.
Remember Daniel’s vision, guys. Remember that one day, God’s kingdom will be fully lived out with Israel at the helm. Remember the brightness of the future which casts out all the darkness of the present. Remember, and be prisoners of hope.
Love deeply. Party with your friends, and enjoy life, that’s what Jesus did. Honor and respect yourself and those around you. Be faithful and true to who you are and who you want to be. Serve others when they are in need, and let others serve you when you are in need. Spend lots of time in prayer.
Jesus was constantly reconnecting himself to God through prayer. He got overcome by the darkness of the world, just like we do, and so he spent a huge amount of time reconnecting to the light of God through prayer.
As a people, we’re re-learning how to reconnect to the light of God through prayer with ancient practices like centering prayer and meditation. A group meets here at Temple Sinai on Thursdays at 5:00 for Centering Prayer. Bible Prayer groups are beginning to meet to pray though passages of scripture and to let the Spirit of God speak through the scriptures. Groups of people are meeting for prayer in online communities when work and travel and distance won’t allow them to meet together in person.
Praying the hours is becoming cool again. Early in the life of the church, folks were becoming overwhelmed by the fast pace of life and the constant demands of their time and attention by second and third century society. So, monastic communities began forming as folks left the cities to devote themselves to quieter lives of prayer, and far from drudgery, lives of service and prayer gave light, life, and joy to those who had been weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life. Nowadays, we find a new interest in monasticism in which people don’t have to become monks and nuns but continue to live their regular lives and also join with monastics in lives of service and prayer. More and more folks are choosing to become prisoners of hope. Morning, noon, evening, and night, we Episcopalians pray as prisoners of hope. Even those four hours of prayer come from monastic roots, from people no longer wanting to be weighed down by numbing the worries of this life away through dissipation and drunkenness.
Continual prayer and reconnecting to the light of God. Serving others in need and allowing others to serve us when we’re in need. Partying with friends and enjoying life while honoring and respecting ourselves and those around us. Love deeply. These are the ways Jesus lived as a prisoner of hope, and how Jesus taught us to be prisoners of hope.
Restoration is coming from God. That is our hope. In little ways every day, God is restoring creation in and through us. One day, God will restore all of creation with Israel at the helm. So do not numb out. Do not be weighed down by dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life as prisoners of despair. Instead, love deeply as prisoners of hope.
Brad Sullivan Proper 28, Year B November 18, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Mark 13:1-8
…Then Were We Like Those Who Dream…
“When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, then were we like those who dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy.” (Psalm 126:1-2) That’ Psalm 126 verses 1-2, and whether in those words or in other words, that idea is a recurring theme through the history of Israel. “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, then were we like those who dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy.” God restores Israel. God restores his people. God restores creation and covenant.
Before God restored the fortune of Zion, well obviously Zion’s fortunes weren’t doing so well. Babylonian captivity and the near total destruction of the nation of Israel. The capturing of the Ark of the Covenant by the Philistines, God’s very presence seemingly taken from Israel. 40 years of wandering in the desert after the Israelites lost faith in God that he could bring them into the land that he had promised them. God’s anger and rejection of the people of Israel after they formed a Golden Calf to replace God almost immediately after God saved Israel from slavery in Egypt. In each of these cases, after Israel’s fortunes weren’t doing all that great, God restored the fortunes of Zion, and then were the people of Israel like those who dream, then was their mouth filled with laughter and their tongue with shouts of joy.
That portion of Psalm 126 seems to me the unspoken promise within Jesus’ prophecy of the destruction of the temple. His warning / prophecy sounds pretty ominous, doesn’t it. Not only will the temple be destroyed, there will be wars, rumors of wars, nation against nation, earthquakes, famines, dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria. “This is but the beginning of the birthpangs,” Jesus said.
All that stuff I just described, it’s gonna get worse after that. The birthpangs, they begin, and then there’s full blown labor, and it’s gonna hurt, cause labor tends to do that, and sorry guys, there’s no epidural for this one, no nerve block. The best you can do is that breathing thing. Labor is coming, guys, and it’s gonna hurt, Jesus was saying, but let’s put a different emphasis on what he said. Rather than, “This is but the beginning of the birthpangs,” let’s say, “This is but the beginning of the birthpangs.”
Well, after birthpangs and labor comes a baby. So, what you’re saying, Jesus, is that after the destruction of the temple and all that other bad stuff happens, something fantastically wonderful is coming? Oh! Well that’s great! “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, then were we like those who dream.” That’s what’s coming.
Now, what came was not the rebuilding of the temple, nor even the restoration of the nation of Israel, at least not for about 1900 years. What happened was the people of Israel were dispersed and scattered without a nation, and the people of Israel survived, and even thrived. Rather than ceasing to be a people, they became even more fully a people, God’s chosen people spread throughout the world. The Temple was not restored in Jerusalem, and the religion changed at that point, but synagogues spread throughout the land. A people with one temple became a people with countless temples where folks could come and dwell and become God’s people.
I would say Emmanuel had a fairly decent dose of birthpangs back in August of 2017. I could say that Harvey and Emmanuel’s flooding, and all that has happened since “is but the beginning of the birthpangs.” To be faith think we’re still in labor, but guys, all that has happened, the flooding, the work, the fear, the discord, the coming together and the work to be done is but the beginning of the birthpangs.
A baby is coming. New life is coming. What’s that gonna look like? What does it mean for us to be a post-Harvey Emmanuel, a new creation by water and the word? I think we’re starting to find that out as we go, as we receive hospitality, as we continue to be Emmanuel even without our home, as we learn to be adaptive, gracious and flexible, practicing gratitude as life comes our way.
Ultimately, I think a post-Harvey Emmanuel, a new creation by water and the word, looks like a spiritual oasis in West Houston in which we are a spiritual oasis because you are a spiritual oasis, and you are a spiritual oasis, and you, and you, and all of y’all, and I are all spiritual oases. The Emmanuel being born is an Emmanuel in which the community is a spiritual oasis as we are all spiritual oases.
That’s the disperse nation of Israel after the destruction of the temple, bringing the light of God not in one place, but in countless places throughout the world. Emmanuel as each of us being a spiritual oasis in which God’s presence, peace, and nurture is present wherever any one of us is present, deeply rooted in prayer and scripture, deeply rooted in Jesus, always acting in love for others, with compassion, mercy, and peace.
That’s what I see in a post-Harvey Emmanuel. We gather as a spiritual oasis, and we leave as spiritual oases where the weary, the sin-sick, and the burdened come to be refreshed by the love and peace of Jesus present in each one of us. As spiritual oases, we each continually refresh ourselves through daily prayer, almost monastic in our practice of the four daily prayers of the Episcopal church. We continually refresh ourselves with daily reading of scripture, dwelling in God’s presence throughout history in the sacred stories of our faith. We continually refresh ourselves through other practices through which we remember and become aware of God’s presence, and love, and peace all around us.
No ain’t none of us gonna get it right all the time, and sometimes the best we’re gonna do is to reach out to someone else when our well has run dry and we need refreshment from them as a spiritual oasis. That too is what Emmanuel is becoming, this new baby being born, the new creation by water and the word. All the turmoil and strife has been but the beginning of the birthpangs. Emmanuel is becoming what we have been striving to be, a spiritual oasis in west Houston, by each one of us continually refreshing ourselves in God’s presence, and love, and peace. Emmanuel is becoming a spiritual oasis in west Houston by each one of us becoming a spiritual oasis. Emmanuel is becoming a spiritual oasis as our hearts are filled with God’s promise of restoration. “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, then were we like those who dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy.”
Brad Sullivan Proper 25, Year B October 28, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Mark 10:46-52 Isaiah 2:2-4
Out of Anger, Hatred, and Killing, “Let There Be Light”
“In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep…Then God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” (Genesis 1:1-3) Bartimaeus, a man who was blind called to Jesus to have mercy on him, and when Jesus asked what he wanted, he said, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said, “Go; your faith has made you well,” and immediately Bartimaeus could see. Where there had been a formless void and darkness for Bartimaeus, Jesus spoke, and there was light.
It is no stretch to draw a connection between the light at the beginning of creation and the restoration of sight for Bartimaeus, because there was so much more going on with Bartimaeus than one man getting to see again. The same voice that said, “Let there be light,” said to Bartimaeus, “Go; your faith has made you well.” God was once again bringing light into the darkness.
You might think that God would get tired of saying “let there be light” over and over again in the midst of our darkness, but it seems that in God’s love, God never tires of bringing light into the formless void of our darkness. Anger, hatred, killing. “Let there be light,” God says. “Let there be light.” The healing of Bartimaeus was a sign, a reminder that God is always taking the darkness of the world upon himself and bringing light and healing to this broken world.
I’m guessing that most people who witnessed Bartimaeus’ healing didn’t think to themselves, “Oh, God is restoring light into the void and darkness of humanity’s sin.” Most probably just thought, “Cool, Barty can see again,” but restoration and healing of creation is what was really going on in the healing of Bartimaeus, and the really cool thing about Bartimaeus is, he got to be a part of Jesus healing and restoring creation. He got to be a part of Jesus’ light casting out darkness.
Now, Bartimaeus didn’t do anything great. All he did was ask Jesus for help, but because he did, Jesus got to show that the light of God has not left the world in darkness, but rather God’s light is always with us in this world casting out darkness for those who wish to see.
We are here worshipping in a Jewish Synagogue because after Hurricane Harvey flooded our church, the Rabbi and people of Temple Sinai offered their sacred space for us to worship in on Sundays. They were the light in our darkness, and as with Bartimaeus, there was and is now something so much bigger going on than a small Christian community getting a place to gather for worship. In our communities coming together, God is working to heal his world. In our communities sharing Temple Sinai’s house of worship, God is casting out the darkness of anger, hatred, and killing.
Now, there was no anger, hatred, and killing between Emmanuel and Temple Sinai, but as we saw yesterday in Pittsburg, there is still plenty of anger and hatred towards and killing of the people of Israel. People at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburg were gathered yesterday for a Shabbat service, for Sabbath rest and peace, and a man walked in and killed 11 people simply because he hated wanted to kill Jews. The darkness of anti-Semitism, that anger, hatred, and killing is tragically still with us.
So, when I say we are a part of something so much bigger than ourselves by gathering here for worship at Temple Sinai, I mean we are a part of God casting out the darkness of anti-Semitism, of anger, hatred, and violence of all kinds. By being here, we are a part of God’s continuing story of taking the formless void and darkness of humanity’s anger, hatred, and violence, and saying to that darkness, “Let there be light.”
Now, like Bartimaeus, we haven’t done anything. All the work was done by a Jewish rabbi and her congregation saying, “Come, worship, let our house be your house.” All we did was say, “yes please, thank you,” and God said, “Let there be light.”
That is the story we are a part of by being here. That is the story we get to tell because we are here. We get to be a part of and tell the story of God healing creation. I hope we don’t miss that. I hope we don’t take this time gathering for worship in this sacred and holy place and simply think, “cool, we got a place to worship.” There is so much more going on here than just having a place to gather on Sundays. Jesus said his followers would be kicked out of the synagogues, and yet here we are. Peace and wholeness in creation is being restored.
In Isaiah 2:2-4, we here a vision of peace, of peace in Jerusalem and peace in the world.
In days to come the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. Many peoples shall come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.’ For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. (Isaiah 2:2-4)
That is the story we get to be a part of by worshipping here on Sundays, by accepting Temple Sinai’s offer for light in our darkness. People need to hear this story. It’s a story worth telling because it is part of a story that is so much bigger than we. Like Bartimaeus’ story was so much bigger than just him receiving his sight, our being here is part of God’s story of constantly saying, “Let there be light,” to the formless void and darkness of humanity’s anger, hatred, and killing. In the wake of 11 deaths at Tree of Life Synagogue, tell this story. Tell the story of Emmanuel at Sinai, the story of this congregation opening up their hearts to us, the story of God saying, “Let there be light.”
Brad Sullivan Proper 21, Year B September 30, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Numbers 11:4-6,10-16,24-29 Psalm 19:7-14 James 5:13-20 Mark 9:38-50
…And All the Water Was At Ease
Between the woods the afternoon Is fallen in a golden swoon. The sun looks down from quiet skies To where a quiet water lies; And silent trees stoop down to trees.
And there I saw a white swan make Another white swan in the lake; And, breast to breast, both motionless, They waited for the wind's caress, And all the water was at ease. - The Mirror, A.A. Milne
That poem is The Mirror by A.A. Milne, one of my favorites. My mom used to read the Complete Poems of Winnie the Pooh to my brother and me as kids growing up, and I have been reading those poems to our kids as they grow up. I love the peace and beauty of this poem where there are these two swans seemingly similar and yet as different as they can be, different as night and day.
One swan is flesh and blood, bones and feathers, the other one photons reflected off the surface of a lake, and yet they touch, uncrowded, sharing that space in peace, waiting for the wind’s caress.
Jesus’ disciples could have learned a little something from these two swans. When they saw the other casting out demons in Jesus’ name, it was too close: too close to who they were and what they believed, and yet too different. He was not one of them, and they wanted him to stop.
I think we understand the disciples reaction pretty well. I daresay last week was one of the most contentious weeks in America in quite some time…in politics which then affected most of our lives, with the continued senate confirmation hearings for Brett Kavanaugh as we heard from Dr. Christine Blasey Ford and her allegations of sexual assault against Judge Kavanaugh.
How could anyone who believes her possibly be a Christian, or how could anyone who believes him possibly be a Christian? The confirmation for a Supreme Court judge has been ripping us apart because we can’t imagine the other side belonging. “If you do this or if you declare that, then I just declare you to be outside of Jesus and his way.” “If they are in the church, then I am going to have to leave.”
Which group gets to be a follower of Jesus? Which group gets to declare who gets to be a follower of Jesus? Which political party gets to claim Jesus and be his followers? Which socio-economic group gets to claim Jesus and be his followers? Which race or gender gets to claim Jesus and be his followers?
Well, it’s pretty clear. Jesus said that whoever agrees with him in at least 83.4% of what they do and say and believe… He didn’t say that.
“Whoever is not against us are for us,” Jesus said.
The other who claims Jesus and does deeds of power in Jesus’ name, is claimed by Jesus. So we gather, breast to breast, motionless, and wait for the wind’s caress, and all the water is at ease.
What are we to do then with those with whom we disagree so viscerally that there is violence inside of us ready to explode out? We speak with those other, kindly, and we listen to those others. We talk. We allow ourselves to be right. We allow the other to be wrong. Hopefully they allow us to be wrong, and we don’t declare them outside the camp, or terrible, or awful…even if we’re thinking it. We gotta leave a little room for Jesus in that. For if our rightness causes us to sin, then cut it out and allow ourselves to be wrong.
How do we live with those with whom we disagree? Well, we continue to follow our baptismal covenant. We continue to speak, and work, and strive for justice. We continue to speak, and work, and strive to respect the dignity of every human being, including the wrong ones. We continue to speak, and work, and strive for the values we hold, and then we allow those others to still be wrong and to still be disciples of Jesus. “Have salt within yourselves, and be at peace with one another,” Jesus said.
Those who claim Jesus and strive for his kingdom and whose ways and beliefs you find abhorrent? We’ll, you’re probably right that they are wrong, and Jesus’ grace is sufficient for their wrongness and for yours.
As silent trees stoop down to trees, we remain breast to breast, both motionless, and we wait together for the wind’s caress, and let the water be at ease.
Brad Sullivan Proper 19, Year B September 16, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Isaiah 50:4-9a Psalm 116:1-8 James 3:1-12 Mark 8:27-38
To Sustain the Weary With a Word
Years ago, when I was youth minister and assistant priest, one of the youth in the church said to me, apropos of absolutely nothing, “You shouldn’t even be paid. All you do is talk for a living.” She said it with a smile…I think she was joking. We laughed. There is a lot of talking in my job, and one thing I pointed out was, “hey, I gotta eat.” Hopefully what I’m really doing through all this talking, is sustaining the weary with a word.
That’s what God had Isaiah do in his years of prophesying to Judah: sustain the weary with a word. Judah had not yet been taken into captivity by Babylon, and Isaiah prophesied both warnings of coming captivity and promises of restoration. Throughout Isaiah’s messages of warning and hope, there was a recurring theme of sustaining the weary with a word. The Lord enters into judgment with the elders and princes of his people: It is you who have devoured the vineyard; the spoil of the poor is in your houses. What do you mean by crushing my people, by grinding the face of the poor? says the Lord God of hosts. Isaiah 3:13-15
One of the main problems that God had with his people was how they were treating the poor and marginalized. ‘Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?’ The people called out. “Look, you serve your own interest on your fast-day, and oppress all your workers,” God responded through Isaiah. (Isaiah 58:3) God was not pleased with any religious sacrifice or offering while the unskilled workers were left poor and marginalized. God was not pleased by any amount of pious devotion or faith by those in a nation in which the wealthy became rich off of the labor of the poor, and the poor did not make enough to get by.
If it sounds like I’m getting political, talking about America, that’s what’s in Isaiah. Isaiah was there to sustain the weary with a word, not to uphold the wealthy who kept the poor weary through low wages. Isaiah was not about class warfare. Neither was God. God wasn’t telling the wealthy they had to be paupers. He was telling them, however, that if they truly wanted to be God’s people, then they had to make for darn sure that the poor among them, the wage earners and day laborers, had more than enough to get by. Otherwise, God said, you will not continue to be my people.
That is the heart of God. Don’t worry so much about pretending to love me through devotion, worship, and religion, God says. Truly love me by making sure that the least among you has enough not to be in poverty. At our last diocesan council, there was talk about executive salary, and I spoke with a man who agreed wholeheartedly with Isaiah. Years ago, this man was being paid a multi-hundred thousand dollar a year salary, and those whom he managed and oversaw were being paid not just less, but not enough. They were struggling. So he changed that and lowered his own salary to give substantial raises to those who worked under him. This man didn’t talk for a living, but he did sustain the weary with a word: the word of Isaiah, the word of Jesus which he lived out and made real in his life.
The word of Jesus that he lived out was, “those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” This man didn’t go hungry. He didn’t lose his house. He sacrificed quite a lot of luxury and convenience. He didn’t have the lifestyle that he could have, but he had enough. He chose to have less than the market demanded he have in order to make sure that others had what they needed.
That’s losing your life for Jesus’ sake.
Choosing to get by with less ain’t the easiest thing in the world to do. There are folks who will ridicule you for it. Folks who would be made uncomfortable by it. Choosing to get by with less so that others may have more is kind of counter to the American dream. Work hard enough, do enough, and you can get ahead, get rich, become powerful, a captain of industry. Choose to sacrifice your own wealth for the sake of your workers? That’s not really in there.
“Sustain the weary with a word,” God told Isaiah, and let that word be lived out in your actions. To be fair, everyone is weary. Even the wealthy and powerful get weary. We all have variations on the same brokenness inside of us: fear, lack of trust. From our earliest days, we all come to realize the world is often dangerous, and we can’t always trust the people around us. Jesus understands that fear which means God shared that fear with us. God gets it; God understands, that fear and lack of trust, our brokenness, is part of what drives us to seek power and wealth. With enough power and wealth, we feel secure, like we don’t have to depend on untrustworthy others. The problem is, it’s hard to get wealthy without someone down the line working for almost nothing.
If you try to save your life, you’ll lose it, Jesus said. Give up your abundance, your excess, your luxury (which many would call “comfort”), and see to it that those who work for very little, have enough. If you’ve got someone who works in your home or in your yard, pay them more than they ask for. Encourage others to do the same. Shop at businesses that pay their workers more than the minimum. Tell businesses that don’t, that you won’t do business there. Sustain the weary with a word. We’re not talking charity here, we’re talking wages needed to have enough, even if the market demands less.
I keep thinking of the Frank Capra movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” with Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed. It’s the story of George Bailey, a businessman who owns and operates the Bailey Building and Loan. He was hoping for a more lucrative business, but when his father died, he ended up taking over the business because the only other lender in town was a rather greedy man named Mr. Potter. Potter charged high interest, made a lot of money, and no small amount of people were left impoverished when they were late on their loans. So, George Bailey continued his father’s business, making loans to folks so they could build a house, make it till the next month or the next job, and he didn’t charge high interest, and told folks who couldn’t pay him back, to do what they could when they could.
George didn’t get rich. He helped his community. He had a drafty old house, an old car, and enough for his wife and kids. He’d been a man with big dreams, and was frustrated by seeing his childhood friends getting wealthy and getting ahead while he was stuck in his hometown, not getting wealthy, sometimes wondering if he was going to be ok, if they were going to have enough. Even so, he wouldn’t let that fear drive him to get rich off of the needs of the folks to whom he loaned money. He helped his community. He sustained the weary with his word and actions.
Then his bumbling Uncle Billy lost a huge amount of money, and George was facing the possibility of jail time and of losing his home and business because of the missing money. In the midst of this crisis, his wife made some calls to friends and family to let them know that George was in trouble. Folks from all over the community came pouring into his home, bringing money to get him out of the trouble he was in, and he received a message, in inscription in a book: “No man is a failure who has friends.”
That’s what giving up your life for Jesus looks like. That’s what sustaining the weary with a word looks like. If all you do is talk for a living, if you mow lawns, if you’re a captain of industry, or anything in between, we get to sustain the weary with a word. We get to live like George Bailey and all of his friends. We get to encourage others to do the same, to save our lives by giving up our lives, and to sustain the weary with a word and with action.
Brad Sullivan Proper 16, Year B August 26, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Joshua 24:1-2a,14-18 Ephesians 6:10-20 John 6:56-69
Choose Whom You Will Serve Eat
“Choose whom you will serve,” Joshua said to the Israelites. Will you serve God, or will you serve some foreign false god or idol? Joshua had taken over leadership of Israel from Moses just before they entered the promised land after fleeing from Egypt and spending 40 years in the desert. In today’s passage, Israel had finished settling the promised land, the territory was all divided up, so, Joshua was leading the people in renewing their covenant with God. Choose whom you will serve.
In the context of our Gospel reading today, I think it might be more appropriate to say, “Choose whom you will eat.” I know; it sounds bad, but Jesus said that those who eat his flesh and drink his blood abide in him, and he abides in them.
Of course, Jesus is not talking about literal eating. Instead of saying, “go eat Jesus,” think instead about, “having a diet” of Jesus. If I were to say, “I have a pretty steady diet of Jimmy Fallon in the evenings,” I think you would all understand that I mean I watch the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon most evenings. I don’t actually do that, but I needed an example that most everyone would get. We don’t say, “I eat people,” but we do talk about having diets of a particular person’s music or writing, teachings or commentary.
So, Jesus is telling his disciples to have a pretty steady diet of him. Spiritual food. Soul food. Heart food. Heck, even brain food.
I tend to have problems when I choose food other than Jesus. I tend to get frustrated pretty easily; I’ll make comments under my breath, roll my eyes, the kind of general nastiness that is terribly destructive, even if it is sometimes seen as no big deal. Such nastiness, such disdain for another is a big deal. It reduces the beautiful, beloved humans around us to contemptuous things to be conquered. I was reminded of this recently. Such behavior is not the way of Jesus, and such behavior comes from eating any of a thousand things other than Jesus.
When we’re calm and at peace with one another, in good times or in bad, it’s a good bet we’ve been feeding ourselves with Jesus. On the other hand, when the little things leave us angry, resentful, contemptuous, it’s a good bet we’ve been eating something else.
There’s the old Cherokee proverb which says there are two wolves inside of each of us struggling for control. One of the wolves is darkness and anger, violence and hatred. The other wolf is light and peace, compassion and love. Which one wins depends on which one we choose to feed. So, how do we feed the good wolf? How do we make a diet of Jesus? Well, there are thousands of ways to make Jesus our soul food diet…at least 42 ways to make a diet of Jesus. One way I made a diet of Jesus back in high school was reading scripture every night and praying just before going to sleep. This practice filled my soul and gave me visions of what life can be.
Paul’s words from Ephesians from a couple of weeks ago: “Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.” More than good advice, more than a command to try harder and do better, these words from Paul give a vision of what life is like when we make a steady diet of Jesus. Reading or remembering Paul’s words; putting away all anger, and wrangling, and slander; being kind, tenderhearted, and forgiving; I picture myself living those words in daily life. I breathe Paul’s words in and let them feed my soul, feed the good wolf, and for those moments, I am what Paul describes. My anger melts away and in its place, forgiveness, healing, and love fill my body and soul.
Scripture of one way to make a diet of Jesus. Prayer is another: sometimes with words, sometimes in the silence of the moment, simply being present to God in creation all around you. Eucharist is a way to make a diet of Jesus. Prayer and bible study with others. Serving people around you. Allowing people to serve you when you are in need. Not responding to someone when angry or upset, but waiting until you are at peace so your response can honor the made in God’s image human being in front of you. Noticing…simply noticing the lives of those around you, choosing not to be indifferent to the lives and the challenges of those around you.
All of these and so many more are ways to make a diet of Jesus.
See, God desires lives of peace and wholeness for each of us, and, in the realm of , “you are what you eat,” God offers himself as our soul food so that we may have lives of peace and wholeness.
Last week in a radio interview on NPR with a young woman whose life was made whole and set on a new path when she chose to make a steady diet of Jesus. Lulu Garcia-Navarro* was interviewing Yvonne Orji, a comedian and actress in the HBO show, Insecure, and she described her character in the show as “a beautiful mess.” She can’t quite get life together, doesn’t have great relationships with guys, though she keeps trying, dislikes her job, and is basically struggling in a life that she doesn’t know how to manage.
When Mrs. Orji, first got the script, she said that the character in the show was who she would have been like if she hadn’t gotten saved when she was 17. She’d grown up as a Christian, but not necessarily making a diet of Jesus. In college, she was planning on going kinda nuts with her newfound freedom and likely make a lot of mistakes which could have had some lifelong consequences.
Then she went to a Bible study and heard a woman there refer to God as “Daddy.” That seemed odd to her, calling God “daddy, but she said, “there was something so pure and passionate about [this woman’s] relationship with God that caused that to not be weird for her.” Yvonne decided she wanted that, whatever she had to do, and she stared making a diet of Jesus. That changed the course of her life, gave her strength and security to follow where God was directing her, which was different that what her parents wanted for her, and brought her to a place of peace and wholeness, living a life that she never imagined.
That’s what happens when we make a diet of Jesus. Rather than the unhealthy chaos that comes from filling our souls with all the junk food out there, making a diet of Jesus brings us peace and wholeness, and even new direction, that we may never have imagined, or maybe have only imagined.
So I leave you with an imagining, with an image of what life on a steady diet of Jesus can look like, in the words of Terri Hendrix in her song called, The Last Song.
May your peace be an anchor in stormy times. May your hope run like a river that will never run dry. May your burdens grow light; May your worries subside. This is my prayer for you.**
- https://www.npr.org/templates/transcript/transcript.php?storyId=639321123 ** https://terrihendrix.bandcamp.com/album/wilory-farm
Brad Sullivan Proper 12, Year B July 29, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Ephesians 3:14-21 John 6:1-21
Kneeling to Jesus, to Freedom, to the Man Who Wouldn’t Be King
I was at a teacher’s party last week with Kristin, for the teachers at her school; spouses were invited, and we actually got to see each other, which was lovely. We were meeting at one of their houses, and the Astros game was on, so as we were talking, we’d catch glances of the game, and unfortunately, the Astros were losing to the Texas Rangers. So at one point, the host and I were watching the game for a few minutes, and he rather sheepishly admitted to me that he was, in fact, a Rangers fan, having lived in Dallas for many years, and was rather happy with the score.
There was no problem, but there was a hint of a possibility of a problem. Was it ok for him to admit that he was a Rangers fan? Was I going to get upset and offended and think less of him? Did his identity as a Rangers fan somehow butt against and attack my identity as an Astros fan? No, of course not. Except for that passing split second when it did. So deep is our need for identity and some feeling of power and control, that even people rooting for a different team in a game in which we’re not playing, can feel a little bit like an attack.
This idea of our desire for power and control was expressed very well in the Marvel superhero movie, The Avengers. Simplifying the plot to bare bones, you’ve got Loki, the bad guy from another world, who wants to rule over a planet and be king of an entire people, so he chooses earth. After causing a good amount of destruction, Loki has a crowd of people before him, and he tells them all to kneel before him. Then he grins a little triumphantly and says,
Loki: “Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It’s the unspoken truth of humanity that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for power. For identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel.”
Captain America and Iron Man end up saving the day in that scene, but there is so much truth in that little speech and dialogue. Our mad scramble for power, for identity. We want to belong, and that belonging ties in with our identity. That’s why you have people fighting with each other and getting serious, even angry and violent in speech and action over things like sports teams.
We also desire power over the changes and chances of this life. Millenia of war exhibit our desire for power and how we seek power over others sometimes for protection, for identity, for one group’s wrong ideology or way of life. We do desire power over situations we don’t like or decisions with which we disagree, and in our desire to make the situation or outcome be what we want, we often respond to others with verbal and sometimes even physical violence.
That’s what Loki did. Then, at the end of his little speech, as Loki says, “you will always kneel,” a man stands up and says,
German Man: “Not to men like you.
Loki: “There are no men like me.” (Loki responds.)
German Man: “There are always men like you.”
There are always people like Loki who seek power over others. There are always people like Loki who seek to subjugate people or situations to their wills or desires. If we look deep inside, those people like Loki are all of us. We all desire power over the changes and chances of this life, and we all, in our less that wonderful moments, end up using power to get what we want in ways that cause harm or subjugate others to our wills.
Paradoxically, as much as we desire power, Loki was right that we also seek subjugation. Most of us want people in governmental authority over us, and most of us don’t want those jobs. There are areas in which we want power, and there are areas where we’d rather be subjugated to someone else’s power, a good ruler, and to let that person take over responsibility.
There is peace in surrender. There is the peace of child who doesn’t have the weight of ruling over the household. Think of Israel demanding of God a king to rule over them. God warned them, “he is going to subjugate you under his will,” and the people responded, “that’s fine, just so long as we can have a king to rule over us.”
During Jesus’ day, Israel had a puppet king ruling over them, while Rome was actually in charge. They didn’t like this king; things were not good under his rule or under the rule of Rome, and when people kept seeing Jesus’ power to heal, to perform miraculous works, they decided he should be king. “When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.”
Jesus would not be the ruler over us in any kind of system of power and authority of this world.
Bishop Doyle writes about Jesus’ rejection of the power and violence of the world in his book, The Jesus Heist. He writes, “Jesus makes clear that violence is to be met with peace and nonviolence.” “The way of the society of the friends of Jesus [is to] avail themselves of different weapons [than the weapons of this world]: presence, conversation, and humility.” That’s what Jesus did with people. He had dinner with them. He talked with people. He was with them in their lives, joys, and struggles. In Jesus, Bishop Doyle writes we are freed from the systems of violence and domination in this world, through unity with Jesus and conversion in him.
There is a paradox of surrendering to Jesus. All power and authority is his, and he will not use that power and authority to subjugate us. Jesus is not going to force and control us. Surrender to Jesus’ power and authority is surrender to freedom in Jesus.
Freedom to love without fear. Freedom to love others and live out the image of God in which we were made. Freedom to let go our anger and our hurt which lead us to want control over situations and control over others: in the board room, in our homes, at work, on the freeway. We have freedom in Jesus to let go of our desires for control and realize, it’s ok to forsake the anger, and fear, and hurt within us, and to live love instead.
There is freedom in Jesus to accept the changes and chances of the life. Freedom from the need for fear and violence to keep us safe and secure. When a loving parent tucks a child in to bed at night, sometimes laying down with them as they drift off to sleep, giving them a blessing on their forehead, fears and worries slip away, and the child rests secure, knowing that all is well. Mommy and Daddy are there.
Our surrender to Jesus is like that child with a loving parent. In Jesus, we can rest secure and at peace, even with the changes and chances of this life.
Back to Loki in his mad quest for power, he was right that we will always kneel to something. Kneeling to Jesus, we kneel to one with all power and authority who chooses not to rule over us through his power and chooses not to force us to do anything at all. Instead, we bow to kneel to Jesus, and he frees us to live and love without fear.
As Paul wrote, “I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.”
Paul goes on to pray that we may have some comprehension of the vastness of the love of Jesus, so that as we kneel to him, we may be filled with the full peace and love of God, resting secure that the power of God working in us can accomplish far more than we can ask or imagine. We kneel to Jesus and find freedom, freedom to love and live without fear.
Brad Sullivan Proper 10, Year B July 15, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Mark 6:14-29
Title
John the Baptist was killed because of a hastily-made promise given by a man who was overly aroused by his step daughter’s dancing. With little thought as to possible consequence, Herod spoke his promise to give her whatever she wanted. He was acting out of emotion, feeling more than thinking, and so in his lust and over excitement, he got a man killed.
I’d like to say that as disciples of Jesus, we don’t fall into that trap anymore, the trap of speaking and acting out of our emotions and letting our rash words cause harm to others. I’d like to say that we don’t cause harm with our rash words, but of course we all still do. As researcher and author Brené Brown points out, we like to think of ourselves as thinking people who also have emotions, but really, we are emotional people who also think sometimes. We are often driven by our emotions and even our rational decisions are often clouded by our emotions.
We may not often get people killed with a hastily made promise like Herod did, but remember that even before Herod had John killed, he had him imprisoned. This was probably another hastily made decision, probably based largely on emotion. Herod was the named Jewish king. He was a puppet king of Rome, but even so, his assigned duty was to lead well the nation of Israel, so when he decided to marry his brother’s wife, John pointed out that doing so was against Jewish law. Now usually, Herod liked listening to John. He was perplexed by his teachings, but something about John’s teaching about God and about the ways of the people of Israel seems to have connected with Herod. Then John called into question Herod’s unlawful marriage, and in what was likely a tantrumy fit of emotion, Herod decided that there was no longer room enough in Israel for both John and him, so he had John imprisoned.
“I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go.” That was Herod’s basic operating model with John. We don’t often get people killed with our rash words and emotionally clouded decisions, but “I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go,” is something I hear with increasing frequency.
In our nation, with much of the vitriolic, emotional language surrounding any issue, people tend to be painted in absolute, binary terms. On one side of what we hear, if you agree with anything President Trump does or says, then you are described or thought of as a hateful racist (which is completely false). On the other side of what we hear, if you don’t agree with something President Trump does or says, then you are described or thought of as an anti-American nincompoop (also totally false). Put another way, much of what we hear is, “I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go.” That’s Herod’s way.
This way of thinking with our emotions, lives not only in our political thoughts and civil discourse. The putting away of and rejection of the other ends up living in our church and our faith as well. My guess is that most of us don’t believe in overly emotional labels of the other. Most of us, when our emotions are down, don’t really believe in the “I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go” mentality. Most of us would not want to kick out of the church those who have different beliefs about our faith or different beliefs about various laws in America. We may disagree, but I’m guess that most of us would not want to declare those with whom we disagree no longer welcome in the Episcopal Church or no longer a part of the Body of Christ, and yet people continue to feel like that is exactly what they are being told. “Because of what you believe, you no longer belong.”
I had a question recently from a friend in the Episcopal church, wondering about the Episcopal Church’s stance on a variety of current hot button issues. Ultimately, he was wondering if he still belongs in the Episcopal Church. He has more conservative views on most of the hot button issues of the day and he was wondering if because of his conservative views, he was going to be seen as a bigot in his church. Hearing what some in his church have said, hearing what some leaders in the church have said, he was guessing that he wasn’t welcome. Now, none of those leaders said he wasn’t welcome, but we hear it so much, that we hear “you aren’t welcome,” even when it is not being said or thought. Based on conversations and observations of others in his church, he was afraid. He felt that if he were to say that he agrees with some of President Trumps policies, that he would be labeled a hateful racist and be shunned.
I assured him that as far as any official stance within the Episcopal Church goes, of course he is a part of the Episcopal Church, and of course his views are welcome in the Episcopal Church, and he is not viewed as a bigot for having conservative beliefs. Nor is anyone viewed as a nincompoop for having liberal beliefs. There are bishops, priest, and laity throughout the Episcopal Church on the far right, on the far left, everywhere in between, and all of those beliefs are welcome. It’s not as comfortable as it is to say, “I disagree; you don’t belong.” That’s a lot easier, but that is not the way of the Episcopal Church. One of the longtime hallmarks of the Anglican/Episcopal church is that we are united in Jesus, and our unity in Jesus overcomes any other divisions we have.
Sadly, much of how we talk about our differences leaves us feeling like there is only room for some of us. I’ve been guilty of this in how I’ve talked and written. I’m guessing many of us have, when we talk emotionally about an issue and end up saying things in such a way that those with opposing views end up hearing very clearly, “I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go.”
A one sided church is not, however, the way of the Anglican/Episcopal Church. The Anglican Church started off with bloodshed. When a catholic monarch was in charge, they killed the protestants, and when a protestant monarch was in charge, they killed the Catholics. Finally, Elizabeth basically said, We’re not doing this anymore. This isn’t the church of Catholicism; this isn’t the church of Protestantism. This is the church of England. Furthermore, this is the church of Jesus, and we are going to be united around Jesus and be united around prayer. So all of you Catholics who are so upset that there are Protestants here, terribly sorry, we’re keeping them. All of you protestants who are so upset that there are Catholics here, terribly sorry, we’re keeping them too, and we’re going to unite and come together in that tricky, messy middle place where we remain as one, united in Jesus.
We continue to this day to seek a middle way between opposing views. We continue to believe that our unity comes from Jesus and that there is room enough for all of us, even with our opposing views.
In Herod’s kingdom, there was room enough only for what pleased Herod. If someone challenged him or made him uncomfortable, then there was no longer room for that person. In Jesus’ kingdom there is room for all of us. We are all the Body of Christ and individually members of it. Not only is there room for all of us, but there is need for all of us.
One of the issues my friend asked about was immigration. While he isn’t a fan of detaining children, he also believes that enforcing our immigration laws is a good thing. He is aware of the human tracking that happens everywhere in the world, including along our southern border, and as much as he wanted children to be reunited with their parents, he was also aware of the possibility that some of those children were likely being trafficked by people who weren’t their parents.
As it turns out, on the issue of separating families on our southern border, both sides have truths that we need. We need to be compassionate in how we treat and speak about immigrants, and we need to enforce our laws with compassion and dignity, and we need to enforce our laws in order to keep people safe. Both sides are needed for America to be the nation we were founded to be, and both sides are needed for us to truly live as the Body of Christ. We need each other, and there is plenty of room in Jesus for all of us.
Paul wrote in his letter to the Galatians that basically there is no room in Jesus’ kingdom for enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, etc. There is room, however, for being wrong. There is room for disagreeing. There is room for striving for what is right and good, and coming up with different solutions for doing what is right and good. There is room within Jesus, within the Body of Christ for what Paul calls the fruits of the Spirit: love for each other, joy in creation and our faith, peace in our hearts, patience and kindness as we live with others, assuming each others’ goodness, faithfulness to Jesus, gentleness and self-control as we live with our differences. These fruits are how we live with one another in Jesus because these fruits are part of the character and nature of who Jesus is.
Unlike in Herod’s kingdom of his way only, of rash words and decisions based on raw emotion and arousal, we belong to Jesus’ kingdom. No political or social belief unites us or divides us, and no rash words spoken by any of us in the heat of emotion get to declare that someone else doesn’t belong. We all belong in Jesus.
Brad Sullivan Proper 5, Year B June 10, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Genesis 3:8-15 Psalm 130 2 Corinthians 4:13 - 5:1 Mark 3:20-35
At the Time of the Evening Breeze…
At the time of the evening breeze, God was walking through the Garden, and the man and the woman were afraid of God’s judgment, so they immediately started demonizing the other. Rather than just take responsibility for their own actions, they each blame someone else. Eve blames the serpent. Adam basically blames God. “You gave me the woman, and she gave me the fruit, so really, it’s kinda your fault.” We’re still pretty good at blaming the other at the time of the evening breeze when God walks through our lives. What if we’re not good enough? What if God is upset about something I’m doing or something they’re doin…“Demon!” “Burn the witch!” We shout. “Ooh, something new or different which seems to threaten my understanding of the world. Kill it! Burn it with fire!”
That’s our standard knee jerk reaction to what we don’t understand or what seems to threaten us. Demonize the other. In Jesus’ case, he was not working within the standard ways and means of the religious system of first century Judaism, and so the keepers of that system felt threatened by Jesus. They felt threatened by Jesus for a variety of reasons, and they feared that at any moment, God might come walking at the time of the evening breeze, and so they had the knee jerk response of , “Kill it! Burn it with fire.”
In the story we heard today, the scribes saw Jesus casting out a demon, and they called it the work of Satan. In order to demonize Jesus, they said that Satan, the Adversary, was doing work of healing, unity, and wholeness. Healing, unity, and wholeness is the work of the Holy Spirit, the Advocate. So Jesus responded. “As really religious people you feel threatened by something quasi new happening within your religion, and so you’re saying that healing, unity, and wholeness is being done by Satan, the Adversary? Really guys?”
Adversarial Rule, the rule of Satan, causes division, keeps us down, keeps us fighting with each other seeking victory over peace, seeking to be right rather than to be in good relationships with each other. Adversarial Rule has us demonize the other, has us attack anything we disagree with, has us take our hurt and our fear and lash out at our perceived enemy to try to gain back some perceived mastery over the world. We act in this way when our world seems threatened, when groups of people whom we think are wrong are called blessed; when we think we know a better, faster solution to a problem than those working to fix the problem; when our fear and pain has us lash out at a perceived enemy, trying to control our world, rather than to give over to God our profound lack of control.
Division, anger, hurt? These are the marks of the rule of Satan, the Adversary. Healing, unity, and wholeness? Not so much, and yet, as in our Gospel story today, we often see people in our world ascribing healing, unity, and wholeness to the work of the Adversary. We see peace, healing, and wholeness happening to those deemed unworthy or sinful, and so that peace, healing, and wholeness is often ascribed to the Adversary, while at the same time, division, anger, and hatred are ascribed to the work of the Holy Spirit, ascribed to the goodness of doing what is right.
I’m not sure if this is the unforgiveable or eternal sin of which Jesus spoke, but it is certainly not what Jesus has in mind for us.
This part of the Gospel where Jesus says there is an eternal, unforgiveable sin, blaspheming the Holy Spirit, has always been a tough passage for me. I’m sure it’s y’all’s favorite, but we have probably all wondered, “How exactly does that eternal, unforgiveable sin work?” I don’t know, and I’m not going to try to explain away the judgment piece, nor am I going to try to define it. If I label the eternal sin as something we can no longer do (which I’ve seen in some commentaries), then I am just helping us ignore Jesus’ teaching for the sake of our comfort and convenience. If, on the other hand, I declare and label something to be that eternal sin, then I’ve just scapegoated someone or something (probably something like the opposite of us), and have put myself in God’s seat of judgment.
So, instead, I’m going to say this. Jesus certainly took extremely seriously our propensity for condemning something good simply because we feel threatened by it. Seeing the work of the Holy Spirit and calling it the work of Satan is an extremely serious offense in Jesus’ book, and I think our history bears out the damage caused by such actions.
Look, there is work of healing and unity happening in the case of two people who love each other and want to be married. One has really dark colored skin, and the other has really light colored skin. “Kill it! Burn it with fire!” Look, there is healing and unity happening in the lives of two people who love each other and want to commit to sharing their lives together, but we think some parts of our religion say it’s wrong. “Kill it! Burn it with fire!” Look, “how good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity,” but some of those people are the wrong religion or group, and we feel threatened by that. “Kill it! Burn it with fire!” We fear, and so we blame and shame and demonize.
I can imagine a good amount of other blaming fear on the part of the scribes when they saw Jesus and the following he was gathering. They knew the scriptures, they knew what happened to Israel when people started worshipping something other than God. They were exiled or conquered. So, the Scribes saw folks following Jesus, and he didn’t follow the religion the way they thought he should, so out of their fear for their nation and their people, they had the knee jerk “kill it, burn it with fire” response.
As I said earlier, we still have this response today. We really always have, and boy is it obvious and pronounced today. One side feels the nation is threatened by the other side’s beliefs, and so we have that response: “Kill it! Burn it with fire!” We see or hear something different happening within our religion, and we’re afraid of what is to come, and so we have that response: “Kill it! Burn it with fire!”
Into these situations, Jesus says, “Dude, you gotta chill. Following every aspect of your religion perfectly? Yeah, Dad’s not into that all that much. Seeing work of healing and unity, bringing exiled or banished people back into the fold, and calling that the work of Satan? Dad’s especially against that. You may be trying to save your nation or your religion by condemning those you see as outliers and calling the work of Satan any who would declare them clean, but really, you’re just condemning yourself…that goes for Republican and Democrat, Progressive and Conservative, by the way.”
Amidst our fears of doing the wrong thing and angering God, Jesus reminds us that God is not really concerned with us doing our religion correctly. If something is bringing healing, unity, and wholeness, it’s a good bet God is for it. God is not interested in our demonizing of the other. God is not interested in us trying to look good in his eyes by seeing healing, unity, and wholeness and being afraid of it. God wants to walk with us at the time of the evening breeze and be glad that he is there, not to hide or to fall in to fear. As God walks with us at the time of the evening breeze, God wants us to join in healing, unity, and wholeness, and to fall together into his love and mercy.
Brad Sullivan Proper 4, Year B June 3, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Deuteronomy 5:12-15 Psalm 81:1-10 2 Corinthians 4:5-12 Mark 2:23 - 3:6
Sabbath, Jesus: Gifts of Freedom from All that Enslaves us
Rules are made to be broken. That’s one of my favorite oft quoted sayings of supposed wisdom which is actually totally and completely bogus. Rules aren’t made to be broken. That’s just something people say when they don’t feel like following a rule, which happens pretty much of the time. Rules weren’t made to be broken. Then again, rules aren’t generally made to be followed either. Don’t get me wrong, those who make rules want them to be followed, but following some arbitrary rule is not the point of making the rule. Rules aren’t made to be followed. Rules are made to be helpful.
The Pharisees missed that in their understanding of the rule about not working on the Sabbath. Thinking that the rule was made to be followed, rather than to be helpful, the Pharisees had become enslaved to the rule which is particularly ironic since one of the reasons for the commandment not to work on the Sabbath is to free us from slavery.
Biblical scholar Vanessa Lovelace points this out in looking at the Sabbath commandment in Deuteronomy which we heard this morning. See, in the Exodus telling of the commandments, keeping the Sabbath is tied to creation, for in six days God created the world, and on the seventh day God rested. In Exodus, a day of rest is tied into the very fabric of creation.
In Deuteronomy, however, observing the Sabbath is tied to God freeing the people of Israel from their slavery in Egypt. “Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the sabbath day.”
God freed you from slavery, therefore you should keep the sabbath. Rather than an arbitrary rule made to be followed, the sabbath commandment was given in part to help maintain freedom. Not only are “you” not supposed to do any work, but neither are your children, nor anyone who works for you. Everyone is supposed to rest so they do not become enslaved to the tyranny of work. Enjoy creation. Enjoy one another. Our work has to be done, and there is always more work to be done. The taskmaster of our work will be happy to keep us at it forever, expanding more work to fill as much time as we’re willing to give. God knows we can become enslaved to work, so he commands us to remove the chains of our work and take time to rest.
The Sabbath commandment was not made simply to be followed, and it wasn’t made to be broken either. The Sabbath commandment was given as a gift so that we would take time to rest, to pray, and to remember God our creator and liberator. The Sabbath commandment was given as a gift so that we would take time to be with each other, enjoy the beauty of one another, enjoy the beauty of creation all around us, and enjoy time spend playing.
Then the well-meaning Pharisees come along. Rather than being liberated by the Sabbath, they had become enslaved to the Sabbath. They treated the Sabbath like a rule that must be followed, totally forgetting the freedom and play that is intended in the rest.
Have you ever seen children fighting over a toy, not because one wants what the other has, but because one of the kids is playing with the toy incorrectly? One kid will be playing with a toy in a way other than how the toy was intended to be used, and having a marvelous time. Then another kid will see the offending child having fun in a way which is inconsistent with the way the child thinks the toy should be played with, and that kid will be all up in arms. “No. You’re supposed to do it this way!” To be fair to children, there are plenty of times when adults do the same thing to children, seeing them play with a toy in a manner inconsistent with the manufacturer’s prescribed use, again, having a marvelous time, and the adult will also stop the offending child at their joyful play. Ok, so a quick public service announcement to kids and any adults who are with children in play: toys are meant to bring joy and fun to their users; toys are not meant to be taskmasters which keep us following a particular way of performing an activity.
The Pharisees needed a similar PSA. The Sabbath was intended to honor God, to give rest to creation and to us, and free us from the tyranny of work.
Jesus’ disciples plucked some grain as they walked through the grainfields. They weren’t harvesting the grain. They saw some food, and they were hungry and so they decided to eat it. Then there were the Pharisees, following Jesus and his disciples around like some ancient internet troll just waiting for a chance to say “gotcha!” My gosh did they miss the point. “Don’t enjoy creation! Don’t eat if you’re hungry. It’s the Sabbath, and we’re going to make sure you observe it the way we want you to. Freedom and joy with God be damned.”
Then, Jesus healed a man on the Sabbath. Talk about freedom. Jesus freed this man from his disability, his useless, withered hand, and all the Pharisees could say was, “You should have waited until nightfall.” They got so incensed by the whole, “people enjoying life and being freed on the Sabbath” thing, that they decided the best course of action would be conspiracy to commit murder. “You didn’t play with our toy the right way. You’ll have to go.”
Ok, to be fair to the Pharisees, we too don’t like it when things we know and love are changed. Thankfully we’ve never done anything like that in the church, well, except for during the reformation…and those other times. Hey, but at least we didn’t kill anyone in the church because they were doing some churchy practice wrong. Well, except for important things like in ancient church divisions where you could be killed for crossing yourself in the wrong way. Or during the start of the Anglican church where you could be killed for being too Anglican…or too Catholic…or too Anglican…or too Catholic.
Then there were the times when folks were killed for reading the scriptures in languages other than Latin, times when people in the church were killed by other Christians for things like believing the wrong things about Jesus, being black, being homosexual. We haven’t always killed each other over our differences, sometimes we’ve just quit churches, split churches, held grudges for years, and grown hatred and contempt in our hearts. Wine vs. grape juice, bread vs. wafers, putting the wrong flowers in the wrong place or singing the wrong music at worship. People left the Episcopal church back in 1979 when the prayer book was changed and we started having Eucharist every Sunday instead of once a month. “No, not Jesus! Keep him away.” We were doing it wrong.
Contra all of our divisions and incitement sometimes even to violence because we’re chained by our way of doing things or held captive by our ways of understanding things, God doesn’t want us enslaved to anything. When we become enslaved to desires for comfort and convenience, forsaking God’s dream for us to join in bringing about his Shalom on earth, God continues to give the gift of the Holy Spirit to set us free.
Millennia ago, God gave the Sabbath to set us free. God lived and died as one of us to set us free. God has given us these gifts, the gifts of Sabbath, the gift of Jesus to set us free from all of the chains that bind us. The gift of Sabbath so that we can take time to rest, to pray, to remember God our creator and liberator, and so that we can take time to be with each other, enjoy the beauty of one another, enjoy the beauty of creation all around us, and enjoy time spent playing. The gift of Jesus to set us free from all that binds us.
Enjoy these gifts God has given and be set free. Enjoy the gift of Jesus and freedom he gives us all. Freedom from anything that binds us: our past, our resentments, our addictions, our need to follow the rules of our religion so tightly that we forget the joy and freedom that our religion is intended to give us in the first place. Observe the sabbath day and keep it holy, as the Lord your God commanded you. Keep this faith and these rules that God has given, not because rules are made to be broken or followed, but in order that we might be set free.
Brad Sullivan Trinity Sunday, Year B May 27, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Isaiah 6:1-8 Romans 8:12-17 John 3:1-17
Trinityish Type Stuff: a.k.a. Restoring God's Shalom
Without doubt and without fear, May you find some comfort here, May there be hope to help you cope When what you need Is nowhere near
Make your mark unto these years, Shape your world with salt and tears, Carry on when your will has gone, Be it joy or sorrow
Given time, given faith, Given courage to embrace Changes as they each take place, Be it joy or sorrow - Terri Hendrix, Joy or Sorrow
That’s from a song called Joy or Sorrow by Texas singer/songwriter, Terri Hendrix. That song made me think of the life of Jesus, following the wind of the Holy Spirit. In good times and in bad, in joy or sorrow, Jesus had a profoundly beautiful life, being led by the wind, the Spirit of God. Jesus was fully connected to God and to creation around him with hope, with faith, embracing life as it came, be it joy or sorrow
Now because of Jesus and because of the church’s dawning realization that he was God, living as an actual human being among us, the church, began over the centuries to develop an understanding of God as being one God who was also three distinct persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We developed this understanding of God because Jesus spoke to God, his father, who spoke back to him, and Jesus was led by the Holy Spirit of God. The three worked and moved together as one, even though they were each distinct.
How’s that work and fit together, three persons who are one God and yet still three distinct persons while still being one God? I don’t know. After years of pondering and wondering, I simply think of I think of the Trinity in terms of relationship. Three persons bound together so perfectly in love for each other that they are one. From that image of God, we gain an understanding of the image of God in which we were made. We were intended to love others and be loved by others, to join with others so that we are one with them. That was Jesus’ prayer for his disciples, if you’ll remember from John 17:11, that they would be one as he and the Father are one. In good times and bad, in joy or sorrow, we were made to be like God, bound to one another in love, our loving unity creating shalom, the peace and wholeness of God.
I’ve been reading Learning Change by Jim Herrington & Trisha Taylor, and they begin the book with idea of God’s dreams for us, that we would each bring about the peace and wholeness of God. “We were designed,” they write, “to dream of the epic life God created us for - the abundant, fully human, and fully alive life that Jesus lived. Along the way, we exchange that dream for a seriously compromised version, characterized by the pursuit of comfort and convenience...” “God [has chosen] us to partner with him in recreating and restoring shalom in our own families, our communities, and ultimately in the world.”
Reading this book has reminded me of the dream I had as a youth of following the wind of God and having a purpose in my life to restore shalom. I lost some of that along the way, coming into adulthood and seeking comfort and security for my life. I lost that dream of partnering with God in restoring shalom, and since reading this book, Jesus has been calling me to make some changes, even if only in attitude and outlook, so that I can reclaim that dream of a life of partnering with God in restoring peace and wholeness.
Restoring Shalom, the peace and wholeness of God, was Jesus’ life through and through, and partnering with God in restoring Shalom is the life Jesus was talking about when he told Nicodeums about being born from above. When we’re born from above, we follow the epic dream God has for us, partnering with him in restoring shalom in the world and following the wind of God.
“Wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes,” Jesus said. Thinking of the wind blowing where it chooses in terms of the Trinity, I have this great image of the Father and the Son talking together and suddenly a mighty wind starts blowing, and the Son says, “Hey Dad, where do you think she’s going now?” “Are you kidding, Son, I never have any idea where she’s going, but it’s always on the grandest adventure.” …and together they follow the Spirit, the three bound perfectly together in love, their loving unity creating shalom, the peace and wholeness of God.
Being born of the Spirit of God, following the wind, which blows where it chooses, we don’t know where it comes from or where it goes, and yet we find something beautiful in the life of that wind, and so we follow where the wind blows. Jesus calls us to surrender ourselves to follow God’s epic dream for us of abundant, fully human life. In that surrender, we let go some of some false security, comfort, and convenience, and we follow the wind of God, partnering with him in restoring shalom.
Be it joy or sorrow, our lives were made for so much more than for securing our own comfort and security. We were made to be fully alive which does not mean that we’ll be perfectly happy with no tears ever. Both Joy and sorrow will still happen as they did for Jesus. We know that risking joy and sorrow is part of what it means to be fully alive, fully human. So is following the wind of God on whatever grand adventure she has in mind for us.
We had two examples in our scripture readings today of people following the wind of God on a new grand adventure: Isaiah and Nicodemus. For Isaiah, he had this grand vision of God in his divine court with angels all around him, leaving little doubt that the grand adventure on which he was about to embark was the wind of God, in his case, a gale force wind. He had no idea what he was getting into, but as soon as God asked, “Who will go for us?”, Isaiah piped, “Sounds good, let’s go! What are we doing again?” There was joy and sorrow in his following the wind of God, but come what may, Isaiah was all in. Some folks have such experiences of a strong sense of God calling them to follow the wind on a grand adventure, and they can’t wait to begin.
Others are more like Nicodemus. He was a little more subdued in his response. For one thing, the invitation that he received to follow the wind of God was less gale force and more gentle breeze, and he wasn’t at all certain that he wanted to follow. Having seen and heard Jesus, he saw something beautiful, and he felt the wind of God on his face gently beckoning him onward, but he thought, “This seems potentially great, but also very confusing and rather distressing; can I talk about this with you in private, Jesus?”.
I love both of these examples of how we can say yes to the wind of God beckoning us to follow in the life of the Trinity. God lets us follow the wind as we can, as we learn to trust him and catch the beauty of the dream of God’s life for us.
Where’s the wind of God blowing? I don’t know. Just ask yourself this: Who’s the next person you’re going to talk with or even look at while you’re here? That’s where you get to live the life of the Trinity and help restore the shalom of God in creation. Where’s the next place you’re going from here? That’s the next place the Spirit is inviting you to help restore the shalom of God in creation, and on and on. In your home. With you family and friends. At work. In your neighborhood. That’s where you get to follow the wind of God, to live the life of the Trinity, to help restore the shalom of God in creation.
She calls:
Without doubt and without fear, May you find some comfort here, May there be hope to help you cope When what you need Is nowhere near
Make your mark unto these years, Shape your world with salt and tears, Carry on when your will has gone, Be it joy or sorrow
Given time, given faith, Given courage to embrace Changes as they each take place, Be it joy or sorrow - Terri Hendrix, Joy or Sorrow
Brad Sullivan 6 Easter, Year B May 6, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston John 15:9-17
Jesus wants us to be joyful…not fearful, lonely, right, or isolated.
Abide in my love, Jesus said, so that my joy may be in your and your joy may be complete. Jesus had all sorts of emotions, just like every other human. Anger, frustration, contempt. Think about how Jesus was with the scribes, the Pharisees, the money changers, his own disciples at times. Jesus was powerful in the extreme, and those emotions and ways of being, anger, frustration, contempt are powerful as well. They were a part of Jesus and they gave him a nudge to start acting or doing things every now and then, and yet rather than choose to act and live out of those powerful emotions, he chose to live in the powerful weakness of love.
The powerful weakness of love is so much more powerful than anger. Love is so much more powerful than frustration. Love is so much more powerful than contempt…and love often feels like weakness. Love is vulnerable. Love doesn’t force the other but offers, guides, leads the other, allowing the other not to follow. Love allows for failure and is not coercive. Love does not belittle or taunt. Love allows for things not to go “my way”, allowing for the needs of the beloved over one’s own desires. Love also trusts in the mutual nature of love such that the beloved will also reciprocate that love, trusting, not forcing.
Jesus could have forced people to do whatever he wanted. When push came to shove, however, he acted not out of his power, not out of anger, frustration, or contempt. Jesus acted instead out of the powerful weakness and trusting nature of love, and he told his disciples to abide in his love, not in any of those other emotions or ways of being. Abide in my love, Jesus said.
Abide in that which ultimately led Jesus to the cross…ok, my sales pitch isn’t really as good as his. Jesus talked about joy, and love allowing our joy to be complete. So, what keeps us from joy? How about fear? How about when, because of our fear, we choose to dwell not in love, but in anger, frustration, and contempt? When we’re afraid, we feel weak, and we want to feel strong, so we often turn to anger, frustration, and contempt. They are powerful, and so when afraid we act out of those things which make us feel powerful, but where do they lead?
To joy? Not so much. Dwelling in and acting out of anger, frustration, and contempt leads to hurt, resentment, loneliness, victimhood, maybe a sense of being right (in a me versus the world kind of way), and a profound lack of joy. We may feel powerful, but we also feel more alone, more fearful, and worse about ourselves. Such is the way of fear and dwelling in power to overcome our fear.
When we choose to abide in Jesus’ love, to make love our home, then we will in all likelihood be led to the cross, to that place of powerful weakness. So when we abide in love and are led to the cross, what gets nailed to that cross? How about being right? How about our hurt and resentment?
Is anyone else here kinda good at hurt and resentment, at being hurt or let down by someone whom we deeply love, and then letting that hurt turn to resentment? It certainly feels strong. Walls up, weapons out, not going to hurt me again, but it never leads to anywhere good. Greater fear and isolation, loneliness, victimhood. It may feel right or righteous, but it certainly doesn’t lead to a place of joy.
Say you’ve got a mini, stay at home date night planned for after the kids are asleep, and your wife falls asleep again putting one of the kids to bed, and instead of your usual feelings of hurt at being stood up again on such an occasion for the exact same reason as usual, you choose instead to be happy for your wife because as tired as she is, she got to get some well needed sleep. (As a top of my head, totally hypothetical example.) Being happy for my wife led me to be joyful amidst the let down, and a little while later, she woke up anyway.
Jesus wants us to joyful, not fearful, lonely, right, and isolated. Jesus wants us to be joyful, and so he taught us to dwell in his love. We dwell in love, we let love lead us to the cross, and we put our hurt and resentment on that cross. Then when someone we love lets us down, we can dwell in love for that person.
When someone we love lets us down, rather than dwelling in hurt and resentment, we get to ask ourselves, “why did they let us down?” Maybe they were overwhelmed. Maybe life just happened. Maybe they were doing their level best and reached a limit in what they could do. Maybe in letting us down, they got something that they really needed, and so rather than being hurt, we can be happy for them. We are talking about someone we love after all. Maybe our hurt can turn to concern for them if it seems that their letting us down came from a place of limit or need on their part. Out of concern, we get to act out of love on their behalf, our hurt and resentment transformed to gladness or concern for the other, and gladness or concern for the other are places of joy, expressed through love.
Abide in Jesus’ love, and we do get led to the cross, so that our fear and hurt may be transformed into joy. Jesus said he wants us to abide in his love so that his joy may be in us and our joy may be complete. I often think of Jesus as so serious and our religion so serious. Anyone else? Christianity is so serious, isn’t it? Jesus died for our sins and rose that we may have life eternal. Jesus lived and showed us his kingdom here on earth and taught us to live out his kingdom here on earth, loving, forgiving, caring for those in need. It’s all so serious, and he was so earnest and serious in his teachings, so at times I tend to forget how darn joyous Jesus was. He hung out with people. He partied. He took delight in children, and found joy and beauty in grass and birds. He didn’t worry about daily struggles because in his kingdom, people take care of each other. When visiting his friends Martha and Mary, it didn’t bother him that the house was a mess or that the meal wasn’t perfectly perfect and on time. He was enjoying being with his friends.
As much as we are earnest in our faith and are intended to take our faith seriously, Jesus didn’t tell us to abide in his love so that our earnestness and seriousness would be complete. Abide in my love, Jesus said, so that “my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete.”
So what does joy look like? Joy looks like forgiveness and compassion leading to a place of peace, of happiness and love for the other. Joy looks like hope and being surrounded by love in the midst of sadness. Joy looks like enjoying time with people in all of our imperfect glory. Joy looks like being cared for and caring for others. Joy looks like the sun coming up every morning and letting that be enough. Joy looks like acceptance, accepting life for what it is and finding the peace, hope, and love in what life is, rather than constantly wishing for life to be something else.
Joy looks like placing the power of our hurt and resentment on the cross and abiding in that place of love. Jesus invites us into his joy, that his joy may be in us. Jesus invites us to abide, to dwell in the powerful weakness of his love so that our joy may be complete.
Brad Sullivan 4 Easter, Year B April 22, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston 1 John 3:16-24 John 10:11-18
Give Grace Amidst Angst, and Be Healed
Life is hard. It’s also great, and we’re in the Easter season, so we’re not going too far down a dark path, but life is, in addition to being great, straight up, plain, old fashioned hard. We have hurts that happen to us from the moment we are born. Fears, feelings of abandonment, loss, and that’s for kids with great parents. People let us down. We let other people down. We lose trust and faith in those we love, disease hits us and nocks whole families down, jobs are lost, security is tenuous, and we hurt and have a hard time reconciling with folks even in the best of circumstances. We end up with a lot of angst.
My desire as a youth was maybe to avoid some of that. In reading scripture back in high school, I had a strong desire to follow God in all his ways, as Jesus told Satan during his temptations in the desert, “love God and serve only him.” Man I wanted to do that, and back in high school it felt like I could, like I could resist temptation, do the right thing, be peaceful, kind, and forgiving to all of those around me. It turns out life was a lot harder than I realized, temptation to soothe life’s hurts far greater than I realized, and I fell pretty far from that ideal. It was never a very realistic ideal, and I would likely only have really achieved it by being aloof, not overly connected to people so that I couldn’t really hurt them and they couldn’t really hurt me. I therefore couldn’t have made a very good friend, husband, father, or priest. I’d have probably ended up as a fairly judgmental person, staying aloof in order to stay, I don’t know…pure, unstained by the world. That’s really just a shield from harm, a shield which causes harm, and it runs totally counter to the Gospel of Jesus in which God refused to stay aloof in guiding us, but became one of us. As such, Jesus knows how hard life is, and he knows first hand that we are all broken-hearted and fearful.
We’re broken hearted, having been harmed by people and things that happen in our lives, and we’re fearful of forgiving those who hurt us, fearful because forgiving means choosing to be wrong ourselves. If we forgive and accept those who are wrong, then we’re almost condoning the wrong and therefore being wrong ourselves. What if God isn’t pleased by that? What a bunch of hooey. Jesus teaches us to be wrong, to accept back one who is/was wrong. Forgiving means letting go of our grief, and rightness, and letting our hurt die. Forgiving means letting go of our sense of control, our shield, and laying down our lives for others.
Forgiveness isn’t easy, like the rest of life, but that place of forgiveness, grace, and love is where Jesus leads us, because it leads us to a place of peace. He shows us forgiveness, grace, and love that we may be freed to love each other. Jesus leads us to the ability and gives us permission to love and be loved, to forgive and be forgiven. Jesus leads us and gives us permission to lay down our hurt, to lay down that which keeps us insular, aloof, and self-protected. In short, Jesus leads us and gives us permission to lay down our lives, for others, thereby find peace. Today we talk about Jesus leading us in these ways as Jesus being the good shepherd, and we call this “Good Shepherd” Sunday. Being good shepherd Sunday, I was going to start off with a quick one liner about how dumb sheep are, something like, “Sheep are dumb.” Then, I decided to actually do a little bit research into whether or not sheep really are stupid, and it turns out, they really aren’t all that dumb. In fact, for quadrupeds, they’re pretty intelligent. They were described instead as intelligent, complex, and sociable. They can recognize people, voices, even facial expressions, and they help each other out and they clearly exhibit emotional responses to the circumstances in their lives, kinda like us.
We’ve often thought of sheep as stupid because they wander off and get lost, kinda like us, or because they can exhibit herd mentality and panic together when they perceive a threat, kinda like us. So, sheep aren’t really all that dumb, they’re kinda like us. It’s easy to discount sheep as dumb, just as it’s easy to discount others as wrong, sinful, bad, whatever else, but Jesus, as our good shepherd, chose not to discount us as dumb, but to lead us as a fellow sheep.
John tells us that Jesus laid down his life for us, and that he most certainly did by becoming human. By becoming human, God showed us, in ways that we could truly understand, something of God’s self in Jesus’ love, forgiveness, grace, and peace. Then again, of course God can be all of those things: loving, forgiving, graceful, peaceful. Jesus showed us God’s character and nature, and he also showed us our own character and nature, or at least our potential character and nature. Jesus showed us that we too can be full of love, forgiveness, grace, and peace.
By becoming human, God laid down his life. Rather than be insular and protected, unhurt and untouched by the terrors of this world, God became human and left himself vulnerable to being hurt, left himself fully immersed in our lives, living with us the joy and the pain that we all feel.
Again, Jesus showed us that we have his permission to love and forgive others. Folks who have messed up in big ways that we could readily name and label, Jesus would lead us to a place of forgiveness, grace, and love, leading to peace. Knowing how hard life is, Jesus would lead us to a place of compassion and understanding, knowing that the harm the person caused was brought about in them by their own fears or the harm that they had endured, or maybe even by following the advice of someone who led them in a bad way, someone who had also been led badly and been harmed.
Life is hard, and knowing this, Jesus knows that even forgiveness is hard, grace is hard, love is hard, and Jesus knows that life is even harder when we keep our shields up, keep resentments with us, dragging us down like a dead albatross around our necks.
Jesus leads us instead to life, peace, joy and greater acceptance and love of ourselves through greater acceptance and love of others. Jesus leads us to freedom from the tyranny of being shielded, right, or resentful. Jesus leads us to grace, forgiveness, and love, knowing that if we follow him to that place, we will be healed. We will be kinder to others, less bothered by the wrong and hurtful things they do and that as a community, we'll be more willing and able to give help to others; their lack of worthiness would not stop us.
This place of forgiveness, grace, and love is not easy, just like the rest of life. We’ll still have the angst of hurt with us. In fact, we can’t have grace without angst. To give grace, to say, “I forgive you, even though I’m still hurting,” there is going to be angst. The grace says, “I love you despite my angst and my broken heart. I see you as hurting and trying your best, and I want to love you as a fellow imperfect person in need of love and grace. I will, therefore, love and accept you and keep working at giving grace and forgiveness, even though doing so causes me angst. That is my burden to bear. That is me laying down my life for you.”
Doing so, following Jesus in that way, leads to life, and peace, and joy. Laying down our lives, laying down our burdens, heals us. Follow me, Jesus says, as a fellow sheep who understands how hard life is, and give grace, amidst your angst, and be healed.
Brad Sullivan Easter Sunday April 1, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston John 20:1-18
Even When the World Tells Us Not To
Happy Easter y’all, as we celebrate Jesus’ resurrection, his victory over death, and the fullness of his great love for us. I love that God joined with us even in death, and then in Jesus’ resurrection, God has shown us the full measure of his grace towards us. We get to share in his eternal life and love, forgiveness and reconciliation.
That’s the nuts and bolts of our faith, we get to share in God’s eternal life and love, forgiveness and reconciliation. I absolutely love our faith, our faith in Jesus and in his resurrection, and I also keep hearing more and more folks who nowadays think we’re kinda nuts for believing in Jesus, or even for believing in a God at all, and that’s fine. To be fair, I don’t know if our faith is true; I can’t prove it, but I love it, and I choose to believe. We choose to believe that there is a God who made us and loves us, frees us and redeems us. We choose to believe that despite our brokenness, God will never quit on us. That is what Jesus’ resurrection means.
God will never quit on us, and yet believing that, we still tend to quit on each other with a fair amount of regularity. I know Lent is over y’all, but such is our condition, our lot in life, that we tend to quit on each other, which is why we need Jesus’ grace and resurrection life in the first place. We start off liking one another and then, we often end up stopping our relationships or letting them slip away. Sometimes it feels like we’re supposed to quit each other for various reasons, such as the insurmountable problems and irreconcilable differences that we face like how we voted in any one single election, our beliefs about those whom we think God may or may not be pleased, how we choose to spend our money, raise our kids, or even how we dress. These are some of the insurmountable barriers that we raise and differences that we face for which we end up quitting each other.
Some in the world may say that division over these differences is ok, but Jesus not so much. We’ve always had differences, reasons why we choose to erect barriers between ourselves and others, but God shows in Jesus’ resurrection that he loves us for who we are, and he wants us to love each other for who we are. Republican. Democrat. Lesbian. Gay. Bisexual. Transgender. Queer. Atheist. Muslim. Jew. Christian. Fundamentalist. Conservative. Liberal. Radical. Black. White. Latino. Asian. Legal. Illegal. Tree hugging, gun loving, gluten free, home-school, hippie.
We have so many labels now, we have a hard time even coming up with enough words to accurately label everyone we see. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that will force us to love each other based on grace and Jesus’ love and resurrection, rather than just by seeming similar enough with some folks to kinda like each other ok. Jesus was raised from the dead to reconcile us to God and each other. His final commandment to his disciples was to love one another, regardless of our stripes, our skin, our labels, our ethnicity, sexuality, beliefs, or legal status. Middle class, high class, low class, no class? “Love one another,” Jesus said.
People are starving for love, even for an ounce of love. People are going to go where they are loved and accepted. Jesus’ resurrection says, “you are loved and accepted,” and yet people often don’t feel loved and accepted in the church, and so they go elsewhere for love and acceptance. We’ve seen this happening as people are leaving the church in droves. Ideologies? Beliefs? Various social activities? Folks can adapt pretty well to many different beliefs, so long as they are loved, and people will stay where they are loved. I’ve often heard adults say they are no longer sure about the faith, but they love the people and community of their church and so they stay. I think Jesus is ok with that.
Lack of faith? Unsure about Jesus and his resurrection? No problem. A loving community can hold a person through doubts and lack of faith. Hopelessness? We can hold a hopeless person in love, and their hope can be restored. That’s why above all else, Jesus commanded us to love each other. That is why Paul wrote that love is greater even than faith and hope, why John wrote that we cannot claim to love God if we do not love each other.
Jesus commanded that we love one another as he loved us, as he loved his disciples. He loved them so much that the first thing he did once he was raised from the dead was to talk to Mary, assure her that he was alive, and to have her spread the good news to the rest of his disciples. Jesus loved his disciples and loves us to the end, and that is the gospel news for us - however messed up we are, Jesus keeps on loving us, and it’s really not because we’re perfect or even good enough. Think about how often Jesus could have and maybe even should have chosen to quit his disciples, get rid of them, and start over with some better ones.
Jesus was transfigured before them, and Peter pipes up, “Hey Jesus - let’s make some booths!” “Seriously Pete, that’s your response? Yeah, ok, we’re done, just um, you stay here, build a transfiguration theme park, something like that. I’m outta here.”
Then there was the time James and John said, “Um, Jesus, we know you’re busy with this whole upcoming death thing, whatever that is, but we want to sit at your right and left hand when you’re all powerful and glorious in majesty. We kinda think we deserve it.” “Oh, so you’ve been listening intently to all that I’ve been saying and teaching over the years. You’ve really taken none of it in at all. Great. Tell you what, go to the next town over, about 4 miles away. Get a couple of chairs so you can sit on either side of me, and we’ll wait right here. No, don’t dawdle, just go and do not look back.”
What about everyone else, the sex workers and thieves, the refuse of society with whom Jesus so often hung out? “Yeah, you guys are really disgusting and foul, I think I’m just going to leave.”
Jesus didn’t do that. He stuck with them. Just like God keeps staying with us and choosing to love us. Despite our continued brokenness, God sticks with us. That’s the resurrection life, which Jesus invites us to share. Do the hard work of continuing to choose to stay together, and do the hard work of continuing to die daily to self so that you can share in his resurrection, not because people are perfect or even good enough, but just because people are, and just because you can choose to love one another. In Jesus’ resurrection, he shows us that we can love and forgive each other; it’s ok. We’re allowed to, and we need to.
We need love. That’s what Jesus resurrection is ultimately all about, God’s unwavering love for us. God is love, and love how Jesus wants us to be with each other. That’s the resurrection life. We are Jesus’ beloved, the one’s for whom he sent Mary to say, “Jesus is raised from the dead,” and so we get to keep loving each other as he loves us. Even the weirdoes and the uber conservatives. Even the crazy hippie liberals and straight laced conformists. Even the sex workers and thieves. It is ok for us to love those whom others may feel are unlovable. It is ok for us to love each other despite how messed up we all are. It is ok for us to believe in Jesus and find hope in his resurrection. We get to do that despite what others may say. Who cares if people think we’re nuts? Our faith tells us to love each other. Jesus sticks with us and wants us to stick with each other, to share in the joy and the love of his resurrection. We have his permission to do so, even if the world tells us not to.
Brad Sullivan 5th Sunday of Lent March 18, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston John 12:20-33
Sleeper Awake (and Quit that Darn Snooze Button)
First of all, I’d like to thank my buddy Patrick Hall for his sermon last Sunday entitled, “Risking Exposure,” which helped draw out of me these words for today. You can look him up, Patrick Hall, and search for his sermon from last Sunday called, “Risking Exposure.”
Now turning to today’s sermon, I’ve recently found that one of the worse inventions ever created is the snooze button. It’s a procrastinator’s dream. You get to put off the day and stay comfy in bed, wrapped in the covers for just a little bit longer, which, if you’re going to do that just set the alarm for 10 minutes later. The big problem with the snooze button is what doesn’t get done because of it, the morning walk or time in prayer, the rushing through a morning that could have been more peaceful.
Ok, so as non-horrific and only mildly annoying as that may sound, what about when we begin hitting the snooze button on life? I know I need to do this thing now. I know it’s important. I know it’s where I need to go in life, but I really just want to stay as I am, so I’ll put it off. Snooze.
When the Greeks came to see Jesus, that was an alarm going off for him. As soon as he heard that a couple of Greeks wished to see him, Jesus immediately told his disciples, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified,” aka, it’s time for me to go get arrested and killed. Why was the fact that a couple Greeks wanted to talk to him an alarm clock for Jesus? Perhaps because they were Gentiles, and Jesus realized that in order for his mission to extend to the Gentiles, he had to die and be raised, and the Holy Spirit to come upon his disciples so that they could all continue his work and grow his Kingdom here on earth. Perhaps it was simply some pre-ordained signal given to Jesus by his Father. “Now son, when a couple of Greeks come to talk to you, that’s when it’s time.”
In any case, as soon as that alarm went off, Jesus hopped out of bed, and immediately began preparing his disciples for his coming death. He told them that a grain of wheat must fall into the earth and die so that it could bear much fruit, rather than just stay as it is. Jesus was talking about his Kingdom and the resurrection life within his kingdom both after this life, and in his kingdom life here on earth.
Long before our deaths, we have alarm clocks going off, telling us that it is time for the Kingdom life here on earth, letting us know there are conditions and situations in our lives which need to die to let the Kingdom life happen. We need to let go of an old resentment. We need to stop drinking. We need to stop going halfway with our faith and fully embrace the way of Jesus. We need to let a past relationship go, or we need to stop fooling ourselves that we are ok as we are and admit to just how broken we really are. We all have alarm clocks going off letting us know that it is time to let that condition or situation die, and we hear the alarm, we know what we need to do, that it is time to get up out of bed, that shadow of the tomb, and let die what needs to die, but instead, we hit the snooze button and stay as we are, assuming we can manage life as it is, assuming we can try harder, do better, and largely stay as we are. This is of course untrue, and we simply wait for the next alarm, keeping our whole lives in the shadow of death, rather than waking up, getting out of bed, and placing that part of our lives that needs death into the tomb.
Why do we do this over and over? Why, when we hear Jesus calling us to let something in our lives die, do we keep hitting that blasted snooze button? We could say lack of trust or lack of belief, fear at facing the new day without whatever part of us we need to let go, or sometimes we’re just so comfortable as we are, even if it’s not working, we’re just so comfortable lying in bed with the covers drawn up, that we don’t want to move. We don’t want to change, because it’s just too hard to get up out of bed, when we know we’ve got that snooze alarm ready to come around again.
The problem is that with this snooze alarm, is that in life, it only makes getting out of bed even harder. We become more engrained in the life we have, and even though we know life is not working, the thought of risking change becomes intolerable. Facing the new day is far too daunting, and we are far too tired, so we hit the darn snooze button again.
Perhaps then, we need to start going to bed earlier, so we’re not so tired in the morning, and the thought of facing the new day doesn’t seem so daunting. By going to bed earlier, I mean intentionally following practices of prayer, of scripture reading, of service to others, setting aside intentional time each day for prayer, learning more and more to trust in Jesus and thereby to be rested enough so that the alarm is not a horrid sound, but an invitation from a trusted friend.
We also need to do these prayer and scripture practices, this service others not only by ourselves, but also in community with others who can help us learn to trust in Jesus more. We need to admit to those prayer, scripture, and service partners, why we keep hitting the snooze button. We need to admit to them and to ourselves what is keeping us in bed so that they can give us extra support so that we can get up out of bed in the morning, knowing we have others to help us face the world without the things we need to let die. We need help putting things in the tomb. We need folks with us at the funeral, and we need those folks with us to help us through the new life as our lives are remade by Jesus, as his fruit begins to grow.
It is a daunting task to let die within us that which Jesus is calling us to let die, and that snooze button is so tempting, but what is waiting for us when we get out of bed is the resurrection life of Jesus’ kingdom here on earth. The love of Jesus, the life of Jesus, the forgiveness and grace of Jesus all both received from Jesus and then given by us to others, that is what we are putting off every time we hit that thrice blasted snooze button. His Kingdom. His resurrection life. His grace and forgiveness, a new life unbound by that which keeps us asleep. That is what is waiting for us.
“Sleeper awake,” Jesus calls. “Quit that darn snooze button, and get out of bed, that shadow of death. Let die within you that which needs to die, and follow me.”
Brad Sullivan 3rd Sunday of Lent March 4, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston John 2:13-22
Wreck It Rabbi
One of my kids’ and my favorite movies is an animated movie called, “Wreck It Ralph.” Ralph is a video game character, a bad guy whose catch phrase is, “I’m gonna wreck it,” and in this movie, the video game characters are kind of alive and interact with each other when they are off stage, when no one is playing the game. Ralph’s game is a game called Fix It Felix in which Ralph is, again, the bad guy, except that he doesn’t want to be the bad guy. He’s good hearted, but in the game, his job is to destroy a high rise apartment building, and as he does, the tenants shout “Fix It Felix”, and the hero, Fix It Felix comes along and fixes everything that Ralph destroys. So, everyone kinda hates Ralph, then as the movie goes on, they all realize that without Ralph, no one would play their game, and through the rest of the plot, we find that Wreck It Ralph is actually a hero, doing a lot of fixing of some bad things going on through his propensity for wrecking. Spoiler alert, by the end of the movie, they’re all friends.
So, in our Gospel story today, when Jesus overturns the tables of the money changers in the Temple and drives out the animals that were being sold there, he’s kind of like Wreck It Rabbi. He saw the animals and the money changers in the Temple, and he wrecked it. The people were pretty stunned saying, “What the heck just happened?”, eventually calling out, “Fix It Pharisees.”
Well, most of our Bibles probably say, “Jesus cleanse[d] the Temple.” If you’ve got a Bible that has little subject titles inserted in the text, then that insertion, that editor’s note, probably says, “Jesus cleanses the Temple.” It’s cute and catchy as titles go, but here’s the problem, Jesus wasn’t cleansing anything. See the animals and money changers, they were all supposed to be there. The blood sacrifice of animals was part of the temple worship, given as offerings to God for a variety of reasons, including forgiveness of sins. If you didn’t have the best or the right kind of animal of your own, well then you could purchase one. This was all prescribed in the law of Moses. So the people in weren’t making the temple dirty. They were doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing as prescribed in the law of Moses. The problem was that the system was broken. People were stuck under the weight of trying to manage their sin with God through animal sacrifice, and all of that time and effort and resources which could have gone to improving the lives of each other, went instead to trying to appease a seemingly angry God.
So, Jesus was not cleansing the Temple. He was reforming it. He was kinda taking a wrecking ball to his religion, actually, but he was following a long tradition of prophets and psalmists who kept saying over and over, “quit with this animal sacrifice stuff. The temple should be a place of prayer, and seriously, God doesn’t need any goats, or sheep, or cows, or doves. He made them; they are his already.” As the prophet Micah wrote: Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with tens of thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?’ ‘With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt-offerings, with calves a year old? He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? Micah 6:7, 6, 8
Do justice. Love kindness. Walk humbly with God. That’s what Wreck It Rabbi wanted for Temple worship. That’s what Wreck It Rabbi wants for our lives, and he is happy to wreck whatever gets in the way of that. Sometimes our worship getsbtoo performance based, with people getting very upset if someone makes a mistake in the movement or words of the worship. Wreck It Rabbi comes in and says, “this is supposed to be a house of prayer, not a theater company.” Sometimes folks get angry with children making noise, and Wreck It Rabbi comes in and says, “Let the little children come to me, for the kingdom of God belongs to them.” Sometimes we get so caught up in all that we do to prepare for our worship, that we end up thinking that our primary ministry is here, to prepare for our time here, and Wreck It Rabbi comes in and says, “Go in peace to love and serve me, in those you encounter outside of here, for that is your true worship.”
As Jesus comes along and wrecks things, disrupting our worship time, we sometimes get calls of “Fix It Father” from those who have been disrupted. Sometimes, it isn’t Jesus disrupting things, and we really do need to fix it. Other times, Wreck It Rabbi may want us to be disrupted, taking us out of our comfort and our routine in order to wake us up to see him in our lives beyond the Temple, the church, the worship.
By reforming the Temple, in the story we heard today, Wreck It Rabbi reminds us that our lives are not meant to lead us to worship. We don’t spend our time preparing ourselves to be worthy enough to worship God in just the right way. We spend time in worship and prayer to heal our hearts so that we can do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. That’s God’s desire for us. Our truest offerings during prayer and worship are the offerings of our hearts. Whatever is holding us back from doing justice and loving kindness, that is what we offer to God.
In the Morning Prayer service, there is a prayer called, “A Collect for Saturdays,” and I love this prayer except for one word, “sanctuary.” “Almighty God, who after the creation of the world rested from all your works and sanctified a day of rest for all your creatures: Grant that we, putting away all earthly anxieties may be duly prepared for the service of your sanctuary…” (BCP p. 99) Wait a minute. Is there anything we can do to make us righteous enough before God to be worthy enough to come near to the holy place where God dwells? No. We aren’t going to make ourselves more righteous than Jesus already has.
Wreck It Rabbi has no interest in gospels of sin management that keep us down under the heavy burden of fearing an angry God who feels that we are never good enough for him. That’s part of why he and the prophets took a wrecking ball to the animal sacrifice system of Temple worship, and thankfully, Wreck It Rabbi continues to wreck our worship and our ways of life whenever gospels of sin management keep us down, fearing an angry God, rather than trusting in Jesus’ Gospel of light and grace which tells us we are beloved children of a loving God, and that we are worthy to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God.
So, that prayer, then, that collect for Saturdays? I’ve changed that word “sanctuary” to “kingdom.” No we pray, “Almighty God, who after the creation of the world rested from all your works and sanctified a day of rest for all your creatures: Grant that we, putting away all earthly anxieties may be duly prepared for the service of your kingdom…” That is what our rest is for. That is what our worship and prayer is for, so that we may be duly prepared for the service of God’s kingdom, doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God.
What does that look like? Well, that’s going to be a bit different for all of us. For me, one of my passions is children and schools. I was at a meeting of faith leaders on Thursday morning with the HISD superintendent, Richard Carranza, and School Board president, Rhonda Skillern-Jones, among the topics discussed, they invited us to come to a training on March 29 to learn about how best to partner churches with schools to have folks be mentors for kids, to address the needs that principals tell us are there, and to be a part of the village that raises up kids in our community. You can bet I’m going to be there at that meeting because that’s my passion. That’s the broken thing that Wreck It Rabbi has given me a passion for where I would like to do justice, and love kindness, and walk humbly with God.
What about you? What broken thing has Wreck It Rabbi given you a passion for? What broken thing is Jesus calling you to fix? That’s why we’re here. Wreck It Rabbi has brought us here this morning to strengthen us, to heal our hearts, and to remind us that we are beloved children of a loving God so that as we leave this place, we may have eyes to see the broken places and systems of our world and say, “I’m going to wreck it,” and through that wrecking, to fix it, doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God.
Brad Sullivan Ash Wednesday February 14, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
Choosing to Love…Without All the Time in the World
I was on Facebook this morning as I am every morning, about to start Morning Prayer, which I pray on Facebook so others can join in praying together, and as I was about to start, I noticed a friend’s updated status (a priest friend of mine). The status was a question and an answer. “So, do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” “I’m going to go to work and remind everyone of their inevitable death.” Happy Valentash Wednesday, everyone. I loved that status update because…well, I love that kind of humor, and because it is so true. Maybe a bit maudlin, I’ll grant you, but we really are here on Ash Wednesday to remind ourselves of our inevitable death, and of the hope that goes with it.
We can only really come to that hope of life in and through and beyond death when we first face and accept death. So many people fear death or try to deny death, and yet death is the one true, inescapable destiny of the human condition. Death is also the great equalizer. In the grave, as we return to the dust, there are no rich or poor, no righteous or unrighteous. Death deals with all equally, as the psalmist says in Psalm 62, “Those of low estate are but a breath, those of high estate are a delusion; in the balances they go up; they are together lighter than a breath.”
Even so, as humans, we’re generally not all that great fans of death. Many of us try to stave it off as long as possible, we try to build up security for ourselves so we can die on our own terms, we fight wars and kill other people in order to prevent our own deaths, and yet without question, everyone is going to face death. Living in fear of death or trying to deny death, we end up imprisoned by death, so much energy and life wasted in an effort to stave off or deny the inevitable. Accepting death, however, and accepting the life that continues on through Jesus’ resurrection, we can be freed from death’s hold over us. All of us go down to the grave, yet even at the grave, we make our song, “Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!” Death still stings, but by accepting it, we can live with death and with hope.
Accepting death, we might be able to accept more readily the miraculous nature of our bodies. We start as dust and we end as dust. Our bodies are comprised entirely of things that didn’t used to be our bodies. Every cell and atom in our bodies used to be something else, some other part of creation, and then as we began to be formed in our mothers’ wombs, all of the formerly other stuff became organized for a time as our bodies. Our bodies remain organized in this way for a time, and then they die and decay. The stuff that was our bodies is disintegrated, and becomes something else. From dust we are made, and to dust we shall return.
We aren’t in these bodies for all that long, as Psalm 90 says, “The span of our life is seventy years, perhaps in strength even eighty; yet the sum of them is but labor and sorrow, for they pass away quickly and we are gone.” Ash Wednesday reminds us of this fact. As we put ashes on our heads and remember our mortal nature, we are offered no escape from death, no denying the fleeting nature of our bodies. In Ash Wednesday, there is also no denying the hope we have in Jesus, that whether we live or we die, we are the Lord’s. As the Lord’s, we continue on in life, even after our mortal bodies return to the dust. Trusting in that, trusting in God’s continual care for our lives even after our bodies die, we are free to live without fear and denial of death. Accepting the ephemeral nature of our lives, accepting that we are dust, and to dust we shall return, we can cherish our bodies and we can cherish each other even more.
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return may not be the best selling Valentine’s Day ever, but such a message actually is a message of profound love. If our lives continued on forever, then choosing to share our lives and love with each other would mean far less. If things didn’t work out in a relationship, we’d have all the time in the world to try with someone else. As it is, we don’t have all the time in the world, and so choosing to share our lives and love with people is a tremendous gift and something to be cherished. As transitory as this life is, I choose to live it with you, family, friends, loved ones. I choose to cherish you while you inhabit that body, and I choose love you, trusting that through God’s eternal life, not even the heartache of death will end the love and communion we share. I choose to cherish and share my life with you knowing that we are all dust, and to dust we shall all return. Maybe it’s not such a bad Valentine’s Day card after all.
Brad Sullivan Last Sunday after the Epiphany February 11, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston 2 Corinthians 4:3-6 Mark 9:2-9
God Is In the Grind
Have you ever been outside walking around and then looked up and been startled, scared even, by a hideous, almost other worldly beast staring at you with hungry eyes, vicious teeth, and razor sharp claws, only to have your eyes refocus and realize you were in fact looking at a tree branch? The tree branch didn’t change, only how your eyes saw the tree branch changed. I wonder if that isn’t something like what happened to Peter and James and John with the transfiguration. Rather than Jesus changing before their eyes, perhaps what changed was their eyes’ ability to see for a few minutes something they had not previously been able to see: the radiance and majesty of the light of Jesus. Perhaps even, Moses and Elijah had been there previously as well, unseen and unheard by Peter, and James, and John, until God changed something within them and allowed them to see and experience more of the world than any of us are able to see or experience with our regular senses.
Perhaps Jesus took Peter, and James, and John up to the mountain top in order to change something of their ability to see and experience the world for a short time, so that they saw not only the majesty of Jesus, but also the majesty of God’s kingdom in which those who have died are still alive and well with God, and the world. Perhaps then, when God turned the dimmer switch back down on Jesus and Moses and Elijah disappeared, what they had seen on the mountain didn’t cease to be, but only their ability to see it. As beautiful and wonderful as the world is then, what they saw for a short time was that the world is far more beautiful than they or we could ever have imagined.
Little wonder then that they wanted to make booths and stay there. In any mountain top experience, any jaw dropping, mind blowing, beautiful experience of our lives, we tend to want to stay in that moment, rather than come back down to earth to the drudgery of daily life. As much as we like to poke fun at Peter for seemingly always saying the wrong thing, I have a feeling we’d have all wanted to stay up on the mountain a little while longer as well.
I wonder then how Peter, and James, and John saw the world once they came back down the mountain. Did the world seem dull by comparison? Maybe, but I sure hope not. I hope instead that after Jesus’ transfiguration, the world seemed to Peter, and James, and John to be alight with possibility and alive with wonder. I hope they realized that everything they saw up on that mountain was still there in the regular old mundane world, just simply hidden from their eyes.
I would say that’s the reason for any mountain top experience, any jaw dropping, mind blowing, beautiful realization of the majesty of God and his kingdom all around us. We’re never meant to stay on top of the mountain. The only reason we go up the mountain to see Jesus transfigured before us is so that we can come down the mountain and also see Jesus in the miracle of the mundane, the non-dopamine laced divinity of the daily drudge. Every moment is a possibility for love and wonder. Every person we see is a beautiful miracle of God’s design, made with the spark of God’s image and the dust of our common humanity out of which we are all made and to which we all go. We go up the mountain in order to come down, realizing Jesus is just as transfigured at the bottom of the mountain as at the top, even if we can’t see it
Bishop Doyle writes similarly in his book, The Jesus Heist: (p. 67) The only reason to come into a community [for worship] is so you can learn how to leave it and do the real work of worship - being with Christ in the world around us. This is how we show the love of God - we go and love people, heal people, care for people, live with people, eat with people. We go and discover where Jesus is in the world and join his work there.
Whether the mountain, or church service, or any experience we have of the divine, we’re never meant to stay, we’re meant to live, and we’re meant to realize that the rest of our lives are every bit as sacred. As mundane as our lives may seem at times, they and we are all part of something bigger and far more beautiful than we can see or imagine.
Something as simple as a kind gesture. Giving a cup of cold water to a kid who is thirsty, as Jesus said…or an old person who is thirsty for that matter. Going to work or school each day at a job that does not satisfy or an education that seems pointless, God is there just as much as on the mountain top in the miracle of the mundane.
What in us keeps us from seeing the miracle of the mundane and the divinity of the daily drudge? How about our wounds? How about our desires to make the world be how we want it rather than to accept the world as it is? What if we were to give some of those wounds and desires to God so that he might heal them and transform us so that we could see the miracle of the mundane and the divinity of the daily drudge?
That’s kinda what Lent is all about, which we start this Wednesday. That is why we give things up during Lent, and so my suggestion is this: rather than give up something simple like Diet Coke or Chocolate, try giving up some of your woundedness which keeps you from seeing the miracle of the mundane. Try giving up some of your desires for control which keep you from seeing the divinity of the daily drudge…or perhaps, do try giving up something as mundane as Diet Coke or Chocolate and see the miracle of the world in even so simple a sacrifice.
In any case, realize that the sacrifice, like the mountain top, like the community gathering for worship is not the point, is not where we stay. The sacrifice, like the mountain top, like the community gathering for worship is done so that we can then come back down the mountain, leave the gathering for worship and “do the real work of worship - to show the love of God by loving people, healing people, caring for people, living with people, eating with people: going and discovering where Jesus is in the [mundane] everyday world and joining his work there,” for God is in the work, the common work of eating with people, living with people, working with people, getting angry with and reconciling with people, caring for people, healing people, loving people, and seeing people as brothers and sisters. That is the work where God is at the bottom of the mountain.
God is in the grind of daily life. Realizing that truth, trusting that God is in the grind just as much as on the mountain, we can spend the grind in worship and prayer, in communion with God, every moment a miracle, every step a sacred act, resting in God’s presence, even in the mundanity of daily life, for God is in the grind.
Brad Sullivan 2 Epiphany, Year B January 14, 2018 Emmanuel, Houston John 1:43-51
The Families of the Earth Can Be Blessed Through You
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” I love this question of Nathanael’s partly because it appeals to my snarky side, and also because the obvious answer is supposed to be “no.” Nazareth was a Podunk little sparrow fart town. The messiah was not supposed to come from there, and further, at least in Nathanael’s mind nothing good could come from such a crummy place. Nathanael would have rather written off Jesus and anyone from Nazareth. Let’s leave those people there, and go on and hope for the messiah to come from somewhere important. God just wasn’t playing Nathanael’s little game of making sure things looked good enough on the outside to stroke his ego. “Sorry Nate,” God said. “I know you want to be associated with a Messiah from somewhere awesome, but I’m not here to inflate your sense of self importance. I’m here to bring about my kingdom of love, grace, and truth, and that includes places like Nazareth, and other little sparrow fart town and countries.”
When we get tied up in the place, the location where greatness is supposed to be, where we think God is supposed to be, God just says, “Oh you silly humans; I’m not in any one place. I’m in all places, and like the Psalm says, even and especially with those people and places whom you often deem too lowly to matter.” So while the obvious answer is “no, nothing good can come from the proverbial Nazareth,” God’s response is “come and see.”
Nathanael reluctantly does, “Fine, we’ll go see your crummy Messiah,” and Jesus tells him something pretty huge. First he convinces him that he is someone worth hanging around and listening to, and then he tells Nathanael, “You will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”
This is of course alluding to Jacob’s ladder, the story in Genesis where Jacob (who would later be renamed Israel) was sleeping outside and he had a dream of the heaven’s opened up and the angels of God ascending and descending upon a ladder to heaven. In the dream, God spoke to Jacob and told him,
all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring. Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.’ Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, ‘Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!’ And he was afraid, and said, ‘How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.’
This promise of God indeed came to pass. Jacob was renamed Israel, and from him and his children came the people of Israel, the laws and ways of God, the prophets, and Jesus himself. So, when Jesus told Nathanael “You will see heaven opened and the angles of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man,” he was telling Nathanael that families of the earth shall be blessed in you and your offspring (children, disciples, people whom you will teach about me and my ways). “You, Nathanael, can be like a new Jacob. God’s mission of healing humanity, of reconciliation to each other and to God can be lived out through you, Nathanael, and not only that, families of the earth will be blessed through you and through those who come after you. Through you, Nathanael,” Jesus was saying, “the salvation that I offer, the life of God’s love, grace, and truth, can be known and lived and passed on to others, and families of the earth will be blessed through you and through those who come after you.”
You may notice, however, that there aren’t too many St. Nate churches. “Through you, Nathanael, families of the earth will be blessed,” and yet we hear very little about Nathanael after this. Most of what he did was not recorded in the pages of history, and yet through this seemingly unimportant man, families of the earth were blessed. Like Nathanael, most of our names will not be written in the stars or even in the pages of history, and yet, the families of the earth can be blessed through each of us. We can all be like a new Jacob, people of the earth blessed through us and those who come after us, as we live out Jesus’ ways and share with them his kingdom of love, grace, and truth.
Further, the kingdom of God can indeed come from Nazareth, or any other sparrow fart nothing of a place because God does not dwell only in one place, like the place where Jacob was. Indeed, the dwelling place of God was in Jesus himself, with the angels ascending and descending on him. The dwelling place of God is within all of creation and within humanity itself: you, me, the important people from great places, and the lowly schlebs from sparrow far places like Nazareth and flooded out shells of buildings.
We are Emmanuel, and God is with us. God dwells with us and within us. We can live out God’s kingdom of love, grace, and truth anywhere, and through us God can bless the people of West Houston and beyond to truly the ends of the earth. As far as we can go and as many come to know and follow Jesus through us, God can bless the people of the earth.
Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Can anything good come out of this little flooded out gathering of Jesus’ friends? Come and see.
Brad Sullivan 2 Christmas, Year B December 31, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston John 1:1-18
The Questioners, the Loners, the Kids with Behavior Problems…
Over the weekend, a priest friend of mine and I talking and joking together about challenges of church life, and she said, “Yeah, church would be great if it wasn’t for all the people.” It’s a common joke about the imperfections of the Church which is the ecclesia (or gathering) of Jesus’ friends. Jesus’ ecclesia of friends began as a rather rag tag group of also-rans, the island of misfit toys type folks who needed and wanted the love and belonging which Jesus was offering. Being a rag tag group of folks, the church was always an imperfect bunch, and that proud tradition has continued on to this day.
As the church, the ecclesia, the gathering of Jesus’ friends we’re a group of people who follow in Jesus’ ways, except when we don’t. We love well, giving compassion to those who really need it, to those whose lives have been shattered and need someone to sit with them among the broken pieces of their life and slowly begin sweeping them up and putting the pieces back together. That is, except for when we don’t love well for a variety of reasons, when our own lives just aren’t up to it, or when our own brokenness prevents us from seeing the broken person in front of us as a person, and we instead just see a broken thing.
As Jesus’ ecclesia, his gathering of friends, we love God and love people above all else. That’s our way of being. Some friends of mine recently told me that in their efforts to love God and people above all else, they’ve been going through their house get rid of anything that they would be really upset about if it was broken by a child…or an adult. They want their home to be a place of love, where adults and children know they are loved, and that they are loved more than the stuff in their house. That’s a great model for the church, where we love God and love people above all else, except of course when, in our efforts to love God, we end up loving things, and we place that love of things in front of loving people. It happens. The church is imperfect because it is irrevocably peopled with people.
In John’s Gospel this morning, we heard that the Word of God, which is God, is also the life and light of all, and that the Word of God became human, as Jesus, and lived among us as one of us. That was really his first mistake, wasn’t it? The Word of God already had a perfect ecclesia going, a perfect gathering of beloved friends with the Father and the Holy Spirit. This perfect ecclesia remained perfect until the Word became flesh and lived among us. Then, Jesus joined us to the ecclesia of God, along with all of our imperfections. That’s kind of the beauty of it. If God had wanted a perfect ecclesia, then I suppose he wouldn’t have become human at all. We wouldn’t celebrate Christmas, and there would be no baby Jesus, or adult Jesus, or even teenage angsty Jesus. There would just be the perfect ecclesia of God, without humanity, but God didn’t want that perfect ecclesia, a perfect church. God wanted the ecclesia of Jesus’ friends, the church, the gathering with humanity, along with all of our imperfections, even if that meant that we mucked things up a bit. So, “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”
In becoming human and living among us, God showed us his love for us, not his desire for us to be perfect. I mean, I suppose it’d be nice, but God showed that he loves us, warts and all. He then formed the church, the ecclesia or gathering of Jesus’ friends, so that we could further share his love for people, warts and all. Jesus wanted not a perfect ecclesia, but an ecclesia that shared his heart for people and his willingness to sacrifice personal comfort and convenience (and quite a bit more than that) for the sake of people…especially the ones no one else seemed to care that much about.
The questioners, the loners, the kids with behavior problems. Seek them out, invite them in, and love them more than your stuff, Jesus has taught his church, and be willing to sacrifice your personal comfort and convenience for their sake.
The people who don’t have life figured out and have spent their life mucking it up for themselves. The people who have life figured out and learned from a young age that life is harsh and cruel. The people who have been rejected by their peers, rejected by society, rejected by their church or family. Seek them out, invite them in, and love them more than your stuff, Jesus has taught his church, and be willing to sacrifice your personal comfort and convenience for their sake.
The people who aren’t like us, who make us uncomfortable, whose very existence disrupts our world, shattering the illusions we created to make our world seem safe. The people whose need is greater than we can provide, whose loneliness and despair are deeper than we can see, and whose desire for connection and companionship is greater and more beautiful than even they are aware. Seek them out, invite them in, and love them more than your stuff, Jesus has taught his church, and be willing to sacrifice your personal comfort and convenience for their sake.
We’re not going to fix every problem or make any lives perfect. The lives of all people still have that one flaw in them, that all lives involve people and are therefore irrevocably messed up, messed up just like the church, the ecclesia, gathering of Jesus’ friends, and Jesus didn’t form his ecclesia of friends in order to make a perfect institution. Jesus formed his church, his gathering of friends, in order to share with us his light, because he simply wanted us to be a part of the life of communion shared between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and so with all our imperfections, we reach out with that same light to others, and we sit with them in their imperfections, not to make them perfect, not necessarily to fix them, but simply to dwell with them, to shine some light into the darkness of their lives, and to join in communion with them, becoming friends, and joining together in the Church, ecclesia, the gathering, of Jesus’ friends.
Brad Sullivan 3 Advent, Year B December 17, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24 John 1:6-8, 19-28
That Someone Greater Is Jesus, and that Something Greater is Love
So, John the Baptist really upset the uber religiousy folks of his time, didn’t he? He was there, baptizing folks to testify to the Light of God, to lead people into repentance from the ways they were living that harmed themselves or others, and to prepare their hearts for the coming of God’s kingdom. That sounds like a good thing, something folks could pretty well get behind, but the priests, the Levites, and the Pharisees, they were having none of it. The priests and Levites were the ones with primary responsibility for the Temple worship, and the Pharisees were a group within Israel, focused on upholding the religious laws and rules of Israel.
You might thing that such religious type folks would be glad to see someone taking their faith seriously, calling people to repentance, but not so. The priests, Levites, and Pharisees were questioning John, basically wondering, “Who gave you the right or the authority to be out here baptizing?” “Are you the Messiah, Elijah, the Prophet? No? Well then explain yourself. What gives you the right or the authority to be out here baptizing folks?” You can hear in their questions the fear that their power and authority might be questioned. John wasn’t authorized by them, so there was this fear that their way of living and leading their religion was being questioned or even undermined.
So, John responded, “I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” In other words, John was saying, “This baptism that I’m doing, guys, it ain’t nothing to get your knickers in a twist over. You wonder about my authority and the things I’m doing…oh, just you wait. I know you guys love the way you live out our religion and that you love having authority over our religion, but this whole salvation thing, God’s grace and favor, isn’t going to be only for you few uber religious types. Truth be told, God’s grace and favor never was reserved only for you uber religious types. God’s grace and favor is offered to all, and if you have your knickers in a twist because I offered a baptism of repentance to those you deem unworthy, just wait till God decides to sit down and eat with them.”
Ok, so I suppose if we’re being honest and fair, the way of the priests, Levites, and Pharisees to live and lead their religion was being questioned…
…and if we’re being honest and fair, we see this played out again and again in the church as well. There was the reformation. That was a pretty big questioning of how the Roman Catholic hierarchy was doing things. Even now, today, we have a change going on in our religion. Folks who want to love God and people but aren’t really religious. Some have been pushed out of the church (big C Church, worldwide) because of various ways of life which others within the church deem unworthy of Jesus. Some have left the church because they have a passion for loving and serving people and they see the majority of the time, energy, and money of the church going almost exclusively to worship and building which serve the church primarily and others as an afterthought. We see folks today within the church following news practices, old practices, new ways of living out our faith with a greater emphasis on serving others than on expensive, well-rehearsed and polished corporate worship.
These changes, this turning around, this repentance, has left some of the traditional religious types none too happy. There has been division and splintering. Repentance, by its very nature, causes division.
The fact that repentance causes division is not a bad thing. John’s baptism caused, or revealed division. That’s not a bad thing. Such cause for or revealing of division is necessary. It hurts, and it is ok, so long as it is followed by something or someone greater. Someone greater than I is coming, John said. Something greater than repentance is coming. That someone is Jesus, and that something is love.
In Revelation chapter 2, [and now I’ve got your attention, right? Oh my God, preacher man’s gone to Revelation! Now things are getting real.], in Revelation chapter 2, Jesus gave this message to the church in Ephesus: ‘I know your works, your toil and your patient endurance. I know that you cannot tolerate evildoers; you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them to be false. I also know that you are enduring patiently and bearing up for the sake of my name, and that you have not grown weary. But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first (Revelation 2:2-4) The church in Ephesus, they were working on repentance. They were trying to stop evildoers within their church from causing harm. They had done well, Jesus was saying. They had stopped some of the harm by those causing harm, but their repentance had led to division, and they had lost the love they had for each other.
Repentance will almost inevitably bring division, hurt, strife. If we leave things there, we end up with fracture, splitting, us versus them, winners and losers, permanent division. Repentance is good. John’s baptism was good. After John’s baptism, however, came someone greater, Jesus. After repentance comes something greater, love.
Even in the midst of repentance, we need to make sure that the presence of love is what drives us. With repentance, are we making ourselves clean of others, removing others so that we look or feel better? Are we concerned with our own righteousness before God, or are we concerned with how well we love and serve others? Remember, our righteousness before God has been taken care of by Jesus on the cross. We’re not going to make ourselves any more righteous before God than Jesus already has. His love for us is greater than our repentance. In our repentance, we’re not seeking to be righteous before God. In our repentance, we are seeking amendment of our ways and healing of our hearts so that we may more fully love others.
Repentance is of course, not the only thing that can cause division within a church. Sometimes division is also caused by flood waters drowning a church building, and groups of people end up divided over how they want rebuilding to happen. With rebuilding, just like with repentance, such divisions are inevitable. We all care deeply for our church home, for what our church home is going to be and for how we are going to get there, and surprise, surprise, we’re all different. I think Jesus is glad we’re all so different. The body of Christ is as varied as humanity. I think Jesus is glad that we care so deeply. We are a caring and loving people, and we want our building back so that we can serve others in our community. We’re still able to worship. It’s not exactly our home, but we’re still able to worship.
What we don’t have is our building as a resource to serve the needs of the community around us, and so I think Jesus is inspiring all of us to want to rebuild, to want to do so well, and to want to do so in a way that will serve not just our worship and fellowship needs, but will serve the needs of the community around us. We all have different ideas, passions, and dreams for how we are to get there, and I think Jesus is glad for that too. Only this Jesus would have against us, if we were to let those differing desires truly divide us and if we were to abandon the love which we had at first.
Our vestry has worked hard with the diocese to get us back into our building, and they have not done so in the exact way previous vestries might have. Might, because we’ve never had this situation before. Our current vestry has worked not in the way previous vestries might have, but in the way this vestry has. What I have observed of the vestry and planning workstream tasked with getting us back into our building, is that they have worked faithfully, they have worked with integrity, and they have worked well.
This post-Harvey life is a season of forced repentance for us, a prolonged season of turning around, of changing our ways, because our church building was drowned. We will not be what we were. We will be something new, a new people by water and the spirit. We will have division along with way, as is inevitable with repentance, but remember, we’re not seeking righteousness before God, but the healing of our hearts so that we may love more fully. We must not abandon the love which we had at first, for something and someone greater than repentance is here binding us together. That someone is Jesus, and that something is love.
Brad Sullivan 1 Advent, Year B December 3, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Mark 13:24-27
A Tale of Two Households
When Jesus told his parable about the master of a household going away on a journey and leaving his servants in charge of the household while he was gone, telling them to keep awake and be ready for his return, Jesus was talking about how his disciples were to live once he was crucified, as they waited for him to come again at the end of time and restore all of creation. Rather than try to tease out each drop of meaning from each detail of his parable, I thought I’d expand on the parable and see where it leads, in order to develop Jesus’ point in telling the parable. I call this “A Tale of Two Households.”
There was a master of a large household, almost like a small kingdom, with herds of cows, flocks of sheep, chickens, a vast and productive farm, and the members of the master’s household, servants and family alike, worked together to keep all of the household going. All who could worked hard. Those who could not were cared for by the rest, and even they, those who could not work, cared for the others through their nurture, storytelling, kindness and compassion. The household had an abundance of what was needed, and they shared what they had with other households when they were in need, without asking for anything in return. Far away, there was another household which, from time to time, suffered from droughts, and they would send for help from the master’s household. Help was again given, without grumbling, but gladly, freely, with goodwill and love.
Then, one day, the master told his household that he would be going away for a while. He told them all to continue on as they had when he was there, to care for each other, and provide for others out of their abundance. “Keep awake,” he said. For a time they did so, but then weeks turned into seasons, and seasons turned into years, and they began to fall asleep.
Some remained dutiful in their tasks while others didn’t see the point with the master no longer around. They thought they wouldn’t receive their just reward or that the land and property should really be theirs. Some stopped working. Others began to elevate themselves above everyone else, claiming to be in charge and forcing some to work for them.
Others wanted to keep a remembrance of the Master and built a shrine to him. They didn’t really follow in his ways, but they lit candles and prayed for his safe return. Then of course, they felt the shrine needed to be kept up, and so they enlisted some of those who had stopped working to help with the upkeep of the shrine. Others found hope in their shrine and prayers, so they brought food and other necessities to the workers of the shrine so that they could keep up their good work.
The household was no longer a place of abundance, but they still thought of themselves as such. They remembered when others would come and receive from their abundance, and so those who had taken charge sent out people to the other nearby households to demand portions of what they had. Eventually, the emissaries from the Master’s household began working as overseers in the other households, taking more than they needed from them, keeping some for their own enrichment and sending back more to the Master’s household. The Master’s household became plentiful again, taking from others to feed itself.
Then the far away household had another drought, and they sent people to seek aid. The Master’s household was no longer generous, and so rather than give to them without question, they sent another emissary to see the conditions for themselves. They worked with the household there to have better irrigation so the drought wouldn’t affect them as badly. Being such a good benefactor, the emissary took a large portion of what they produced for himself and for his Master’s household. After many years, the distant household was very productive, but the condition of the people in that household was worse than it had been before.
Still, the members of the Master’s household saw themselves as good, kind, and benevolent overseers, bringing prosperity to all. They even erected shrines to the Master in the other households, the heads of those houses having long been replaced by the emissaries from the Master’s household. The Master’s household continued to grow and flourish and continued to call themselves a city on a hill. There were a few who stayed awake, who kept in the Master’s ways and remained generous, encouraging others and sharing what they had, but they were largely not listened to, seen as troublemakers, or admired by some from afar.
Then, the Master returned. He neither recognized his household, nor almost anyone in it. Those who kept the shrine thought surely he would be grateful to them, but instead, he asked why they didn’t work at the jobs he had given them and help those around them, or at least share what they were given to help others. The Master ejected them all from his household, save those few who had stayed awake and kept in his ways, and he invited those from the other households to come and be with him instead.
Now, there is no direct cognate between the old and the new household in the story I told. You can’t call it Jews verses Christians, some Christians verses others, or even Americans verses Africans or Native Americans. There is truth in this story which is told and happens over and over. There is good news in this story and there is warning in this story.
This story is about how we live in this life and in this world, and the warning is not that those who had fallen asleep were rejected by the master. That is the obvious truth, the consequence of living inhumanely. The warning is about the horrors of what happens when we fall asleep. When we fall asleep, we begin thinking of ourselves without also thinking of others. When we fall asleep, we worry and fear, we look on others with suspicion. When we fall asleep, we become less generous, more self important, and can even see ourselves as better than others. Think of conquest, death and destruction, in the name of bringing Jesus to others. Think of looking down on others for their mistakes or lifestyles without the compassion of looking deeply to see the human being doing their best, mistakes and all. When we fall asleep, we tend to assume we are still awake while also assuming, with contempt, that others have fallen asleep.
When we fall asleep, we tend to see ourselves as benevolent benefactors through our charity and good works, while failing to see that some of our own actions, as individuals and as a society, contribute to the need for our charity in the first place. When we fall asleep, we tend to view God as one who is pleased by our religion and our observance of religious rituals, rather than one who wants us first and foremost to live well toward each other, our religion as merely a tool to help heal our hearts so that we can live lovingly toward ourselves and others. When we fall asleep we end up fighting with each other over the minutia of our religion, claiming in groups and out groups, becoming obsessed with doing everything just in the right way, rather than remembering that Jesus ate with sinners and told us to share a meal together and to remember him when we did so.
The warning of Jesus’ story is what happens to us and the harm we do when we fall asleep and become the household of slumber. The good news of Jesus’ story is the first household, the true city on a hill, the household of those who are awake. The good news is the generosity and love we share when we are awake. The good news is how we treat one another immediately following a hurricane and flood. The good news is when we value people more than things, when we value others’ well being over our own absolute security.
The good news is that Jesus cares about people more than religion, and he desires for us to do the same. The good news is also that Jesus knows we’ll mess up and he has already forgiven us; so that we are free to love others and live out his household, his kingdom, not out of any fear, but purely out of love for others. Finally, the good news is that Jesus does not only return in the clouds at the end of time, but he returns daily in face of anyone and everyone around us, calling us to wake up. Wake, arise, and cast off the ways of the household of slumber, and live again in the household of those who are awake.
Brad Sullivan All Saints Sunday, Year A November 5, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Matthew 5:1-12
Who are the saints? (Icon of St. Joseph - is this a saint? Picture of my dad - is this a saint?) Both are saints, even though only a few knew my dad.
The saints are those who love God and love people.
The saints are also those whom God loves and whom people love.
In our Gospel reading, the beatitudes, is Jesus describing the saints? Yes…and…he’s not always describing people who have done particularly saint-worthy things. He’s also describing those whom he loves.
Did the people whom Jesus described do particularly saintly things? Peacemakers - yes. Merciful and pure in heart - yes, they seem rather saintly. Hunger and thirst for righteousness - maybe. The poor in spirit - no…just kind of downtrodden. The meek and those whom mourn - …also kind of sad, not particularly great.
Let’s look at that. Thinking of mourning and being poor in spirit, remember being sick as a kid. Remember feeling puny and just wanting to cuddle up with a blanket and do nothing? How is that saintly? Well, I have a secret for you, are you ready to hear it? Sometimes when our kids were younger and they were sick, it was actually kind of nice. We weren’t happy that they felt bad, but they were so cuddly when they were sick. They would come to us and simply want to be held, to be nearer to us. We couldn’t make the cold go away, but we gave them what they needed, to be nearer to us, to be held and loved. We got to hold and take care of our cuddly little kiddos. How blessed were they and we, when we simply go to hold and love them?
Blessed are little kids when they are sick, because they get taken care of by those who love them. In his list of those who are blessed, Jesus is describing some who live out God’s kingdom and live out the heart of God, and Jesus is also describing those who are sick and so draw nearer to God to be held by him and loved. Blessed are people who live out God’s kingdom, and blessed are people who are down and out for they are cared for by God and live near to God through the love they share.
At the heart of the saints is a heart that says, “I love people and I want to live in a way that is loving toward others.” Also at the heart of the saints is a heart that says, “I have nothing left; I am tired and poor and sick, and I want to rest in Jesus’ arms and receive God’s love.”
So that’s who we’re talking about when we talk about the saints. We’re talking about those who love: those who love God and love people, those who are loved by God and loved by people, and those who seek out and receive God love and receive peoples’ love. Those who love and those who let themselves be loved. Those are the saints.
Who are the saints in your lives?
Brad Sullivan Proper 25, Year A October 29, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8 Matthew 22:34-46
The Most Powerful Force In the World
Becca Stevens is an Episcopal priest and the founder and president of Thistle Farms which she stared 20 years ago with five women who needed healing, survivors of abuse, trafficking, and prostitution. She started with five women in a house called Magdalene, and there these five women found the healing power of love as they lived together, cared for each other, and loved their way back to wholeness. After four years, Becca and the women of Magdalene House realized they also needed women to become economically independent to fully get their lives back, and so they stared making candles, oils, and other healing products. Thistle Farms began, and the women who were survivors of the worst that humanity has to offer began operating this business, Thistle Farms, learning about running a business, while being healed themselves, and while generating revenue so that more women survivors could come and live in one of the houses for the two year program and also be healed.
In the twenty years that Thistle Farms has been healing women and sustaining itself through the healing products they make and sell, Becca Stevens has found that “Love is the most powerful force for change in the world.”
That sounds a bit like what Jesus taught, doesn’t it. Love God, and love people. That is the only religion Jesus is really interested in us having. When Jesus said the greatest commandment is to love God and the close second is to love people, he was talking to the uber religious Pharisees. They were like the extreme high church people of our day. If there was a law, a rule, a rubric about their religious practice, they followed it absolutely to the t. There was nothing particularly wrong about that except for what was in their hearts and the reasons why they were following the law absolutely to the t.
See they were following all of their religious practice rules because they thought doing so made them righteous in God’s eyes. They really wanted God to be pleased with them and they wanted to look good before God and others. In other words, their extreme religious observance was mostly selfish and done with a misunderstanding of who God is and what God desires for us. For a timely example, they’d basically turned God into Jobu.
For those of you unfamiliar with Jobu, he was a small voodoo idol statue guy who made his cinematic debut in film Major League. In the movie, the Cleveland Indians baseball team were dead last in Major League Baseball and they had a rather rag tag group of players, plenty of talent, but a little rough around the edges. Pedro Cerano was their big heavy hitter and could hit a home run off of a fastball just about every time, but he couldn’t hit a curve ball. So, he kept this little statue named Jobu in his locker, and he prayed to Jobu to help him hit the curve ball. Not only that, he tried to please Jobu by leaving him offerings of cigars and rum, and as he told his teammates, “It’s very bad to drink Jobu’s rum; it’s very bad.” Of course Jobu didn’t actually help him hit the curveball and in the end, he decided he would just hit the curveball himself.
The Pharisees had turned God into Jobu. “Yea for us,” they thought, “We’re offering to God all of our proverbial cigars and rum; we’re following every religious practice, every single one, so that God will be pleased with us.” They were even instructing others and even scaring them into trying to do the same so that God would not be angry with them. In other words, “it’s very bad to drink Jobu’s rum.” The Pharisees had forgotten that the point of the law, the point of all of their religious practices was not to please God, but rather to help heal their own hearts so that they might be better able to love others.
God doesn’t care about our religious practices. As much as the law of Moses said that people had to sacrifice animals to atone for their sins, the prophets said over and over again, “Would you stop with that animal sacrifice stuff? God doesn’t want it. God doesn’t care. He just wants you to treat each other well, to take care of each other, and to live lives of love.” That’s like the new ultra-revised standard international version, but that was the message. “I don’t care about this stuff. I don’t care about these religious practices. Just love each other.”
Love God, and love people. If at any time, obeying a rule of the law forces you to act in a way that is not loving toward God or people, then break the law. If at any time heeding the words of the prophets forces you to act in a way that is not loving toward God or people, then do not heed the words of the prophets.
So, if God really isn’t all that into religion, why do we have religion? Why do we have these rituals and routines and ways of life? Well, again I’ll turn to Becca Stevens with Thistle Farms. The point of the ritual and the religion is to help us love God and love people. In her book, Love Heals, Becca writes about the healing power of ritual. She writes about her morning ritual including prayer which took years to work out what truly helped heal her heart each day. She wrote that keeping this morning ritual got her ready for the day and helped heal her heart each day so that she could be more loving toward her family and everyone else she saw during the day. She wrote that “[Keeping these rituals] might mean dinners are simpler, clothes don’t get folded as often, and you miss out on other activities, but for folks like me who can spin out and lose focus, morning rituals are grounding and essential.” “We need some good old-time religious practices,” she wrote, “to infuse our lives so we can use the most powerful force - love - to heal our communities.”
Personally, I’ve found healing in old time religious practices, particularly in the last month or so by praying morning prayer each morning. For years, my practice was to pray morning prayer by myself with a cup of coffee, and before having kids, this daily practice worked out pretty well, and there were a couple of years that I found healing every morning through these prayers. Enter children, and I just couldn’t do it for a while. Still, that was my practice, morning prayer every morning, and I rarely followed that practice.
Then there was Harvey and praying Compline each night via Facebook life, and those prayers and rituals and the community praying together. One of our vestry members asked if we could do Morning Prayer as well, so the next morning I began praying Morning Prayer Monday through Saturday at about 6:00 each morning and inviting others to join via Facebook Live. There has been a change in my life with this newly rediscovered ritual, especially because I’m getting to pray with others, even if they aren’t present at the time and they join in by watching later. If that particular routine isn’t going to work for you, and it’s not going to be healing for everyone, then find another routine, some other old-time religious practice that does heal your heart. Time to breathe, time to center in prayer, letting all that is pass by and simply be in the moment. Look at the beauty of the earth, the trees, the sky, the beauty of the people around, giving thanks, feeling our connectedness, noticing the daily gift of the sunrise and sunset. Breathe, be still, light a candle to cast out the darkness, pray through scripture and the words of Jesus. Join with others in prayer.
Having routine and practices, religious rituals is a wonderful, healing way to live, not because God cares one whit if we pray morning prayer, but because these rituals help to heal our hearts, to reconnect us to the source of all life and love, the God who created all that is. Then, with our hearts healed, we can live out that love toward others. God cares about our healing and our love for one another quite a lot. That’s why God would be pleased with our religious practices, that these rituals may heal us so that we will be better able to love.
If we don’t follow religious practices, God’s not offended. God is not Jobu upset that we didn’t offer him rum. Rather, God offers us religious practices and rituals because God knows we’ll find healing by connecting to him each day, because God is love, and “love is the most powerful force for [healing and] change in the world.”
Brad Sullivan Proper 23, Year A October 15, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Isaiah 25:1-9 Philippians 4:1-9 Matthew 22:1-14
Wow, That Got Out of Hand Quickly
So this is everyone’s favorite parable. In a few sentences, Jesus’ parable of the wedding feast went from a king throwing a wedding feast for his son to the guests not wanting to come, killing the king’s servants, and the king utterly destroying their city and killing all of them. From “Hey guys, let’s have a party,” to total bloodbath in 4.3 seconds, the hearer of this story is left rather breathless, thinking, “Wow, that really got out of hand quickly.” We’re left stunned, and a bit scared as we hear this parable, and so we often try to clearly define what groups of people Jesus is talking about.
Christians have long tried to define themselves as the riff raff collected from the streets who accepted the king’s invitation, and Christians have then tried to define the Jews as the initial guests who killed the kings servants and were then killed by the king themselves. Not so fast crazy Christian. At the time Jesus told this parable, there weren’t any Christians yet. Jesus was an itinerant Jewish Rabbi telling a parable to his disciples in the context of the priests and the Pharisees trying to discredit him and his ministry while at the same time exalting themselves.
So, Jesus tells a parable about God’s judgment and God’s grace, and there is tension there which the Pharisees and the priests wanted to ignore. Pharisees and priests followed the law of Moses, so much so that they became certain of their own righteousness before God not because of God’s grace, but because of how well they followed the rules. They felt justified in God’s eyes as if they had earned his good graces. That’s now how grace works.
In Jesus’ parable, no one earned anything. People were invited to a party. The king invited his people to the party, and they didn’t want to come. In fact, they were so dead set against going to a party, that they would literally rather kill people than go to the party. How crazy is that? “I invited you to a party, and you chose to murder people instead?” The king says. So, at that point, yeah, the king kills those people and kills ‘em good, burns their town and leaves nothing but ashes.
Then he invites whoever is left, the riff raff, and all is well. They come to the party, and being riff raff, being the good and the bad, the whomever the king happened to find out among the streets, these people didn’t have fancy clothes to wear to the wedding. In fact, it wouldn’t have mattered if they did, because at a wedding like this one, the king would have provided even the initial guests with wedding garments. They were the kings guests, and they would wear what he provided, rather than showing off their own splendor and mocking those with less.
So the riff raff is having a great time at the party. Crazy uncle Earl is making a bit of a spectacle of himself, but that’s ok. Music is going, the wine is flowing, and then the king sees this one dude without his wedding garment. Did the kings servants mess up and not give him one? Did he refuse to take it? Did he sneak in through an open window and crash the party? We don’t know, and that’s what the king wants to know, and rather than fess up, the man just stands there not saying anything. From his initial entry without accepting the wedding garment to his refusal to speak to the king, the man is making one thing very clear. “Sure, I’ll be here at your stupid party, but I’m going to be here on my terms.”
That’s now how the party works. That’s not how grace works. Grace is freely offered, and you just say “yes” and “thanks.” If the guy in the story had just spoken up, he’d have been ok. When asked “Why you don’t have a wedding garment?”, just admit that you’re a self righteous prat. Just admit that you’re still broken and messed up and trying to earn your way or trying to place yourself above others. If the guy without the wedding garment had just spoken up, the king would have said, “Oh, you misunderstood. The party is a free gift, you don’t have to earn it. You don’t have to be better than anybody else. Here, take this wedding garment, and let me get you a beer.”
The story isn’t about being better than anybody else or being prepared, it’s about saying, “Gee whiz, thanks,” to God’s grace. Often when we hear this parable, however, we make it about something else, and we try to define who has accepted the wedding garment and who hasn’t? Do we, as the church, worry about our family and friends who reject becoming Christian, reject being a part of the church? Possibly we do, but whoever said “the Church” are the ones who have accepted the invitation and put on the wedding garment? Sometimes, in the church, we take our faith in Jesus and turn it into our own clothes, trusting in our faith in Jesus as a rule, rather than simply trusting in Jesus. We take our faith in Jesus and turn it into our own terms. We take Jesus and turn him into an institution.
Sometimes folks reject the church as the institution and reject the faith of the church as the faith of that institution. They’re searching for truth, searching for a way, searching for life. They are searching for God’s grace, for what we understand Jesus to be, but they aren’t finding what they are searching for in what we proclaim about Jesus nor in how we live out Jesus’ way. Perhaps those who reject the church are being called to the wedding banquet from the streets, and we have unknowingly rejected the invitation, or accepted the invitation but done so on our own terms?
There is always that tension, that we take Jesus’ invitation and turn it around and accept it, but accept it on our own terms. “The invitation is free, but I’m accepting it as a good and righteous person,” some may think, or “Now that I’ve been invited, I’ll earn my invitation by being such a good person from now on.”
There is always the tension between following Jesus and his way, the importance of living as Jesus taught, and the free gift of grace, the invitation that continues to be offered regardless of our actions, regardless of how good we are or how bad we are. There is tension between the free gift of grace and the command to love one another as Jesus loves us, and the man in the parable who tries to go to the wedding feast on his own terms reminds us that we don’t get to resolve the tension.
“I thought God wanted me to be a kind and decent person, loving others?” Yes, he does. “But doesn’t he want me to show that off at his party?” Nope. You didn’t get to the party by being so awesome. God invited you out of grace.
See God wants to have a party, all the time, and at the end of all time. In this life, God wants us to love each other. God wants us to accept his grace and to give his grace. God looks at us and thinks, “Man, y’all are messed up. Just admit it, and quit with this silliness of thinking you have to be better than each other. That ain’t how I work. Y’all are all messed up, and I want to have a party with all of you.” That’s how grace works. The judgment is that we don’t buy it, or rather than we think we have to buy it. When we think we have to buy it, that’s when things get out of hand really quickly. The truth is, we don’t have to buy God’s grace or earn God’s grace. We don’t have to fight with each other to try to get enough of it. We don’t have to claim ourselves as having it and others as not. That’s keeping our own clothes on. God’s grace is God’s grace. It’s a free gift, and there is plenty to go around.
Brad Sullivan Proper 20, Year A September 24, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Jonah 3:10-4:11 Matthew 20:1-16
But Jesus, That’s Not Fair!
“But Jesus, that’s not fair!” That pretty well sums up the response of the laborers at the end of Jesus’ parable of the laborers in the vineyard. They had agreed to work for the day for the usual daily wage. They negotiated those terms with the landowner. Then, when they found out that those who worked for only an hour also made the usual daily wage, they felt cheated. “That’s not fair!” Well, as a friend of mine was thinking of titling her sermon for today, “Suck it up, Buttercup.”
Clarence Jordan of Koinonia Farms once said, “Whenever Jesus told a parable, he lit a stick of dynamite and covered it with a story.” At first glance many of us, myself included, look at this parable and think, “Well that’s not fair, Jesus.” Then we look a little deeper into the story, and “boom”. The dynamite goes off. Our notions of fairness and deservedness, our shoulds and aught tos get blown up.
True enough, it isn’t exactly fair to pay those who worked only an hour the same as those who worked all day, but look at the alternative. If the landowner was being fair it, would seem that the laborers who worked all day would have had the landowner pay for only an hours’ worth of work to those who worked an hour for only. That would be fair, but that was 1/8th of what they needed each day to get by. So, ultimately the attitude of the laborers who worked all day was, “in order to be fair, you should let those other people starve. Ultimately, the laborers who worked all day were saying that those who were only able to work for an hour should die. “Boom.” The dynamite goes off.
“Well wait, no, Jesus didn’t mean it like that.” “I thought it was unfair, but I didn’t want the other laborers to die.” We hear Jesus’ parables, the dynamite goes off, and then while the dust is still settling, we often try to rebuild our world just like it was before Jesus’ pesky meddling. “No, he didn’t mean it like that.” “Sure Jesus is the messiah, but he didn’t really mean what he said in this parable.” “Something in this story got lost in translation.” It’s easy to try to rebuild too quickly, wanting the security of our previous notions of what is right, without first looking at what Jesus has revealed in his pesky parable dynamite demolition thing.
We often want this parable not to be about money, and it isn’t only about money. This parable may not be Jesus’ instruction manual for economists, may not be, but the response is often to see the economic flaws in Jesus’ notion of generosity over deservedness. “This wouldn’t work as an economic system. You know what people are like. No one would work more than an hour a day.” Probably true, and that’s a fair point, but before we rebuild what Jesus demolished over that one security keeping argument, what lessons might there be for us as we consider this parable?
Looking at how people tend to get compensated for their work, we tend to look at averages. What do others make on average for this same type of work? That seems fair enough, but in the light of Jesus’ parable, a more appropriate question would be “Is this compensation enough? While others might make “X” for this job, I know that “X” isn’t really enough in today’s world. It may be fair in comparison with what others make, but it isn’t really enough.”
For a modern example of choosing to pay what is enough, rather than seems fair by comparison, Dan Price, the CEO of Gravity Payments cut his own salary by 90% back in 2015 so that all of his employees could earn $70,000. I don’t know that Mr. Price was inspired by Jesus; I’ve read nothing to indicate that he was, but his example shows the possibility of living into the kingdom way that Jesus taught, even in our modern economy. The company is still going strong, or was as of January of this year when the article I read about it was written. There were some negative consequences. Some clients pulled out of the company, fearing their fees would increase. They didn’t. Other clients liked what the CEO had done and began giving him their business. Some of the employees didn’t like the new arrangement and quit because they didn’t think it was fair for those who had been earning less than they to receive the same as they. These employees felt diminished by their boss’ generosity. I tend to go with the title of my friend’s sermon on that one. “Suck it up, buttercup.”
Like the laborers in the vineyard who worked all day, they felt it wasn’t fair to earn the same as those whom they felt didn’t deserve as much. Jesus again takes dynamite to our notions of fairness and to the comparisons we so often draw. “Am I making as much as compared to others?” “Should those people earn as much as I do when I compare the amount or kind of work I do with the work they do?” “Do they really deserve to have enough for the work they do?” “Don’t I deserve more than enough for the work I do?” Boom.
Such comparison is something else Jesus dynamites in the parable of the workers in the vineyard, along with our notions of fairness and deservedness. When the dust settles, we might just learn from Jesus that comparison may seem like wisdom, but it doesn’t tend to lead to a good place. Comparison leads to jealousy and envy. Comparison leads to being bitter about what someone else has rather than being happy about what I have. Comparison leads to always wanting more. Comparison leads to feelings of inadequacy and never being good enough. Comparison leads to us being deaf to Jesus’ teaching not to worry; his teaching that we are enough as we have been made to be; his teaching not to put our faith in stuff, but to put our faith in him, to trust in our beloved-ness, and to love others as we are loved.
Theodore Roosevelt, Brené Brown, and others have said variations of the following concerning the supposed wisdom of comparison. “Comparison is the thief of happiness, and jealousy is usually it’s partner in crime.” The laborers in the vineyard and the employees of Gravity Payments were happy with what they had, until they started comparing what they had to others. Then comparison and jealousy stole their happiness away and did absolutely nothing to help them or anyone else.
To the cry that this story isn’t fair, I’d simply say, God isn’t fair, and thank God for that. God’s Kingdom doesn’t deal all that much in fairness and deservedness. God’s kingdom doesn’t deal in our jealous comparisons. God isn’t interested in our hierarchies. He’s not interested in us raising ourselves up above others because we feel that our greater efforts make us deserving of greater benefits. In God’s Kingdom, Jesus dynamites or concepts of deservedness, fairness, and comparison. Then in the crater and debris that is left, Jesus teaches us, and God builds up in us his love, his selflessness, and his generosity toward others.
Brad Sullivan Proper 16, Year A August 27, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Exodus 12:1-14 Romans 13:8-14 Matthew 18:15-20
Our Pre-Harvey Lives Are Dead and In the Tomb
Last Friday, I was volunteering over at FamilyPoint Resources, a little ways down Memorial from here. Family Point has after school programs for children in this area along with other services for children and families. With school not yet in session last week, FamilyPoint opened up to have some hang out time for the neighborhood kids, and I was there to help with that. I spent a little bit of time on the soccer field, but mostly built LEGOs with a group kids. It’s great getting to see what they come up with and how excited they are to show off their creations. There was the occasional dispute over, ‘that piece is mine,’ but mostly we just built together and admired each others’ creations.
Afterwards, I was talking with the executive director, Stephanie Hruzek, about Family Point and the needs of the neighborhood. They need folks to come help with after school, of course, and they’re also assembling teams to help muck out houses. All are welcome to join in those efforts, by the way. One thing that was so heartening and wonderful in Stephanie’s and my conversation was the seeming role reversal of families that Family Point is used to serving, coming out to help serve others, be it through mucking houses, helping at Family Point, or just helping out a neighbor in any way they need. The humanity that she has seen in the wake of Hurricane Harvey has far surpassed the damage done. Fear of the other and fear of the unknown seem to be down right now, and our shared humanity is coming to the fore. Stephanie shared her joy at this recognition of, this living into our shared humanity, and our hope and prayer is that this seeking out and reaching out for the other continues.
Reaching out for one another and recognizing our shared humanity feels like pre-Harvey burdens have been lifted off our shoulders, burdens we were not even all that aware of: burdens of fearing others or ignoring others. Amidst these burdens which we often carry, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)
Jesus’ yoke is his teaching, his way. As much as our religion has at times tried to make Jesus’ way difficult and heavy, the way of Jesus, the teachings of Jesus are easy, and light. The way of Jesus takes other burdens off our shoulders and lightens our loads as we walk this life together. Helping others with our post-Harvey, newfound common humanity has felt lighter than before. This is the way and the teaching of Jesus. Post-Harvey, we’ve been walking in the way of love, and we’ve been less encumbered by the burden of fearing the other, less encumbered by the burden of ignoring the other, less encumbered by the burden of enmity towards the other.
Friends and family who have had estrangement growing over differing political and religious beliefs have found that such differences don’t matter in the wake of Harvey. Our petty differences and even our important differences do keep us…different, but they don’t need to divide us. If we need to be divided, God will sort that out later on. In all seriousness, Jesus taught on several occasions that any sorting out of the people, any dividing of humanity that needs to happen will be done by God at the end of the ages. In the mean time, Jesus taught that we are to live with each other, sometimes to put up with each other, but above all to love each other and to live out our common humanity.
Paul told the church in Rome to “owe no one anything except to love one another.” The burden of fear keeps us from loving one another, and there are few heavier burdens than fear - except perhaps a desire for vengeance. Before Paul wrote to owe no one anything except to love one another, Paul wrote, “Repay no one evil for evil…never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God…” (Romans 12:17-19) Desire for vengeance may seem justified, but it is a heavy burden, and Jesus’ yoke, his teaching, seeks to lighten that burden.
“If another member of the church sins against you,” Jesus taught, “go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.”
Ok, so if we’re being honest, going up to the person who has hurt you and going to them with your heart in your hand letting them know that they hurt you is not an easy task. Doing so requires courage and vulnerability. You might just get hurt again. Going to someone and seeking reconciliation, however, is so much easier and lighter than carrying around the burden of hurt forever. The weight of carrying that pain around is hard and heavy, carrying the accompanying fear and mistrust takes are hearts of flesh and turns them into hearts of stone, weighing us down even further. We trust less and less and fear more and more, when we don’t seek reconciliation, and then we end up with our pre-Harvey burdens of fearing the other, ignoring the other, and holding enmity for the other. Seeking reconciliation is a far easier and lighter burden than the burden of carrying fear, mistrust, and enmity.
Even if you can’t be reconciled, Jesus taught that you still don’t carry the enmity around. You drop it. You let it go. If you can’ t be reconciled, then let that person be to you as a gentile and a tax collector. On the one hand, you’re considering that person to be outside of your life, apart from you. On the other hand, what grudge would you hold against someone who is not a part of you? Let the grudge go, let the person go, and wipe the slate clean. It would be up to the other person at that point to rebuild the relationship. At the same time, gentiles and tax collectors were a part of Jesus’ and the early church’s mission field, so there is a writing off and a starting over in Jesus’ teaching about when reconciliation doesn’t occur. Death and resurrection. Such is the way of Jesus. Such is his easy yoke and his light burden.
Our shared humanity, seeking out the other without fear, forgiving and actively seeking reconciliation: these are ways of Jesus that we absolutely need in our post-Harvey lives, and what we need in our post-Harvey life as Emmanuel. We need each other. We always did, but pre-Harvey, we felt secure enough in other things not to realize our need for each other quite so acutely.
Our pre-Harvey lives are dead and in the tomb. Our post-Harvey lives and post-Harvey life as Emmanuel is emerging from the tomb. Post-Harvey, we have been woken from sleep, and we realize just how much we need each other. More than a building, more than programs, we need each other. Emmanuel Episcopal Church & School is a new creation by water and the Word.
We need to stay joined together, and we need to discover new ways to join together as well. In our post-Harvey, resurrected life, we need to keep reaching out into our community. We are a church, a people, without a building right now, and this is a challenge for us, and it is also a wonderful opportunity to live into our common humanity. Without our building to gather in and serve from, we get to gather and serve in other people’s buildings. We get to gather and serve in other people’s homes. We get to join with our neighbors as they gather and serve us.
With prayer and reconciliation, we get to continue in this resurrected life, sharing in our common humanity as a new creation by water and the Word, following in the easy way and light burden of Jesus.
Brad Sullivan Proper 14, Year A August 13, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Matthew 14:22-33
Walking On Water: The Martyr of Charlottesville
Jesus was the Word of God which spoke all of creation into existence. On some level, even subconsciously, I’d guess Jesus began to have some inkling of who he was. I wonder if in his encounter with his disciples on the boat, Jesus just forgot for a minute that humans can’t walk on water. He was tired; it had been a long day. He’d gone away to be by himself to pray for a while after learning that his cousin, John the Baptist had been beheaded, and instead of getting a break, Jesus ended up teaching and multiplying food some somewhere around 10,000 people (including the women and children). Finally, after all that, he sends his disciples across the sea in their boat while he gets to spend some time alone in prayer.
So, worn out, dog tired, Jesus spent time alone in prayer, and I think he might have been so caught up in his time with his Father, that he just totally forgot that people aren’t really that adept at walking on things that aren’t solid. So, like Superman forgetting to put his glasses back on before going to the office, Jesus just starts walking on the sea out to his disciples. Why not? Why shouldn’t he walk on the sea? He made the sea, after all.
So, he’s walking out onto the water, lost in thought, barely aware of his surroundings. Eventually a storm comes, and he’s thinking, “eh, not too bad, I’ve made worse,” and then the disciples see him. They’re terrified, and he realizes what’s going on. He covers as best he can, saying, “Ok, guys, I know this looks weird, but it’s not what you’re thinking. I’m not a ghost. It’s just I; It’s just Jesus.” That calms them a little, and then Peter’s like, “Hey cool, Jesus, can I come out and play?” Perfect, Jesus thinks. “You bet, Pete! Come on!”
Then we all know what happens. Peter walks on the water for a while, until he notices the wind and waves, and like Wiley Coyote walking off a cliff and staying aloft until he looks down, Peter starts to sink. So, Jesus picks him up, gets them both into the boat and decides he’s had enough of his little wind storm, dials that down a bit, and tries to pass the whole thing off, real nonchalant, “so what’s been going on, fellas?”
They start to get the idea pretty quickly that Jesus is more than a prophet, but the Lord of all creation, the one who actually made all of creation. I’m guessing they got pretty excited at that point, excited and amazed at the wonder of it all.
I get really excited when I think of the Word of God who spoke creation into existence becoming human and walking on this earth. I love that God was human and walked on this very earth. Whenever I start to take the world for granted, that very idea of God walking on this earth makes the whole creation hallowed again.
Then we get people treating creation like garbage. We get people like the angry mob in Charlottesville, Virginia over the weekend deciding that only some parts of creation are hallowed, only some types of people are hallowed. All people are made in God’s image. All of creation is hallowed, and yet, despite the beauty and sacredness of people and all creation, people will all too often de-sanctify creation by driving a car into a group of people, killing someone for thinking that racism isn’t a particularly good idea.
Imagine those folks holding a rally within these walls, declaring most of humanity damned. Imagine people coming in here with shields and sticks and guns, ready and willing to physically harm anyone who disagreed with them. Imagine that folks who disagreed with them did come in here and were beaten and killed. That is exactly what happened in Charlottesville, because in God’s eyes, all of creation is hallowed. Every place is a place of worship. Everywhere Jesus looks and says, “This place is great; I remember making this place. I remember speaking this place into existence, and I love this place.” The same goes for every person on earth, yes, even the angry mob of people who assume that God hates most of the people he created.
Hatred and violence. Shame and anger. Assuming one type of person is better than another type of person. Jesus was pretty darn clear that we are all the same in God’s eyes. Jesus was pretty darn clear that he loves all people and he loves all of this beautiful Earth which he created. He was also pretty darn clear that as much as he loves all people, there is no place in his kingdom for the kinds of thoughts and actions demonstrated by the angry white supremacist mob in Charlottesville.
Now, if we’re honest with ourselves, we all have hatred, anger, and violence within us too. Everyone does. The question is, what are we going to do with it, and what Jesus calls us to do, what he teaches us to do with our hatred, anger, and violence is not to act it out, not to act upon it, but rather to give it to him, to place it at the foot of the cross so that he can transform it into love.
That is often not done, however, and we have a world that is full of anger, hatred, and violence (as well as love). So, what are we to do amidst such anger, hatred, and violence? Well, let’s call the anger, hatred, and violence of the world storms and waves. Then, let’s do what Peter did. Amidst the storms and the waves, we look up and see Jesus coming to us, not where we expect, not in the quiet sanctuary, but right in the middle of the storms and waves, right in the middle of the hatred, anger, and violence. Then, rather than waiting for Jesus to come to us in the safety of the boat, the sanctuary, we ask Jesus to summon us out into the storms and waves. Rumor has it, he’ll say yes. Then, like Peter did, we step out of the sanctuary and risk drowning in order to go and be with Jesus amidst the storms and waves. We risk drowning, going out into the anger, hatred, and violence to be the light of Jesus within the storm.
Sometimes we’re not even entirely sure what we’re going to do there. We want to bring the light of Jesus with us. We want to live out the way, the truth, and the life of Jesus amidst the storms and waves, and it is darn scary. We just may be killed if we go out amidst the storms and waves. A 32 year old woman was killed in Charlottesville by a man who drove his car into a group of people who stepped out of the boat amidst the storm of anger, hatred, and violence to declare that anger, hatred, and violence have no place in this world. This woman risked and gave her life to give witness to love rather than hatred. That’s what we call a martyr, a witness. I don’t even know if she was Christian, but I know she was amidst the storm, declaring the light of love for all, not just some. She gave her life for that witness, and that is martyrdom.
Stepping out amidst the storms and waves of anger, hatred, and violence, we too will risk drowning. We’ll risk our lives and well-being to live out and be the light of Jesus amidst the darkness of hatred, anger, and violence. When Peter stared to sink, Jesus reached down and picked him up. I’d like to say that his doing so is a guarantee that so long as we ask Jesus for help, we won’t be harmed, but that simply isn’t true. Peter began sinking because he became overcome with fear of the storm and waves. The call to Jesus keeps us from being overcome with fear, keeps us from succumbing to the anger, hatred, and violence ourselves. The call to Jesus doesn’t guarantee that we won’t be harmed. The call to Jesus keeps our hearts from falling into hatred, anger, and violence. The call to Jesus keeps the darkness from overcoming the light of Jesus within us.
Truly to be the light of Jesus amidst the darkness of anger, hatred, and violence, we truly do need to risk drowning, to risk not only our lives and well-being, but also to risk being overcome by the darkness. In all likelihood, we will be overcome by the darkness at times, and in those times, we call out to Jesus to save us, to reach his hand out, pull us out of the storm and waves and put us back into the boat, the sanctuary. Then, once we’ve recovered, we step out of the boat, amidst the storm and waves once again to risk our lives and well-being, to be the light of Jesus amidst the darkness of hatred, anger, and violence once again.
Risk is part of the deal to live as Jesus’ disciples. We’ve got to risk drowning to walk out on the water with Jesus. We also need to be able to see the beauty and sacredness of the people and creation all around us, even amidst the storm and waves. We realize the waves are there, but don’t get too daunted by the waves. Keep your eyes on Jesus. Imagine the magic, the possibility, the wonder of seeing him walking to you on the water. Imagine the magic, the possibility, the wonder of asking him if you can come out and play too, and Jesus saying ,”yes.”
Brad Sullivan Proper 12, Year A July 30, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52
A Woman Made Bread, and Jesus Said, “This Is My Body”
Jesus said the Kingdom of Heaven can be compared to “yeast that a woman took and mixed in with tree measures of flower until all of it was leavened.” Bread. The kingdom of heaven is like bread, the yeast mixing with the flour, helping it all grow together, the hands of God working to knead the dough and bake it, transforming it from something gooey and inedible, to something delicious and life-giving. God gives life and forms people in the Kingdom of Heaven, transforming us from one thing into another. Like God took clay and formed it into Adam’s body and transformed it into a living being, so did a woman knead and shape dough to make bread, which Jesus took, and broke, and gave to his friends and said, “this is my body.”
We are called the Body of Christ live here on earth, as we believe in Jesus, recognize him moving in our lives, and as we seek to live out his Kingdom here on earth. We’re called to be bread, our separate lives transformed into something greater and life-giving, yeast mixed with flower and water, kneaded, shaped, and leavened into a large loaf of fresh baked bread. Think for a second about the smell of fresh baked bread; it smells so good, makes you hungry, even if you’re not, you smell that bread, and you want some. That’s what the Kingdom of God is like. When we see or hear about the Kingdom of God really being lived out here on earth, we want to go there, we want to be a part of it.
Really living out the kingdom of God here on earth takes time and effort, just like it takes time to and effort to make bread. It takes time and effort to mix the ingredients together, to knead the dough, and then it takes God’s transformation, the ingredients literally becoming something else as they are baked together. That’s life in God’s Kingdom: time, effort, mixing, and God’s transformation.
Life in God’s kingdom, truly living our God’s kingdom takes time. It takes time for people to form relationships with others, time to get to know our neighbors. Life in God’s kingdom takes effort. It takes effort for people to join with others in their communities to serve others, to pray together, to strive together for justice and peace: seeking and serving Christ in all people, respecting the dignity of every human being, and loving our neighbors as ourselves.
Life in God’s kingdom also takes mixing. For the kingdom of Heaven to work, the yeast doesn’t just sit on the counter and watch the woman make the bread. The yeast moves in and around and interacts with the flour, the yeast and flour joining together with each other, changing each other, becoming something different than the two were separately. In the kingdom of God, we take time and effort mixing our lives with the lives of others. We work. We strive. We meet people, and we see where Jesus is moving in their lives. We join with them: the movement of Jesus in our lives joined with the movement of Jesus in their lives. When we take this time and effort to mix our lives together, Jesus works to knead the dough, like a woman who kneaded and shaped dough to make bread, which Jesus took, and broke, and gave to his friends and said, “this is my body.”
I read an article last week which was about this kind of Kingdom work, people mixing together and forming bread. The article from gravityleadership.com, was titled “How to Shift Small Groups to Missional Communities” For those unfamiliar with the term, mission communities are groups of people within a larger body of the church who “are committed to growing closer to Jesus, doing life together, and joining God’s work in the world. In other words, missional communities embrace worship, community, and mission as a holistic life of discipleship.”
The thrust of the article was that missional communities are different from small groups and that in order to live God’s kingdom, we need to shift some of our small groups into missional communities. The article points out that many churches have done pretty well at gathering their large worshipping communities into smaller groups which pray together, and study scripture, and get to know each other more deeply through their faith. The small groups take a large community in which some people know hardly anyone, and they give places where people can grow together in deep relationships with one another. The article went on to say, however, that often these small groups grow stale, continually looking for the next book or next study, and the mission and work of Jesus gets left undone. Even with a good focus on formation and sharing faith together, reaching out to others beyond themselves is often left out of these small groups. The yeast remains on the counter, watching the flour from a distance, not mixing and allowing the woman’s hands to form them into bread.
To be fair, the yeast is always ready for the flour to come to it. We, the church, want people to come here. We have become a largely attractional community, waiting for folks to come through the doors of the church building and join us in worship. While we do outreach here and have mission trips which are all good things, those efforts are not usually part of our daily lives and the communities in which we live. Rather, much of our life in the church is a part of this attractional model: come to church to be a part of these outreach efforts here.
With the attractional model of church, we’ve also done Sunday school pretty well for those who are here. If you come to church on Sunday, you can be formed in the stories of scripture and the faith of Jesus. If you can’t come to church on Sunday, you’re kinda left on your own. Folks can watch Joel Osteen on TV, but there’s not actual interaction, actually community with real people, watching something on TV. We have not been really faithful to Jesus’ calling for us to go out into our communities and form disciples of Jesus there.
Now, that sounds like evangelism, which the Episcopal church has not historically been overly well known for. We can share our faith within communities within the church, but going out? That sounds like less than happy street corner people. Let me be very clear: a faithful, yet less than happy person on a street corner, threatening strangers to believe in Jesus isn’t yeast mixing with flour; it’s rat poison. Truly being yeast that gets up off the counter to mix with the flour means mixing with others in our communities, living life together, and thereby allowing Jesus to transform us into bread. Evangelism is not generally done with strangers. Evangelism is done with people we know and people we have gotten to know. Evangelism is done in community, not by ourselves. Becoming bread, becoming the kingdom of God means we live out our faith in community with others, going out together in our communities to serve others and likely to be served by them as well. That is what missional communities are, what the church was always intended to be.
The article, “How to Shift Small Groups to Missional Communities”, gave three steps toward transforming a small group into a missional community which has an outward mission: - Start a conversation with your existing small group about joining God’s work in your community. If you are not currently part of a small group, prayerfully make a list of people you can invite in on the conversation. - Discern mission as a group by making a list of areas in the community that God might be inviting you to step into. This could be a place like your neighborhood, [joining with others to regularly and consistently help at a non-profit or community home], or a people group that you feel especially called to serve and love. - Develop some rhythms to support your life together that includes regularly seeking God, connecting in community with one another, and engaging your shared mission together.
Prayer, Worship, Service.
[Finally], as you step into mission as a community, think presence more than projects. How can you be intentional and consistent in being present among a group of people as a community? Then simply keep noticing where God is at work and join him there!
Now, I’d love to give an exact, step by step process for becoming a missional community with a simple beginning, middle, and end, but the Kingdom of God doesn’t work like that. What exactly a community is going to look like, what exactly the community mission work will be depends on what needs there are in each of our communities. What are our passions, and were do the needs of our communities meet the passions of our hearts? A missional community could join together to serve together, regularly, at a non-profit or a community home/shelter. A missional community could join together and get to know their neighbors and serve them when in need. Then that person might join the missional community and serve with them when someone else is in need.
A missional community, like the Body of Christ, like the Kingdom of God, is not a project that can be easily drawn up, pre-formed, modeled, and packaged for easy assembly. Missional communities, the way of the kingdom of God, requires work, effort, mixing together, dreaming and praying together with guidance from Jesus. Missional communities are going to be different everywhere because the needs and the people are different in each community.
Our part is to be formed as bread, to be yeast, to mix with our communities, to really get to know the communities in which we live, to notice what the needs are, to notice where Jesus is already at work, and then to be willing to be changed by mixing our lives and the work of Jesus with the lives and work of Jesus within others in our communities. Then we become the Kingdoms of God.
When we take this time and effort to mix our lives together, Jesus works to knead the dough, like a woman who kneaded and shaped dough to make bread, which Jesus took, and broke, and gave to his friends and said, “this is my body.”
https://gravityleadership.com/small-groups-missional-communities/
Brad Sullivan Proper 11, Year A July 23, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Genesis 28:10-19a Romans 8:12-25 Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
We Are One With Jesus, and Jesus Is With Us
I had a wonderful week last week at Camp Allen. Kristin and I, along with Machel Delange and Caroline San Martin were the camp directors for a session of summer camp for 3rd and 4th graders, and our theme was Star Wars based, “I am one with Jesus, and Jesus is with me,” that line taken and modified from a prayer that a character prayed in the most recent Star Wars movie, substituting “The Force” for Jesus.
We showed clips from the Star Wars movies and talked with the kids about trusting in Jesus and following in his way, like Jedi trusted in the Force and followed the path of the light. We hiked, we swam, we comforted homesick kiddos, and we supported the teenagers and young adults who were counselors and staff members of the camp. The kids gave these great responses during our discussions about Jesus being the light of the world and us following him and being one with him. “Jesus’ light is within us and we offer pieces of that light to others.” We talked about being one with Jesus and that because we are one with Jesus, we are one with each other and with all creation, so what we do really does matter; if we do good things to one, we are bringing light to all, and if we harm one person or even one part of creation, we’re harming and bringing darkness to all. Then, we made prayer beads and prayed “I am one with Jesus, and Jesus is with me” on the prayer beads to help us to be aware of his light within us so that we live and act out of that place of unity with God and with all creation.
It was a really good week. Then I came back and started working on the sermon for today, and was met by one of my not quite favorite passages: Jesus’ parable of the wheat and the weeds: Jesus sows good wheat seeds, and then the devil comes along and sows weeds among the wheat. On the one hand, I love that Jesus says not to tear out the weeds until the harvest so that harm doesn’t come to the wheat. We’re all connected, and so tearing out the weeds would harm the wheat.
On the other hand, at the end of the parable, Jesus explained that the weeds would be burned, meaning all causes of sin and all evildoers will be thrown into the furnace of fire at the end of the age. I imagine that means that some people will be punished eternally for what they did during one lifetime, and I’ve always been bothered by that idea. I fret over who is going to end up as the weeds and who will end up as the wheat.
How does this work? Are we all children of Jesus or children of the devil from our birth with nothing we can do to change it? That’s certainly what Jesus’ explanation of the parable sounds like. Perhaps he was using black and white language to describe something more complicated so his disciples would understand. Perhaps it is every bit as simple as it sounds. Perhaps the furnace of fire will burn the evil away and leave what is good in people? I honestly don’t know. I struggle with this one. How could there be causes of sin and evil doers in God’s kingdom? Of course there wouldn’t be, but doesn’t Jesus redeem them? Isn’t that what his death on the cross was all about? I wrestle with these questions, as have Jesus’ disciples for 2000 years.
Most of this wrestling has to do with our fears over the idea of a final judgment. Who will be wheat and who will be weeds? Many Christians end up try to assuage those fears by coming up with biblically based rules about who will be in and who will be out, rules about determining who is wheat and who is weeds. Predestination. Double predestination. Marks of election. These and other attempts to defend God’s sovereignty and to identify who is wheat and who is weeds all have several problems.
While trying to tie up Jesus’ parables and teachings about his kingdom into a nice neat package with a bow on top, and all such attempts lead to putting our faith in rules rather than in God, and we end up determining for our own sense of security who is in and who is out, which means we end up taking removing Jesus and the angels from the story and put ourselves in their place. When we start supposing that we can determine who we believe to be weeds and who we believe to be wheat, we end up exalting ourselves to the place of Jesus, and not surprisingly, folks who engage in this type of supposition also end up placing themselves on the side of the wheat, not the weeds.
Whenever we start trying to determine who is wheat and who is weeds, we also end up making the same first mistake of Adam and Eve, eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Such determinations are not ours to make, and Jesus expressly forbids our doing so. So on the one hand we aren’t supposed to make determinations about who is good and who is evil, and on the other hand, we don’t have to. There is great relief in not having to determine who is good and who is evil. There is great relief in not having to determine even if it is so clear cut as good and evil, black and white. Thankfully, we don’t have to make those determinations.
So, rather than try to justify God’s sovereignty and make ourselves feel better by assuring ourselves that someone else is the weeds and we are of course the wheat, we can take comfort in the idea that God will eventually judge justly and eradicate all evil, all malice and fear, all hatred and enmity. God doesn’t do so right now, because we are all so interconnected that removing all evil right now would destroy us all. That’s another question I often hear asked, “Why does God allow bad things to happen?” Because removing all evil right now would destroy us all. Remember also, that when we determine who is evil and who is good, one person’s evil enemy is another person’s hero. If we got to determine who is evil and who is good, there would be none of us left.
As much as we may want to, ours is not to answer such questions. Ours is to trust in the way of Jesus who prayed for God to forgive the evildoers who killed him. “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing,” Jesus prayed. Ours is to forgive others even as we have been forgiven. Ours is to trust the Word of God which spoke all of creation into existence, to trust that the Word of God which became human as the person of Jesus just might have a good idea about how to run the universe which he created.
Then, we continually seek Jesus’ help in our lives, to live out his kingdom now. We get to seek Jesus’ help to eradicate evil from ourselves and to live out God’s kingdom as best we can now. Freed from having to run the universe, we get to trust Jesus who is the way and the truth and the life. We get to live with his light within us, and we get to share that light with others.
We get to live and share his kingdom, and what is life like in God’s Kingdom here on earth? Well, at least in this life, it is full of joys and sorrows, full of missteps and faithful following in Jesus’ way. Life in God’s Kingdom is full of grace and compassion, understanding and forgiveness, messing up and reconciliation. God’s kingdom is full of joining together to help one another in times of adversity, and joining together to celebrate in times of joy. Rather than trusting in rugged self-reliance, the hubris of earned or deserved wealth, and a lofty self-appointment as being wheat among the weeds, life in God’s kingdom is life lived together, putting our trust in Jesus and in each other, sharing with others what we have been given by God.
As we said at camp last week, we trust in Jesus and follow in his ways, for he is the way, and the truth, and the life. We trust the light of Jesus within us. We trust in his goodness and ability to order well the universe that he created. We live life not with continual fear, wondering are we wheat or are we weeds. We live life in God’s Kingdom, life lived full of the assurance that we are one with Jesus and Jesus is with us.
Brad Sullivan Proper 7, Year A June 25, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Genesis 21:8-21 Romans 6:1b-11 Matthew 10:24-39
Come On, Jesus! You’re Supposed to Be the Prince of Peace!
Several times last week, someone would ask me what the Gospel reading is for this Sunday, and every time I told them, their reaction was, “Oh, yuck, I hate that passage.” Honestly, that was my reaction too. “I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.” Come on, Jesus, you’re supposed to be the Prince of Peace, not the Prince of Jerry Springer.
I could say that Jesus’ talking about family members being against each other harkens back to Micah 7:6 - “For the son treats the father with contempt, the daughter rises up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.” Obviously that passage was in Jesus’ mind, but the context was that things had gotten so bad in Israel, that Micah was describing how things were, families were against each other, and children were treating their parents with contempt. It would be a little disingenuous, therefore, to say, Jesus was just trying to remind people of scripture. He didn’t say children were treating their parents badly. He was saying that because of him, because of people believing in him and following his teachings, parents and children were going to turn against each other. Those who didn’t follow him were going to turn against those who did.
This really isn’t all that surprising to those who have read the Gospel. Jesus was a polarizing figure. On the one hand he healed people and was a champion of the outcast and downtrodden. He had a lot of wonderful teachings which we love to hear like “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” On the other hand, Jesus wasn’t just the easy listening station. There was a lot of metal in him too, a good bit of raging against the machine of religious moral superiority coupled with economic and social injustice.
Jesus did not mince words when denouncing religious leaders who demanded religious perfection from others and yet did not care for the vulnerable and needy. “Woe to you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, for you devour widow’s houses and for the sake of appearances, say long prayers.” (Matthew 23:14) Woe to you, Scribes and Pharisees, because y’all are supposed to be using the money given to you by faithful Jews to help the vulnerable. You’re supposed to be helping widows and helping others who have a hard time getting by. Instead, you’re demanding that they do their religious duty and pay up in order to beautify the Temple. Do you really think God will be pleased with a pretty building when his people are suffering?
If you really want to please God, Jesus taught, then love God and love people. Love people. Care for them. Help them mightily in their hours of need. Take up your cross daily, and follow me. Sacrifice your own safety and security in order to help people who are vulnerable, needy, down and out, rejected, and downtrodden. Love God and love people…and don’t even pretend that you love God if you don’t love people. There’s no way we can love God through our religion, if we don’t love people through our daily lives and actions.
Folks like the Scribes and Pharisees, who dotted the “I”s and crossed the “T”s of their religious duties, didn’t like hearing that they actually had to care about people. They didn’t like hearing that they would actually have to sacrifice some of their own comfort and security in order to help those less fortunate and (according to their theology) less deserving people. “I have what I have because I’m a good, God-fearing person, and I earned it,” they thought. “Those others would be better off than they are if they feared God like I do and worked harder.”
That was pretty well what folks thought of the poor and the down and out back then, and Jesus was having none of it. “No guys, the kingdom of God belongs to them too, and the kingdom of God is actualized in this world when you who have enough and more than enough, do all in your power to make sure that those who don’t have enough are cared for as well.” Folks didn’t like hearing that. In fact, folks killed Jesus for saying things like that.
Jesus was a polarizing figure. Folks who really engaged with Jesus either loved him or were pretty turned off and scandalized by him. He claimed to be God. He claimed to be the way and the truth and the life. He upset people’s comfortable focus on themselves, and forced them to take a hard look at others and their needs, and he taught folks to take a hard look at their own lives and see how their lives might be harming others. Truly taking Jesus seriously today, he is still a polarizing figure. You can love him, you can be pretty turned off by him, or you can assume he really didn’t mean or say much of what he said.
When we do take seriously living as he taught, believing in Jesus as the way, the truth, and the life, then some people are going to turn against us. Heck, even grace is going to turn people against us. Grace is great for those whom we feel deserve it, but what about when we follow in Jesus’ way and offer grace for those who don’t really deserve it? That’s going to anger some people, and Jesus would have us do so anyway, rather than take the easy road and get on the bandwagon of self-righteousness and condemnation.
“Take up your cross daily,” Jesus said, “and follow me.” Let parts of you die, daily, in order to offer grace to others. Let some of your needs die in order to help provide for the needs of others. Be willing to accept the deaths of relationships that will come when people turn against you for truly taking Jesus seriously.
A friend and colleague of Kristin’s was at a fundraiser and raffle to support a girls’ softball team in his community. One of the raffle items was an AR-15, and this man really doesn’t like guns. So, he spent thousands of dollars on raffle tickets, won the rifle, and had a friend help him turn it into gardening tools. Swords into plowshares. He took an instrument of death, and turned it into instruments of life, and he has received death threats for having done so. He’s lost friends, received thousands of hateful messages, and he’d do it again, seeking life, rather than the possibility of death.
Jesus’ teaching that he has come to set family members against each other is still not my favorite passage to hear. It’s not exactly the feel good film of the summer. The reality of suffering ridicule, of straining and even losing relationships over taking Jesus seriously is, however, the way of Jesus. What Jesus taught in our Gospel passage today is the way of him who is the truth and the life. Do we dare take Jesus seriously? Imagine the world if we do. Imagine the changes in the world when we and other Christians acknowledge and share our faith in Jesus not through religious moral superiority while ignoring the problems of others, but rather through living and sharing our faith in Jesus by daily sacrificing greatly for the sake of others. That’s life following the way of Jesus, life in the Jesus movement.
Thinking only about myself, hearing today’s passage leaves me not wanting to hear Jesus’ words. Thinking about others, however, I want to hear more of today’s passage. Thinking about others, I find hope and joy in today’s passage. We get to be part of the Jesus movement in which we sacrifice some of our own safety and security for the sake of others, to provide safety and security to those who don’t have enough. We get to accept grace for all those times when we don’t follow Jesus all that well, and we get to offer grace to those who don’t deserve it. We get to offer grace even to those who would turn against us for taking Jesus seriously and following him as the way, the truth, and the life. We get to be part of the Jesus movement, knowing that there will be consequences, and choosing for the love of others, to follow Jesus.
Brad Sullivan Trinity Sunday, Year A June 11, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston 2 Corinthians 13:11-13 Matthew 28:16-20
Love, Grace, and Communion: The Holy Trinity
A couple of years ago on Trinity Sunday, I had this idea to preach about God as a frosted Donut, as a way of describing the Trinity, with The Father as the dough part, Jesus as the frosting, and the Holy Spirit as the hole, where, it’s kinda hard to define, it’s kinda hard to explain the Holy Spirit, but it isn’t a donut without the hole. Thankfully for the sake of the congregation a couple of years back, I decided not to do that. It would basically be heresy, unless it’s Shipley’s Donuts, but in all seriousness, I’ve heard similar approaches to describing the Trinity, such as, “God is like an egg” with the shell, white, yoke: three and yet one. Of course that’s three parts that make the whole egg, rather than three whole persons who make the whole God. Honestly, if we’re going in that direction, I kinda like the donut thing better, but the big problem with any such means of trying to describe God as a trinity of persons is none of those metaphors say anything at all about God as a relationship of persons. The relationship is key to who God is and what God is as a single God in Trinity of persons.
So as an analogy for understanding God as being three persons and yet one God, I’d like for us to think about our own relationships. Are we closer to people whom we have never met and don’t even know exist, or are we closer to people whom we love deeply? Obviously, we are closer to people whom we love deeply. We know them intimately. We get to know the deep parts of who they are. As we love more and more, we become more and more connected to a person, and while we are still distinct persons, we become more and more united as our love for each other grows.
Ok, so multiply that by infinity, and we have some understanding of God as three persons united so completely in love for one another that they are one. It still doesn’t entirely make sense to our rational little brains, but it also kinda does. God is a relationship of persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, each fully God, and yet each distinct from the other, so completely united in a continual dance of love that they are one.
Then there are, of course, the inevitable questions of this Trinity of persons such as, “which one came first?” “Oh, they’ve always been together as one.” “But I thought the son proceeded from the father?” “Yeah, that’s right.” “So when did that happen? How long was the Father around before the Son proceeded from him?” “Oh no, they’ve always been together forever.”
Whenever we try to tease out all the specifics of how God as a Trinity of persons works we generally end up with God as a frosted donut. Tasty, but perhaps an understanding of God as Trinity comes less from our brains and more from our hearts.
Think about how much logical sense some of our relationships make? Brain work or heart work? God is described after all as love, not logical rational sense. Consider how Paul ended his second letter to the church in Corinth. “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” Those are words of the heart.
Love. The basis of all our relationships. The best of who we are. Peaceful, giving, not worried or concerned about what’s next, but content with now and fully present with the person right in front of us, fully honoring the person right in front of us. Love means seeing ourselves as we truly are, warts and all, and not only accepting who we are, but delighting in who we are. Love means seeing others as they truly are, warts and all, and not only accepting who they are, but delighting in who they are. Love means seeing our common humanity, that divine spark, divine image in which we were all made, and living into and honoring that common humanity. Love means giving for the sake of the other and also receiving from the other. Love means honoring, accepting, and delighting in each other, recognizing and celebrating the beauty in each of us.
Grace…for all the times we don’t love. Grace. Forgiveness and understanding. Compassion and empathy. Grace is forgiving others for the hurt they have caused us. Grace is looking at those who have harmed us and seeing them through eyes of compassion and empathy, offering some understanding that they are wounded as well, and they only hurt out of their own hurt and fear. Grace is saying “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing,” even as they nail you to a cross. Grace is the acknowledgement of our common humanity, our common weakness, our common harming of each other and offering peace to those who have harmed us, even as we accept peace from others, accept in our own hearts for the harm we have caused.
Communion. Delighting in time spent together. Shared meals. Shared endeavors. Shared lives. With love and grace, we share and join together with others, enjoying the love we share, grateful for the grace we give and receive, free to be fully who we are, loved and accepted by others without pretense or show, without hiding our true selves, unashamedly being seen, seeing others, giving and receiving love, and gratefully receiving and giving grace. We enjoy life together, and we share our lives with one another.
You want to know what God is like as a Trinity of persons? Who or what do we understand God to be? Love, Grace, and Communion.
Love does not exist without grace and communion. Grace does not exist without love and communion. Communion does not exist without love and grace. Each are distinct, and yet they are inseparable.
With such a life of love, grace, and communion, Jesus told his disciples to go and baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go and baptize into the way, into the very life of love, grace, and communion. We baptize and are baptized into the life of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We baptize and are baptized into the life of God who is love, grace, and communion.
Echoing and reminding us of Jesus’ command to his disciples to go and baptize in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, I say this day to go and invite people into the life of God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Go and invite people into the life of God who is love, grace, and communion. Live the life of love, and grace, and communion. Life the very life of God; Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Live that life with others in how you love them, how you offer them grace, and how you share communion with them. Say to those who are spiritual but not religious that the life of love, grace, and communion is the life of God. Say to those who have been harmed by churches preaching an angry God who hates most of who and what we are that such a God does not exist, but is the vain invention of fearful men.
Say to them that the God we know, the God we worship, the God whose very life we live is love, grace, and communion. Go and teach them about God who is love, grace, and communion; God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Baptize them with your words. Share communion with them in your actions. Love them well, and ask for grace for those times when you don’t love them well. Share the very life of God, the very life of Jesus, and invite them to be disciples of Jesus as well, sharing also in the life of God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; God who is love, grace, and communion.
Brad Sullivan 7 Easter, Year A May 28, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston John 17:1-11 Love Is Gritty, Love Is Hard, Love Is an Empty Tomb
I had a conversation with a nine year old last week about this Sunday’s gospel passage. I read it to him and then asked him what he thought. He said that it sounded like Jesus and the Father saying, “If we get to be in heaven for ever, why don’t the people on earth get to?” Meaning, “why shouldn’t the people on earth get to be with us in heaven forever as well?”, and of course, we do. That was Jesus’ life’s work and his prayer for his disciples which we heard today, that they would be one and he and the Father are one.
The Father, and the Son, and the (not mentioned in this passage) Holy Spirit want us to be one with them and each other just as they are one. There’s nothing better in the world, nothing better in all of the universes than the unity of Jesus and the Father and that’s the unity Jesus is praying for us to have! That unity with each other and unity with God is being with God in heaven forever, and I don’t mean because we have unity with God, then we’ll get to be with God in heaven forever. I mean having unity with God and each other is right now being in heaven with God forever.
Heaven is all around us. The Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of Heaven is here, now, in the very air we breathe, for in God we live and move and have our being. Jesus was praying for our unity with each other and God now, for eternal life now. “And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” Knowing Jesus, following in his way, believing in him is eternal life, lived in this world, in this life, and continued on after death, in the next life, for there is nothing better in the world, nothing better in all of the universes than the unity of Jesus and the Father, and that’s the unity Jesus is praying for us to have!
At the same time that Jesus was praying for his disciples, praying for us, however, did you notice how much he was talking about himself? Glorify me so that I may glorify you? Much of John’s Gospel has Jesus talking about himself. There is very little teaching about God’s kingdom, few moral lessons, no parables…almost all of Jesus’ teaching involves an explanation about who he is and why people need to believe in him. “I am one with the Father, I am the good shepherd, I am the vine, I am so humble and yet so awesome.” Ok, that last one was made up; in John’s Gospel, we don’t get the humble, self-effacing Jesus we see in Mathew, Mark, and Luke. Jesus is constantly talking about himself and kinda saying how great he is. This is a bit of a side bar, but John’s Jesus often sounds to a bit to me like the rapper Eminem in the rap song Without Me: “This looks like a job for me, so everybody, just follow me, cause we need a little controversy, and it feels so empty without me.”
I realize in saying that, I just secured about 7 more years for myself in purgatory, comparing Jesus and Eminem, (he’s a child of God), but often, as I read John’s Gospel, I am struck by how much Jesus sounds like a rapper rapping about himself. Rappers that I have heard tend to rap about themselves especially early on in their careers, as if to introduce themselves: “here’s who I am, here’s my story, here’s why I’m legitimate and worth your listening to, and here’s the story within me that is screaming to get out.”
That’s kinda what Jesus was doing in John’s Gospel. Jesus was constantly telling people about who he was, how great he was, and how much they needed to believe in him. Of course that’s what he was doing, because of who Jesus was and because there were so many false narratives out there about life and about God. The narrative about Jesus was screaming to get out of him. The narrative about what life truly is, about who God truly is was screaming to get out of Jesus, and he only had that one life, that one chance to tell the narrative of God, the narrative of love.
Jesus had one chance, and he didn’t want to blow it, so he taught people how to live, how to love, he taught about God’s kingdom, he showed them what life was like in God’s kingdom so they could live out God’s kingdom, and he taught about himself, because at the heart of God’s kingdom is Jesus. The heart and soul of God’s kingdom is the new Eden, the new creation where we walk with God and each other, naked and unashamed, and the heart and soul of that new Eden is Jesus.
So Jesus did talk about himself because he wanted everyone to know and share in the eternal life of the new Eden which is unity with him and the Father. Remember, there is nothing better in the world, nothing better in all of the universes than the unity of Jesus and the Father, and that’s the unity Jesus was praying for us to have!
That unity, known by another word is love, and not just sappy, hallmarky, pop song love. Love is the cross. That’s where Jesus was going just after the prayer he prayed for his disciples. Love is sacrifice for the sake of the beloved. Love is gritty; love is hard; love is not pouty or jealous, boastful or rude. It makes a way for the beloved; it does the hard work of seeking peace and working through resentment. Love does not rejoice in wrongdoing; love repents of wrongdoing and seeks to heal past hurts. Love rejoices in kindness and truth, and love prefers having a good relationship to just being right. Love bears the good times and hardships. Love believes in the beloved. Love makes its home in hope, and love endures all things for the sake of the beloved.
Love goes to the cross for the sake of the beloved. Love kneels at the foot of the cross to mourn for the beloved. Love is tears and joy. Love is laughter and pain. Love is sticking by the beloved through sickness and death. Love is caring about someone through their anxieties, doubts, and fears. Love is not wanting more and more, not demanding what is deserved, but being content with enough so that another can also have enough.
Love is also an empty tomb. Love is new life, new creation. Love is joy in each new day, each new moment. Love is setting aside the past to be made new in the present. Love is trusting in Jesus’ resurrection, trusting in his narrative about God, and life, and himself. Love is eternal life, knowing God and Jesus Christ whom he sent. There is nothing greater in all the world, nothing greater in all of the universes than love, and love is the unity of Jesus and the Father, the unity and gritty kind of love that Jesus is praying for us to have, for us to be in heaven forever with him and the Father.
Brad Sullivan 4 Easter, Year A May 7, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Acts 2:42-47 John 10:1-10
Thieves and Bandits
Jesus said, “All who came before me are thieves and bandits...The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” Those who came before Jesus were those who were seen as a messiah, an anointed one of God. There was a messianic fervor in Jesus’ time, a great desire for one to arise who would be the messiah, the anointed one to drive Rome out of Israel and to lead Israel into a time of peace and prosperity, a time that would last forever. They were wanting a new king over Israel as the messiah, the anointed one, because the anointed ones were the kings of Israel. David, king David who slew Goliath was the second of these anointed ones, these kings. David was seen as the greatest of all the kings of Israel, and by what Jesus said, he was a thief and bandit.
See, God was not overly enamored of Israel’s desire to have a king rule over them. God even warned Israel what would happen if they placed a king over themselves. In 1 Samuel, God said to Israel that if you place a king over you, he will take your sons for his chariots and horsemen; your daughters to be perfumers, cooks, and bakers. He will take the best of your fields, vineyards, and olive orchards to give to his friends; and 1/10 of your grain and vineyards to give to his officers and his friends. He will take your servants and the best of your cattle, 1/10 of your flocks, and “you shall be his slaves.”
Now, being that the people of Israel thought things through about as well as we do, they said, “sounds great; sign us up!” Now, some of the kings of Israel were pretty good, some were ok, and some were rancidly terrible, but they were all anointed ones, all messiahs. They were all seen as the new savior of Israel, and according to Jesus, they were all thieves and bandits. They made war. They conquered and were conquered. They took from the people in order to bring about their conquests, and they took from the people in order to live in the opulence fitting for a king.
Jesus did something different. Jesus did not seek conquest. He did not kill. He did not take from his subjects in order to live like a king, instead he lived simply. Jesus was anointed by God, the messiah, and he led his people by being the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep. Many people had wanted to raise Jesus up as their earthly king, as their earthly anointed messiah to lead a revolt against Rome, and he could have let them. He could have chosen that; he had every right to, being, you know, God, but he didn’t. Jesus chose instead to be killed, rather than have thousands or even millions be killed in order to drive Rome out for the sake of some insults, some hardships, and a building.
That’s really what it came down to, right? Rome ruled over Israel and collected taxes from them, usually taking more than they were supposed to. Corruption abounded. They began appointing the high priest over Israel, desecrated the Temple in various ways, stole from the temple, and heaped contempt upon contempt for the Jewish people and their religion. Insults, hardships, and a building. Jews began to radicalize amidst the oppression of Rome and the messianic fervor of the age, and in the year 66, the great revolt began against Rome. The Jews rebelled and won their first couple of battles again Rome. After that, things did not go well. Hundreds of thousands of Jews were killed fighting in the great revolt, and in the year 70, the Temple was destroyed by Rome.
Then in 132, the Bar-Kokhba revolt began. Shimon Bar-Kokhba was yet another messianic figure who led a three year revolt against Rome. This revolt cost hundreds of thousands of more Jewish lives and also ended in defeat. All told, estimates are that over a million and a half Jews were killed in these two revolts, the Temple was destroyed, and in the year 135, the entire nation of Israel was destroyed, the people taken into slavery or forced to move elsewhere.
“The thief comes in only to steal and kill and destroy,” Jesus said. The people of Israel followed thieves and bandits, and their lives were stolen from them. Husbands and fathers became killers. Men with livelihoods took up the sword and were killed. Their whole way of life, indeed their entire nation, was destroyed.
“I came that they may have life,” Jesus said, “and have [life] abundantly.” The earliest disciples of Jesus followed a different path than the path laid out by the thieves and bandits who led Israel. Jesus’ small band of disciples followed him as their shepherd, as the gate to fields of life abundant. They followed in his ways. When they were kicked out of the Synagogue, they did not argue that they deserved to be there, they simply met in people’s homes instead. When Rome said they couldn’t meet in the temples of the Roman gods, they did not demand a right of worship, but met elsewhere. They followed Jesus, the good shepherd, and God added daily to their numbers. They were a people without a nation, a people of many nations, living wherever they were, following and believing in Jesus. They didn’t have doctrine yet. They didn’t have a set of beliefs about Jesus other than his teachings, his death, and his resurrection. People followed him, believed in him and his way, and they received life, abundantly.
Like the people of Israel, the earliest Christians were living under the corrupt and oppressive government of Rome which didn’t care one whit if any of them lived or died, but rather than fight that government, they banded together and provided for each other as there was need. They cared about each other more than they cared about their stuff, and they cared about each other more than they cared about fighting against Rome.
They were, as we read in Psalm 1, like trees planted by streams of living water. I know, it’s a mixed metaphor, shepherds and trees, but we’ll go with it. Trusting in Jesus, following in his ways, and banding together to care for one another, the earliest Christians became a forest fed and nurtured by the abundant life of Jesus. Together, this forest had fruit in abundance, and they shared their fruit with others, even the small woodland creatures who were not a part of the forest, who did not work for their fruit. They provided shade and fruit for these creatures living in their forest, and they and even let some make their homes in their branches, and these other creatures became trees as well, sharing in the abundant life of Jesus. They were provided for by Jesus, by their trust and faith in him and in his ways, and they shared abundantly with others. Now, men came with axes from time to time, the oppression of Rome, and this forest of the early church even shared abundantly with them. Some of these men became part of the forest themselves. Others of these men came and cut down some of the trees, but the forest remained and continued to have abundant life and to share life abundant, fed by the streams of living water of Jesus and his ways.
This forest of the early church was the new Eden of Jesus. That was Jesus’ kingdom. That was the place where Jesus led his disciples, the new Eden, and the new Eden of Jesus and his way could happen in any kingdom of earth, in any place and in any time. The people of Jesus’ way, of his movement, did not look for an earthly thief or bandit to lead them to steal what others had, to force their rights upon others, to kill, be killed, and destroy. The people of Jesus’ way, his movement, looked to Jesus to lead them beside still waters, to be for them streams of living water so that they could be planted in any place and bring forth fruit and shade to care for those around them, to give to any as there was need. That is life, the life abundant in the Jesus movement, life with Jesus as our shepherd.
Looking at a modern example of a thriving church with life abundant, the church in China is in a similar place as the early church was. The government of China is not overly enamored of Christianity, so while they allow it, they have state sponsored churches, led by earnest Christians, but regulated by the state. Sounds a little like Israel under Rome, doesn’t it. Rather than rebel against the government, however, many Christians in China are simply forming their own churches. They are meeting in homes or other larger building that they own. They aren’t demanding any rights from the government; they are just going ahead and meeting, being the church, and the government is letting them. They come by and check the roles to know who is attending these unregistered churches, but without fighting, with no thieves and bandits to steal, kill, and destroy, these unregistered churches in China are thriving and growing. They are becoming, like the early church, a forest planted by the streams of living water of Jesus and his ways.
Now some in this country still talk about Christianity being attacked by our government. Rather than quibble about whether such oppression is true or untrue, I would say it is irrelevant. Where the church thrives, it thrives not because a government allows it to. The church thrives and becomes the new Eden whenever and wherever the people of the church follow Jesus, trust in him and his ways, and band together, caring for each other more than their rights as a church. When the church follows Jesus and his ways, and when we band together and care for one another, we become the new Eden, a forest planted by streams of living water that thrives and has life abundantly.
Brad Sullivan Easter Vigil, Year A April 15, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Matthew 28:1-10
Why Are We Here? For Proclamation
What are we doing here? It’s Saturday night on a long weekend. We could be out on the town; or staying at home, relaxing; or watching the new Star Wars preview for the 17th, 18th, and 19th times no YouTube. Instead we’re here in church, doing much the same thing and in the same place where we are going to be tomorrow morning. We’ve spent the last 40 days of our Lenten journey preparing for this night. As Jesus spent 40 days in the desert preparing for his ministry and death, as his disciples spent three years with Jesus preparing for their new life in him, we have been preparing. We’ve been learning from Jesus, learning to follow in his way. We’ve been working at re-membering, at joining ourselves back to him. We’ve been learning to rely more and more on Jesus through our Lenten journey.
Not so tonight. Tonight is different. What are we doing here tonight? Tonight we are proclaiming: “The tomb is empty and Jesus is risen.” That is what Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Joseph did on the day of Jesus’ resurrection. Theirs was the first joy of proclamation.
They had gone to the tomb, and the tomb should have smelled of decay, of blood and sweat, and death, but it didn’t. The tomb was empty, and rather than decay, the tomb smelled of new earth and rock, clean and pure. It smelled of new life and new creation, for that is what the empty tomb was, new life.
On the first day of the week, the same day when God proclaimed, “Let there be light,” an angel of light rolled back the stone of Jesus’ empty tomb and showed the women the new life and new creation that had been brought about through Jesus’ death and resurrection. They saw the new light and new life that God had created once again, and then they went.
They went to proclaim Jesus’ resurrection, and Jesus met them on the way. The new life and new creation itself met them, and he smelled of Eden, of earth and trees, of grass and fruit, of life and spring. Seeing him was like seeing the sun rise on a beautiful field after a long, dark, frightful night.
They saw him, and they touched him, this new creation, and then they began their proclamation, the proclamation of the church that has continued on ever since and continues on this very night, across the whole earth, and in this very room. The proclamation of Jesus’ resurrection, of new life and new creation continues on in our lives of service, of prayer, of conversation, and love. The proclamation of Jesus’ resurrection continues on in each person who is baptized in his name.
The act of cleansing, of washing away darkness and following in Jesus’ light is an act of proclamation that the tomb is empty. Blood, and death, and decay have been washed away and transformed into new earth, new life, new light. That is what we are here to do tonight, to continue the proclamation, that God has taken the darkness of the world and said once again, “Let there be light,” for the tomb is empty, and Jesus is risen.
Brad Sullivan Maundy Thursday, Year A April 13, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston John 13:1-17, 31b-35
So, I Tend to Be Kinda Grouchy
I tend to be kinda grouchy. There’s my Good Friday confession a little bit early.
So this has been for me a fantastic Lent. Lent is generally my favorite time of year because it’s this time of year when we get to be more intentional than usual in seeking help from God in some aspect of life, or we seek to give something up so we can further our dependence on God, and this Lent I had not come up with anything to give up by the first Sunday of Lent. Ash Wednesday came and went, and I was thinking, “I don’t know. I don’t eat much chocolate so that’s not going to do much…”
Then I was talking to a Gentleman on the morning of the first Sunday of Lent, and he was talking about how Lent had been great. He had this laundry list of things he had given up. We’re talking chewing tobacco, coffee, alcohol, every coping mechanism a person could have, and he had gotten rid of all of them, and so I was thinking, “That’s gotta stink…,” but it had been a fantastic Lent for him because every time he started thinking about, “I really want this, or I really want that,” he took it as an opportunity to pray. So, he was loving it, because it was this constant drawing nearer to God that he got to have. I was thinking, “Thank you! That should have been obvious, but thank you, and that’s what I’m going to do now.”
So, I decided to give up being grouchy for Lent. There was one night when I was angry and upset, and it wasn’t really about my life, it was listening to the news and hearing about all the awful stuff and getting so incensed about all the bad things in the world and finally saying, with tears streaming down, “God, I cannot take this anymore. Please get rid of this. Get rid of this anger. Get rid of this overreaction to everything. I don’t want it anymore; I’m done with it,” and he took it.
It was gone, and I felt fantastic. I was less grouchy, less grumpy. I had a greater capacity to be a loving person. That has been my Lenten practice for the rest of Lent. Every time I start getting agitated, or worried, or upset about something, I stop, and I pray, “God, please take this from me. I don’t want to deal with it. I can’t deal with it. Please take this from me.” Then I can go about and deal with whatever was getting me upset in a much more loving way.
So it has been a fantastic Lent, and I offer that story because we’re coming to the end of Lent. We’re starting what’s known as the Tridium, the three days, and Maundy Thursday as we’re remembering our abandonment of Jesus at the end of this service. We’re remembering, tomorrow, the crucifixion of Jesus and the horrors of humanity. Talk about grouchy, here was a guy loved people far too much for humanity to allow him to live, and so we’ll be remembering just how huge our capacity for atrocities and darkness is.
Jesus knew that was coming, so he gave his disciples this new commandment, and knowing full well his disciples’ and our capacity for darkness, his final commandment was not a warning against darkness. His final commandment was not, “Guys, try not to be terrible jerks to each other.”
His final commandment was “Love one another. Even as I have love you, love one another,” which tells me that despite our capacity for darkness, Jesus knows that we have a capacity for love, and not just a capacity for love, we have every bit as large a capacity for love as he does. He didn’t say, love one another kinda like, near to how I have loved you. He said, “Love one another as I have loved you.”
We were made in God’s image. Jesus was fully human. So, every bit as much the capacity for love that Jesus has, so do we have. That is what he left his disciples with on the night that he knew they were going to leave. Amidst all of the darkness of the world, amidst all of the darkness that was to come, he wanted them to remember and to live out their capacity for love.
That is what I have found this Lent in asking this continual prayer of help from God, that ultimately, asking God to help us to take away the darkness leaves us free to love. Jesus has taken care of our darkness. He has taken it, and he asks us continually to offer it to him, so that we then may be free to live out a life of love, a life full of every bit as much love for one another as he has for us.
Brad Sullivan 5 Lent, Year A April 2, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston John 11:1-45
We’ll never be transformed if we aren’t willing to walk into the tomb.
Thinking about the raising of Lazarus from the dead got me thinking about death and the fear of death, and that got me thinking about Star Wars. To be fair, most things do, but fear of death is a recurring theme in the Star Wars saga. In Star Wars there is something called “the Force,” an almost divine-like force that some people can tap into and use to perform great feats and do great good. There are others who can tap into the force, but use it selfishly. The way they use the Force is called The Dark Side, and through The Dark Side, they bring about great evil. The tragic hero of Star Wars, Anakin, is one of these good force users, but he is particularly afraid of death and the death of those he loves. So when he receives a vision of his wife dying, he is terrified, and he seeks the advice of the wise, old Master Yoda.
Anakin explains this vision of death, and Yoda says, "Careful you must be when sensing the future, Anakin! The fear of loss is a path to the Dark Side." "I won't let my visions come true, Master Yoda," Anakin replies. Yoda says, "Rejoice for those around us who transform into the Force. Mourn them, do not. Miss them, do not. Attachment leads to jealousy, the shadow of greed, that is." "What must I do, Master Yoda?" Anakin asks. "Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose."
Sadly, Anakin didn’t really take Yoda’s advice and through his fear of death and loss, he ended up acquiring great power through The Dark Side and became an embodiment of evil, the infamous Darth Vader. Anakin was unwilling to face the tomb, for his life and the life of those he loved, and so he became and brought about the very thing he feared.
Now most of us aren’t going to become an embodiment of evil because of our fears, and yet Yoda’s advice still applies to us. “Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.” Jesus said something similar in his teachings about not worrying and about losing our lives. Don’t worry about what you will eat or what you will wear, Jesus taught. “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” (Matthew 6:34) Worrying, he taught, won’t change anything or help you in any way, but it will make you afraid and miserable. Closely tied to not worrying was Jesus’ teaching about our lives. He taught us to let go of that which we fear to lose. “For those who want to save their life will lose it,” Jesus said, “and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”
How much of our time is spent, like Anakin, “sensing the future”, worrying about some possible future catastrophe? How much of our resources are spent trying to stave off death? We fear, we worry, and we take actions that are guided by our fear and our worry of death and loss, and those actions usually bring about greater death and loss. Jesus would prefer that we let go of that which we fear to lose and trust instead in him. That’s what he showed us in his raising of Lazarus from the dead. When Lazarus was deathly ill, Mary and Martha sent for Jesus, and Jesus apparently had every intention of healing Lazarus, but only after he died first, right? Jesus waited around and let Lazarus die before he healed him, and he did so for two reasons: one so that people could see that he, that God, has power even over death, and two because it was very important to Jesus that people believe in him.
Jesus waited around till Lazarus was good and dead before deciding to go to see him in Bethany “so that [he], the Son of God [would] be glorified through [Lazarus’ death and being raised from the dead].” See, just before this story, Jesus had been in Jerusalem and had given sight to a man who was born blind, a miracle so great that no one had ever heard of anything like that ever happening before. Many who did not see Jesus actually perform this miracle, however, did not believe that Jesus had done this, and later, many of them even tried to kill Jesus for claiming to be God’s son.
So, Jesus left Jerusalem, went away across the Jordan River and then received word that Lazarus was sick. When he arrived in Bethany which was very close to Jerusalem, with Lazarus already dead, many Jews from Jerusalem were there mourning with Martha and Mary. Ok so, we don’t know if these were the same people who tried to kill Jesus, but they were from the same place where those doubts and death threats had come. In fact, Jesus’ disciples were afraid of going so near to Jerusalem, believing that they were going to be killed, since last time they were there, people tried to kill Jesus.
So, Jesus returned to Bethany to show people from Jerusalem not only a healing, but to show them that he had power to raise the dead back to life. Jesus wanted these people to believe in him. It was important enough to Jesus that people believe in him, in fact, that he waited for Lazarus to die and risked being killed in order to show that he truly was God’s son, and those who saw believed.
So why was it so important to Jesus that people believe in him, that he would risk so much? Because Jesus wanted to heal them too, and believing in him was the healing they needed. They needed to believe in him who is the light and life of all creation. They needed to believe in his power over death. They needed to believe that his teachings were true, that they could let go of that which they feared to lose, and trust in him. Jesus wanted them and us to believe in him because Jesus knows what our worries and fears bring us when we follow after the ways of our worries and fears.
Ultimately, our worries and fears bring us to The Dark Side, to Darth Vader. Consider when we don’t trust in Jesus and don’t follow in his teachings. Times when we have been hurt and we don’t let go of that hurt, we don’t forgive, and we cause greater strife. Times when because of our hurt and our perceived righteousness, we retaliate and cause further harm. Consider how much suffering is caused by our epic battle with death. How many are killed in order to protect the lives of others. Consider the suffering caused by our battle with all kinds of death: physical, emotional, relational, death of goals, dreams, etc. How often do we try to stave off and prevent death at all cost, rather than accepting death and trusting our lives and our deaths with Jesus?
Trusting in Jesus, believing in him, means letting go of that which we fear to lose. Trusting in Jesus means being willing to face the tomb, trusting in resurrection, in Jesus’ power over death. That’s a lot of trust because even trusting in resurrection, we don’t know what’s going to happen. Trusting in Jesus, we need to let go of that which we fear to lose and accept death in order to be transformed.
A couple I know and gave some counseling to was limping along with their marriage basically on life support. Their marriage was dead, but neither was willing to face that truth. Finally, one did, but rather than simply say, “ok, let’s get divorced,” this person said plainly what their marriage had become and did raise divorce as a possibility. That was a bit of a shock to the other. So, together they began facing the tomb in which their marriage had gone. They looked at what was causing the death of their marriage. They looked at what they each of them were afraid to lose, what each of them had to place into the tomb in order for their marriage to survive. They worked together, and they both allowed some things to die. Some of their dreams of what they wanted their lives to be died. Some of their visions of what they thought marriage should be died. Through those deaths, they found new life. Through their willingness to enter the tomb, their marriage was transformed. They found new life, resurrection, by letting go of that which they feared to lose and entering the tomb.
See, what Jesus ultimately wants for us is transformation. That is why it is so important to him that we listen to him and believe in him. Jesus wants us to be transformed into light and life, and we’ll never be transformed if we aren’t willing to let go of that which we fear to lose and walk into the tomb. If we trust in Jesus and believe in him, then we can accept and face our deaths. We can enter the tomb and be transformed.
Brad Sullivan 2 Lent, Year A March 12, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston John 3:1-17
Babies Crawling On the Ever-Shifting Sands of Time
“They say that these are not the best of times, but they’re the only times I’ve ever known.” That’s from poet and prophet, Billy Joel, in the song Summer Highland Falls. That single idea, that these aren’t the best of times, but they are the only times I’ve ever known, that idea holds true for each new generation, doesn’t it? When we’re first born, the world doesn’t seem crazy and messed up. It just seems like the world, even if it is crazy and messed up. Then we get older and the world seems different, and we get older and the world seems even more different. The world changes more and more, until sometimes folks find themselves living in a world they no longer really recognize or understand.
New folks move into the neighborhood and the neighborhood changes. The constant and regular practices of our religion become less constant, not at all regular, and the younger generations don’t do things the way we used to. Texting replaces written invitations to parties and other events. The interwebs replace print media. Star Wars gets taken over by Disney! Ways of life, unacceptable when we were children are now acceptable decades later. Whatever the changes, they’re happening all the time, all around us. We’re often longing for the past, or the good old days, or the way we did things “back in my day,” and into this longing for the past, this longing for some firm footing on the ever shifting sands of time, Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above.”
Well, if you are born from above, then what are you, or what is your spirit, but that of a newborn baby? See babies and children don’t long for the good old days. They see the world around them, and they can live in it and accept the world as it is. They can see God in the world all around them. The Kingdom of God is not hidden from the eyes of infants and children because they aren’t looking for God’s Kingdom in some longed-for and likely over-romanticized past. Infants and children can simply live into God’s Kingdom in the ever changing present.
Our ties to the past are not a bad thing in and of themselves. They give us wisdom and some grounding in the ever-shifting sands of time, but those very ties to the past, when tied too tightly, end up binding us so that we can no longer move, and we see the sands a-shifting, we see the times a-changing, and we become afraid. That is how Nicodemus felt when he came to Jesus stating, “we know that you are a teacher who has come from God…” Nicodemus made a statement, declaring that Jesus was from God, but Nicodemus also came to Jesus at night. He was curious about Jesus, but he was also frightened. Jesus didn’t mesh with what he thought he knew about God’s Kingdom, and behind Nicodemus’ statement that Jesus had come from God, was a question. “How can it be that you come from God, when what you say and do, while like what God taught, seems so different from the religion that I know?”
Something of what Jesus said and did resonated very deeply with Nicodemus. In Jesus, Nicodemus could see the Kingdom of God, and at the same time, Jesus was different than the religion of Nicodemus’ childhood and training, and the fear that Nicodemus felt at that difference was eclipsing his curiosity. Be born from above, Jesus said. Be a baby again, full of curiosity and without fear, trusting not in the past, but in God and God’s Kingdom all around you.
In these first weeks of Lent, Emmanuel has decided to get curious about God and God’s Kingdom all around us. On Ash Wednesday, we had our regular services here, and we also changed how we’d always done things by bringing ashes and prayers with us out into the surrounding community for “Ashes to Go,” something churches have been doing close to about 10 years now, actually. We went out into the world, where Jesus already was, and we both offered moments of grace in the ashes and prayer, the holy things of our church, and we received moments of grace from the people we met. We didn’t bring Jesus to anyone. Jesus was already there, and we got to encounter Jesus together. So, we’re going to hear stories from a couple of the folks who went out for “Ashes to Go.”
J: Good morning, I was one of the Ashes to Go people who went to the park and ride. There were about six of us gathered near where people get off the bus, and my main job was to hold the sign up that said, “Ashes to Go,” so as many people as possible could see it, but I was a part of some interactions there, and I found the whole thing to be moving to me and to other people also. There was one young couple there who drove up and asked one of us to go over to them. One of our members went to them, and they asked us to pray for them because they wanted to have a baby. So she prayed for them, not only that they would have a baby, but that God would bless them in ways to make their lives full. Many folks would come by, and some would look at us like “are you serious?”, and others would give us a big smile, some would say, “I went this morning.” It was a start, a good start, and I hope it will continue. Thank you.
R: Good morning. For myself, it was also a very spiritual experience. Like our sister said, we had a sign that said, “Ashes to Go,” and next year we need three signs so we can spread out a bit more. The first person who came up to us said, “Is this for real?” During the hour we were there, so many people came up with different outward expressions of the Holy Spirit that had gone into them. Some were smiling. Some weren’t sure. There were people who’d be coming off the bus, and you could see that they were tired, but when they saw the sign, they got a skip in their step, they were smiling at us, and it was beautiful, it was wonderful. There was one lady who came up, and she had a lot on her mind; she was very quiet, and we asked if she would like to have ashes. She said, “no thank you,” and she walked past. Then she stopped and came back and asked for prayer for her son. So we prayed together for her son, and then she said, “Now I would like ashes.” So it was incredible to experience this, and I hope we all have the opportunity to do this again, and I will volunteer for next year. Thank you very much.
L: Good day. I was not part of taking the ashes to the street, but Brad gave my family Ashes to Go, a little take home packet and Ash Wednesday service. For the past five years, I’ve been to St. Mark’s Episcopal for the 7:00 a.m. service since it fit my schedule, but this year, my schedule didn’t allow me to go to make that service, and my wife and I couldn’t make the evening service here, and Brad knew that, so he gave us Ashes to Go for our home. I mentioned it to a neighbor, who mentioned it to another neighbor, and we ended up with seven people in our home that evening, and we read through the service together. I started the service, and our daughter wanted to read the scripture. After she got through about a paragraph, she wanted to read the second scripture, and then the third scripture, and we had a little bit of a tug of war so my wife and I could read a scripture, and we all got our scripture in. From that, our neighbors were there and participating, and as Brad said, we didn’t bring Jesus to anyone, but we found him together in our house that night, and it was very moving. I think if anyone can do that and open up, which we all can, tell someone, and I will be part of next year’s on the street. I think that’s great, and I’ll make time. Thank you.
We never know where or in whom we might encounter God, for God’s Spirit blows where it chooses, and we do not know where it comes from or where it goes. Beyond the Church, God’s Kingdom shows up all the time, in all kinds of different ways, from the mystical to the mundane. God’s Kingdom isn’t overly concerned with the artifices of any longed-for past because God’s Kingdom has been ever present in through and beyond all of our presents and all of our pasts.
In ancient Israel, when a foreigner, Naomi, clung to her mother-in-law, Ruth’s, neck and said, “I will not leave you,” God’s Kingdom was present. When Jesus said, “neither do I condemn you,” and “Father forgive them,” God’s Kingdom was present. In 15th century England, in the birth of the Anglican Church, God’s Kingdom was present. During that same time, when Europeans began coming to this land, God’s Kingdom was present. God’s Kingdom was present in this land, in fact, long before Europeans arrived with Christianity, or was God not here yet? God’s Kingdom has been present during times of darkness in this land and during times of light. God’s Kingdom has been ever-present in this and every land throughout all time, showing up whenever and in whomever it would.
Some, like Nicodemus, would see it and think, “that can’t be God’s Kingdom, it doesn’t fit with what I know.” Fortunately, God isn’t bound by what we know in our ties to the past. So it is with those who are born of the Spirit. They are babies once again, tethered to the past, but also free to live in the world as it is rather than as it was, free to be curious about the world, free to explore as all newborn babies do. Newborn babies, born not of the flesh, but of the Spirit, is what Jesus has formed us and called us to be, over and over again, to enter back into God’s womb and are then born once again. Jesus has sent us out to live and proclaim God’s Kingdom, wherever it happens to be, even in the crazy newness of our constantly changing world, and the ever-shifting sands of time upon which we travel.
Brad Sullivan Last Epiphany, Year A February 26, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston Matthew 17:1-9
The Freedom to Fail
“Man glows on top of mountain, disciples respond stupidly” I think that’s pretty much what the newspaper headline would read for the transfiguration. The article would follow: Itinerant preacher and Rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth, stunned his disciples yesterday when, in a remarkable lack of his characteristic humility, Jesus began glowing on top of a mountain, revealing himself as God, and then asking his Father for a mic drop, as a bright cloud covered the terrified disciples and God’s voice declared Jesus to be his son.
The article would go on and probably miss a lot of the grace that was going on with the Transfiguration, the newspaper reporter totally transfixed by the majesty and awe. To be fair, I’ve been transfixed by the majesty and awe of the Transfiguration many times. Jesus’ full divinity shining in and through his full humanity, it really is pretty darn spectacular, and at the same time, to be honest, having preached about the Transfiguration at least one out of every two Sundays the story comes to us each year for the past eleven years, the excitement and splendor of Jesus glowing on top of the mountain just wasn’t speaking to me this time. What struck me about the Transfiguration this time around was not the majesty and awe of God, but the grace of God.
The disciples were terrified, right, face down in the dirt, trembling with fear, and Jesus saw his disciples and with the gentle touch of a mother or father comforting a frightened child, Jesus leaned over them and said, “It’s ok, you can get up now. You don’t have to be afraid.”
I’d never noticed before this week that Jesus touched his disciples, that gentle, comforting, loving gesture, but there it was, a touch full of compassion and understanding, a touch full of grace. That touch is how Jesus responded to his disciples when they were overcome by sheer terror at the majesty and awesomeness of God.
Like the disciples, I too have experienced sheer terror, the day after my son was born. First there was immense love, joy, excitement, majesty, awe, wonder at my son’s birth…all of that followed by sheer terror when the nurses let us know that they weren’t continue to help us with the baby boy, but we actually had to take him home and care for him ourselves. “Can’t we just make a booth for him here and come visit?”
My point is that when my first son was born, I had a strong sense of awe at the responsibility of having helped to create a new human person and then the responsibility of caring for, loving, and nurturing that person. I did not feel ready for it, and amidst the joy, and wonder, and absolute love of holding my baby boy for the first time, I also found myself on my knees, face down in the dirt, feeling completely unworthy of such a task. So, I think I get some of what the disciples were going through up on the mountain, and then amidst the awe and wonder, excitement and joy, as well as terror and feeling totally inadequate and unworthy, Jesus touched them and me and said, “Get up and do not be afraid.” “It’s ok that y’all are terrified. It’s ok that you’re feeling totally inadequate to the task. I’m here. I’m with you. Keep listening to me, as my dad just said. Get up, and do not be afraid.”
For all of us in all of those times in our lives when we’re driven to our knees by how inadequate we are, Jesus touches us on the shoulder and says, “Get up, and do not be afraid. You may well not be up to the task, and that’s ok.” In that gentle touch, in those words, get up and do not be afraid, Jesus has given us the freedom to fail. He’s given us the freedom to follow him, to strive, to mess up, and to fail, face down in the dirt, fail.
I read an article in the most recent New Yorker about children’s author Mo Willems. His books are some of our family’s favorites, and the article talked about his how his books reveal a preoccupation with failure, even an alliance with it. In ‘Elephants Cannot Dance!,’ they can’t; in ‘Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!,’ Pigeon, despite all his pleading and cajoling, never does. Willems told [The New Yorker], ‘At “Sesame Street,” they would give us these workshops about the importance of failure, but then in our skits all the characters had to be great at what they did, everything had to work out. That drove me crazy.’ The article went on a bit about artists understanding the importance of failure, and I was struck by Willems’ understanding of children needing to learn not only the important lessons that come with failure, but also that it is ok to fail, otherwise our worth is predicated upon our success. You remember that time in Matthew’s gospel when Jesus told his disciples that they had to succeed in everything they did if they wanted to be worthy of him and his Father? Yeah, me neither.
The freedom to fail means the freedom to risk, the freedom to strive, the freedom to dare greatly, and to end up face down in the dirt, to be met by Jesus’ gentle touch saying, “It’s ok. Get up, and do not be afraid.”
The freedom to fail that Jesus has given us also means Jesus has given us the freedom to follow him as his disciples and to join our lives with his, continuing his movement in the world, living and bringing about his Kingdom of love. Following in Jesus’ way, the heart of Jesus that begins to grow in us saying, “I want to offer that love and freedom to fail to others. I want to offer that healing, gentle touch to others. I see people down on their knees - some in fear, some having been beaten down there by life, some with heavy burdens on their backs so they can no longer stand. I want to offer them that gentle touch of Jesus so they too can be healed, live without that fear or anything else driving them to their knees so that they can stand and be not afraid and know the love of being loved.
Sometimes this is in big work, offering food and shelter to folks in need. Folks come by here fairly regularly asking for help with money or food, sometimes the same people come fairly regularly. One instinct we can have is to wonder, “What’s going on? Why aren’t you getting things together that you keep having to come back here?” That’s an instinct I have, an instinct that I wrestle with. Jesus’ freedom to fail, however, says something very different. Jesus’ freedom to fail sees someone face down in the dirt and offers them neither judgment nor ridicule, but a gentle touch and the words, “Get up and do not be afraid.”
We don’t always know the right thing to do, but following Jesus, when we see people face down in the dirt, we offer them grace and love, rather than judgment and criticism. This can also come in really simple ways. I was in a doctors’ office several months ago with, I don’t know, one of our kids, and I struck up a conversation with a mother in the waiting room. We quickly began talking about the challenges of parenting and the stresses of our children, and about five minutes in, you’d have thought raising kids was the worst thing in the world. Apparently we needed to get that off of our chests.
Then I thought, “where’s the grace of Jesus in all this?” Where’s that gentle touch saying, “get up and do not be afraid.” So during a lull in the conversation, I asked, “tell me about a recent moment of grace with your kids.” The whole conversation shifted. We began talking about how fantastic our little buggers are, how much we love our kids, even though they often are little buggers, and we even began talking about our mutual faith in Jesus. Realize, we had just met, but that one simple question, “tell me about a recent moment of grace with your kids,” that question was the gentle touch of Jesus, lifting our heads out of the dirt and allowing us not to be hidden by our failures as parents, but engaged with one another such that we could even risk sharing our faith, in a doctors’ office. It was a small moment, but it was the Kingdom of God being lived out, two people recognizing their mutual brokenness, connecting through the grace and gentle touch of Jesus, and then being healed even in that moment, being reconciled within themselves and with another person. With that small moment of Jesus touching us and saying “get up and do not be afraid,” we each got to be a little bit more fully human, a little bit more reconciled to God, to the other, and to ourselves.
That is life in the Kingdom of God. That’s life in the Jesus movement, where Jesus has given us the freedom to fail, the freedom to risk for the sake of reconciliation and love. Jesus has given us the freedom to receive his gentle touch and to offer that gentle touch of Jesus to others, saying, “Get up, and do not be afraid.”
Brad Sullivan
6 Epiphany, Year A
February 12, 2017
Emmanuel, Houston
Sirach 15:15-20
Matthew 5:21-37
The Quest
“Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and the Pharisees, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” That’s where we left off last week in Jesus’ sermon in Matthew chapter 5. At a first hearing, it sounds like Jesus is giving a major, “you’ve got to be good enough for God” kind of statement. “You’ve got to be righteous enough in God’s eyes in order to be good enough for God.” That’s certainly where my teenage brain took this passage when I read it back in high school. “Man, I’ve got to be even better that the religious leaders in order to be good enough for God?” Yikes!
Well, I’ve got a few critiques to that particular understanding of Jesus and the Gospel. The first is, let’s face it, if Jesus wants us to be better people than the scribes and the Pharisees, he’s setting the bar kinda low. Just about any time Jesus mentions the scribes and the Pharisees, he’s saying not to be like them, calling them hypocrites. So, not too much of a high standard of perfection there. The second critique of the “You’ve got to be good enough for God” understanding of Jesus’ sermon is this: “You don’t have to be good enough for God.” Striving to be good enough for God, striving to be righteous for one’s own sake is missing the point of Jesus entirely. Jesus is much more concerned with people’s well being than he is with people’s righteousness. That’s the lesson I get from our story in Matthew’s Gospel today, not reward and punishment, but Jesus’ genuine concern and care for the well-being of people.
Several years ago, I was gently pushing our then three year old son, Rhys, on a tire swing in the front yard of our house. We were having a lovely time, and then our neighbor’s granddaughter came over. She was about six, and she asked if she could push Rhys. To be honest, I had some trepidation about the prudence of allowing such a young girl to push my son, but not wanting to be an overly protective helicopter parent, I decided to just let them play. That worked really well for a about 20 seconds, after which time, she spun the tire swing too hard, and Rhys fell off the swing, breaking his collar bone. Way to go, Dad.
Amidst Rhys’ crying and my checking to see if he was as hurt as I feared, the little girl began apologizing profusely, the fear in her voice and face communicating two things: “I’m sad I hurt Rhys,” eclipsed almost totally by “It was an accident; I’m so afraid that I’m in serious trouble.” For my part, I had almost forgotten that our neighbor’s granddaughter was still even there, focused exclusively on Rhys and what appeared even by looking at it to be a broken collar bone. I was certainly not interested at all in my neighbor’s granddaughter being in trouble. I knew it was an accident, and my only concern was for my son’s well being, not the girl’s being in trouble or not. Assuring her that it was ok, I quickly scooped Rhys up and took him to the hospital.
What strikes me about that story is or neighbor’s granddaughter’s concern about being in trouble eclipsing her concern for Rhys’ well-being. Now, to be fair, she was a little kid. Of course that’s how she felt. She didn’t know what else to do or how else to deal with the situation, so no chastisement of her intended in any way.
But, now imagine that the little girl was an adult who had just accidentally hurt someone, and imagine this adult is more concerned with being in trouble or even worse, being righteous in God’s eyes, than this person is concerned with the well-being of the other person. That is the situation I find when we hear Jesus critiquing the religion and way of life of the scribes, Pharisees, and other religious leaders of his day. Be it the parable of the Good Samaritan, where the religious leaders pass by on the other side of the road when they see someone hurt, or be it the actual practices of the religious leaders in which they are shown to take money from poor widows in order to pay a temple tax, or pray about how wonderful they are compared to those around them, we see a group of religious leaders concerned with their own righteousness before God, worrying about being in trouble, while having almost no concern for the well-being of the people around them.
Jesus, in his constant healing of people; in his care for the orphan, the widow, the downtrodden, and the outcast; and in his preaching, including the sermon of his that we hear today, Jesus showed how much he cared for people’s well being, and how interested he wasn’t in people being righteous before God for their own sake. Our being righteous before God, being good enough to please God, Jesus took care of that on the cross. Jesus’ desire for us was then not that we would continue to be worried about being righteous or good enough before God, but rather that we would love God and love people. From a place of fear about our own righteousness before God, Jesus sent us on a quest to love God and love people without fear. That quest of love is what we hear Jesus teaching about in his words that we heard today, a far more complicated, rewarding, and beautiful understanding of life than simple reward and punishment.
In the teaching that we heard today, Jesus was basically going through the 10 Commandments, saying that on the quest of love, a basic rule based keeping of the 10 Commandments is not sufficient. Some probably hear his words and are rather disheartened. “Not only can we not kill people, we’re not even supposed to hate them? No fair, that’s way too hard! Not only can we not cheat on our wives and our husbands, we’re not even supposed to fantasize about it?” From a trying to be good enough standpoint, no we can’t live up to that. We’re not perfect. We’re not going to be. Jesus is teaching that the point of the commandments is not to be perfect, not to be righteous before God for one’s own sake. Rather, the point of the 10 Commandments is to live in such a way that your life is a quest of love, a quest of loving God and loving people without fear.
See, the 10 Commandments are a pretty good start to things, but you can keep all 10 of them and still be a pretty terrible person. Imagine talking to someone who makes sure to keep the Commandments. This person worships God, has no idols, goes to church on Sunday and does no other work, has never committed perjury or lied about someone to get them in trouble; he doesn’t talk back to his parents; and he’s basically content with what he’s got and doesn’t steal from others. He sounds like a pretty good guy. Now let’s say he then starts talking about how righteous he is, and you call him on it because you’ve noticed some rather less than wonderful habits of this person.
“So, I hear you saying how righteous you are, but you’re also kind of a bully. You routinely beat people up when they anger you, and are constantly insulting and verbally abusing others.”
“Well, yeah, that’s true, but hey, at least I haven’t killed anybody!” Check, commandment kept.
“Uh huh. Ok, well how can you be so righteous, considering how terribly you treat your wife?”
“Hey, I don’t have to treat her well, I just have to not commit adultery. I haven’t.” Check, commandment kept.
See, there are all kinds of ways we can be really terrible to each other and still keep the Commandments. Even in following Jesus’ more stringent code, we can find ways to hurt each other. “Ok, Jesus, I got it. No adultery, no ogling other women, and no divorce. Beyond that, I can be as big of a prat to my wife as I want.” Far from giving us a more stringent set of rules for us to follow in order to be righteous before God for our own sake, Jesus is showing us that the whole point of the commandments, is to care about the well being of others as God does.
Now, there’s still this part where Jesus says that if we treat people terribly, we should be thrown into the hell of fire. He’s saying we should be thrown into Gehenna, the burning garbage dump outside of Jerusalem. Have you ever known someone who was such a horrible louse that they seemed like human garbage? That’s what Jesus is talking about. People matter so much to Jesus, and so he taught that if you treat people terribly, you’ve turned yourself into human garbage, good for nothing but the burning garbage dump, metaphorically speaking. Far from actually wanting us to cut off our hands and pluck out our eyes, Jesus is teaching that even small practices of treating others terribly can lead to an entire life of treating others terribly, so stop with the seemingly insignificant practices in which you treat others without love so that you don’t end up living your entire life treating others without love.
Jesus is showing us the heart of God, a heart not interested in keeping rules for one’s own sake, a heart not interested in fear and punishment, but a heart interested in using the rules to show us how better to love people and to care for their well being. Jesus really is far more concerned with people’s well being, fare more concerned with love than he is with people’s self-serving righteousness.
Jesus is inviting us to follow him in a life that is a quest of love, a quest to give and receive love. In this quest, we have our eyes and our hearts open to check in with ourselves and ask, “am I really living as a loving person? Am I full of anger and resentment? Maybe I’m generally ok, but need some help with loving right now. Maybe I should seek that help.” In this quest of love that Jesus has given us, we don’t go it alone. Love cannot be a solitary venture.
We’re on this quest with each other, we have our eyes and our hearts open to the people around us. Are they doing ok? Do they have enough? Do I have enough? Do I have more than I need? Is the path that my life is on serving only myself, or is the path that my life is on also being a light of love for others? Is the path that our lives are on serving as a light of love for others. That is the path of the quest Jesus has set us on, a quest in which we care not about our own righteousness before God for our own sake, a quest not of reward and punishment. Jesus has set us on the quest of genuine concern for the care and well-being of others, the quest in which we love God and love and serve people without fear, the quest of love.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Brad Sullivan 4 Epiphany, Year A January 29, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston 1 Corinthians 1:18-31 Matthew 5:1-12
Smacked Upside the Head by Hope
“I get it, guys. The Gospel sounds foolish, and you feel kinda dumb for proclaiming it, but just go with it. That’s how God works.” That’s basically what Paul is saying in his letter to the Corinthians. He says Jesus seems like foolishness to the nations, although for us, he calls Jesus the wisdom of God. “For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom.” It’s as if Paul is saying, “I get it, guys. The Gospel sounds foolish, and you feel kinda dumb for proclaiming it, but just go with it. That’s how God works.”
Jesus’ words sounding foolish, at least on some level, certainly seems to be happening with the beatitudes, the beginning of his sermon in Matthew 5. Now, I love, this sermon, this list of blessings, this list of people who are blessed. I love that Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” That’s fantastic. There is hope in those words, as if even in our darkest moments, life is still moving towards hope. At the same time, I can see how Jesus’ words sound kinda foolish.
“I am so blessed because I’m really down right now. I feel kind of bereft of spirit, life, energy…I just don’t have anything left right now. I feel so blessed.”
What!? I think his disciples might have been thinking the same thing. “What are you talking about Jesus?”
“I am so blessed because I’m mourning and in deep sorrow over the death of my father. It feels like the world stopped when he died, and everyone else is silly enough to think the world is still going. I feel so blessed.”
“I am so blessed because I don’t really speak up for myself all that forcefully. I don’t really insist on things going my way, and consequently, things often don’t go my way. I feel so blessed.”
“I am so blessed because I’m not really all that righteous. I really want to be, but I’m just not. I keep on messing up, not loving God or others the way that I’d like to. I feel so blessed.”
I’m guessing that kind of threw Jesus’ disciples for a loop. It doesn’t make an overabundance of sense on the first hearing. None of those really falls into the category of things or people that feel particularly blessed. Maybe not necessarily cursed, but blessed? Phrases regarding blessing that sound more familiar to us are, “I am so blessed because of all that God has given me: my talent, my family, my success, my money, my friends, etc. I’m blessed because of my many obvious blessings.” That makes sense. That we get.
Looking again at what Jesus said about blessing, we kinda get some of the last ones. The merciful, who doesn’t like them? They’re merciful. They’re great; of course they’re blessed. The peacemakers? We love the peacemakers. We give them prizes from Sweden. Sometimes we kill them. The peacemakers! They’re great, of course they’re blessed.
The pure in heart? Those who are persecuted for being righteous. Well, of course God’s going to bless those people. They’re his favorites, right?
But what about when they’re not anymore? What if they stop being persecuted, or what if their hearts aren’t quite so pure anymore? Are they still blessed? Do they move to a “blessings pending” category? I think if we were in charge, they probably would.
I think if we were in charge, blessing would be given based on our perception of merit, and those who are considered blessed would be those whom we perceive as obviously blessed with whatever great things.
Fortunately, God doesn’t seem to work that way. Those peacemakers who lose heart, who are so tired of living in a world of conflict, a world that just won’t make peace no matter how hard they try to make peace; those peacemakers who end up losing heart and being totally bereft of spirit, life, energy that they just don’t have anything left, God has already declared them blessed. Not blessings pending or blessings removed. God has declared the poor in spirit to be blessed.
Those who were persecuted for righteousness’ sake so much that they just couldn’t take it anymore, and are no longer the paragons of righteousness that they had been even though they still really want to be righteous, God has already declared them blessed. Not blessings pending or blessings removed. God has declared those who hunger and thirst for righteousness to be blessed.
Blessed are the perfect? No. Blessed are those who never mess up? No. Blessed are those who are God’s favorites, those who do everything right? Jesus didn’t say that. There is no hope in that. If that were the case, if God only declared as blessed those who did everything right, then God would be forever counting our sins against us and holding the carrot of blessing over our heads, smacking us upside the head with it when we mess up. Does that sound anything like the Gospel of Jesus crucified? Do the beatitudes sound anything like the words of someone who is interested in constantly holding our sins and past mistakes against us? No. There is no hope in constantly being condemned for past mistakes. There is no new life, no resurrection. The beatitudes are full of hope.
While our brains tend to get hung up on our own past mistakes and the past mistakes and sins of others, the crazy, awesome, foolishness of the Gospel is that God doesn’t get hung up on our past. God is constantly looking to our future, vastly more concerned with what we can do than what we did do. Such forgiveness, such hope often doesn’t make sense to our brains, and yet, such forgiveness, such hope is what we are so in need of. We long for hope, and sometimes we just can’t see it. That’s why Jesus sometimes takes hope and smacks us upside the head with it so that we can finally see the hope that he sees and has for us.
I’d almost like to rename the beatitudes, “smacked upside the head by hope,” because Jesus offers us hope in something greater than ourselves. Hope that we are part of that something greater. Hope that our lives have meaning, even when we can’t see it. Hope that mourning and sadness are not the end, but part of a journey through darkness and into light.
When my dad died, I was mourning, and I didn’t feel particularly blessed. I was comforted though, comforted by hope through our belief in Jesus, comforted by the church sharing and proclaiming our belief in resurrection, comforted by the love and support family and friends gave. Through all of that, our whole family was tremendously blessed.
During difficult times, feeling very poor in spirit, I have seen blessing, often on the other side of those times, not only for having been carried through those dark times, but also for looking back and realizing the Kingdom of God, the Gospel, Jesus himself never left during those times. We’re still part of the Kingdom of God in and through the darkness.
During Bible study last Sunday, we were in the Derrick Tavern reflecting on Psalm 23. Chris Delange had brought the topic and we talked about the many times and places in our lives which feel like the valley of the shadow of death. Even in the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil for we trust in the shepherd, we trust in Jesus, to lead us from grazing place to grazing place. Sometimes we must be led through the dark valleys, the valleys of the shadow of death, in order to come to the next grazing place. Blessed are we when being led through the valley of the shadow of death, for Jesus is leading us to a green pasture, beside still waters.
The valley of the shadow of death may be those times when we mourn, those times when we are poor in spirit, those times when we feel far from blessed. Even in those times, even in the midst of the valley of the shadow of death, Jesus teaches us that we still have hope, that we are still part of his kingdom, beloved of God simply because we are beloved of God. Jesus’ words of hope may not always make sense to us; they often don’t. Those times are when we especially need his words. When we are in the valley of the shadow of death, we need Jesus’ foolish sounding words to smack us upside the head with hope.
Brad Sullivan 2 Epiphany, Year A January 14, 2017 Emmanuel, Houston John 1:29-42
Fumbling In the Dark
Repentance leads to seeing Jesus. That is what I heard in our Gospel story this morning, as John was declaring Jesus to be the Lamb of God, the one who would take away the sins of the world. John said that he came baptizing so that Jesus would be revealed to Israel. Now John came with a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, and his doing so led to Jesus being revealed as God’s son after he was baptized by John. This baptism of repentance led to a revelation of Jesus, seeing him as more than a carpenter’s son, but as the Son of God who has saved the world from their sins. For us, repentance leads to seeing Jesus as well and being guided by the light of Jesus, without which, without Jesus, we’re fumbling in the dark.
We may not feel like we’re fumbling in the dark. We’re so often guided, after all, our own lights, one of which being the light of some truth that we hold. Guided by our own lamps of truth, it’s little wonder we end up fumbling in the dark, especially considering how vitriolic our lamps of truth have become as of late. We know that we are right, or even if not completely sure of our own correctness, we know with absolute certainty that the other side is wrong. That vitriol, that certainty in our own truth leaves us fumbling in the dark..
Jesus is the light of the world, the light of God, we’re told in the first chapter of John, and we’re told that Jesus came with grace and truth. Jesus came with truth, and we tend to hold onto that truth as best we understand it, especially when we’re fumbling in the dark. Even more than the light of Jesus’ truth, however, we need the light of Jesus’ grace.
Jesus’ grace didn’t demand total understanding of truth from people. Jesus spent time with a lot of people who certainly didn’t seem to have truth wrapped up particularly well. Jesus was called a friend of sinners, and as such he didn’t lambast or lecture them. He had dinner with them. When he saw people fumbling in the dark, he gave them grace and love to be their light along with his truth.
Jesus came with grace to see us as fumbling in the dark as well, doing our best as we walk along the well worn paths of our lives, when we’re often not even guided by light anymore, but simply by repetition, following in the same old paths, the same old ways that we can follow with our eyes closed, ways that don’t lead anywhere good, but ways which we know so well that they just feel right. Jesus came with grace enough to give us light so that when we repent, when we turn from those well worn paths toward a new path, we have light to follow in the way of Jesus.
Back in high school, I believed I was following in the way of Jesus. I’d grown up a Christian my whole life, and I knew nothing but the truth. I knew about the Gospel and about Jesus. He was the truth, and that was that. So, at times back in high school, I ended up following a particular path, a path called: moral superiority and mocking of liberals and various morally unacceptable people in the guise of righteously upholding Jesus and Christian values. It felt like truth. It was really just bullying.
My views on various things changed over the years. Various truths changed, but I still believed in Jesus. In my late teens and early twenties, I began to repent of the ways I had been walking, so certain of my truth that I could denigrate others for not holding the same truth.
Then, in seminary, I found myself agreeing with some of the more liberal views on several issues, especially the hot button issues of the time. I was sickened, however, at how the opposing views, views which I had previously held, were not really welcome on campus. The goal of Virginia Theological Seminary was for all views to be welcome, but in practice, VTS was following the same path I had followed back in high school, though at VTS it was called: intellectual superiority and mocking of conservatives and various morally unacceptable beliefs in the guise of love and respect for all people. It felt like truth to those on that path. It was really just bullying.
Those of us who have been on that path, the path of (assumed) truth without grace, believe our own beliefs to be right and afford little or no grace to those with opposing views. When I have been on that path, I was blinded. I knew where I wanted to go. I knew the end, what was right, where we should all (I assumed) go as a society, but getting there, I was fumbling in the dark.
Repenting of that certainty, that truth without grace, I found myself less certain about where I was going, but more confident in how I was getting there, guided by the light of Jesus.
Over the last week, I realized that I again needed to repent from walking that same, well worn path of self-righteous, supposed truth. My supposed truth without grace was in the belief that the wrong candidate had won the presidential election. I wasn’t really excited about Hilary, but I was so turned off by Trump’s rhetoric and seeming character flaws. I knew I was right and the other side was wrong, until I finally really listened to my cousin, a Trump supporter, and I realized how self-righteous I had been in my belief. Supposed truth without grace and bullying had become my path again, and I was wrong. I needed to repent of that path and let the light of Jesus be revealed to me once again.
My less than stellar views of our president elect didn’t change, but I can hold those views more lightly now. I may very well be wrong. He may be exactly what this country needs. More importantly, having repented of the path of supposed truth without grace, I can follow Jesus again when he says to his disciples, “come and see”, rather than be deaf to his invitation or too caught up in thinking myself right even to care. In my supposed truth without grace, I was blind to Jesus all around me. I was blind to Jesus in people all around me. I was wrong. I needed to repent of that path. I’m guessing I’m the only one.
Here’s what I think now regarding the election, and I offer these thoughts for all of those still struggling with the decisions or the reactions of those on the other side. People made the best choices they could with the information they had and the information which they were able to believe. Folks on both sides of this thing have asked, “how could you possibly have voted for [this candidate], knowing [this terrible thing] about them.” How could you be so stupid or immoral as to vote for whichever candidate? That’s about the sentiment I’ve heard quite often. Now, not wanting the other candidate to win is pretty normal, but good gracious, it seems that an awful lot of people on both sides viewed the other candidate as the latest incarnation of Satan. Some even thought the comparison gave Satan a bad name.
How could either side vote for a candidate who seemed so horribly flawed to the other side? Well, it’s really kind of simple. Our brains will only allow us so much cognitive dissonance before they begin jettisoning some bad information (or assuming it to be false) so that they can handle and align what we do with what we believe.
Adding to differences of policy off, folks were fearfully and (strongly) against Trump because of what he’d said and done/reportedly done. They saw a particular character emerge from the information given, a character which could not be supported. Folks who were against Hillary, saw a similarly deficient character emerge based on what Hillary had said and done/reportedly done, a character which could not be supported.
Both groups did the best they could with the information they had, and many within both groups had to ignore/gloss over, or explain away some of the more troubling aspects of each candidates’ character. Regarding the truth of either candidate and the soundness of a vote for either, we’re all fumbling in the darkness, doing our best with very limited knowledge of truth. We have incomplete truth. We can’t have anything but incomplete truth.
Grace, on the other hand, well that we have in abundance, and grace is something we can give in abundance. Many want us to come together as people, as the body of Christ, and we need to. We need to give each other grace with our competing, incomplete truths, grace enough to say, “I truly believe you were doing the best you could.”
Otherwise both sides of any issue continue to walk on well worn paths that feel like truth, but which are really just bullying. When we’re on those paths, no matter how certain we are, we’re blind, our paths lighted only by the darkness of certainty and truth without grace which end up leaving us fumbling in the darkness of bullying.
Repenting of that path, we can see Jesus again. Turning toward Jesus, with his light to guide us, we don’t always know exactly where we are going, or where we’ll end up, but we do know the way. Jesus is the way. With the grace of Jesus and restored relationships to guide us, we travel together toward an uncertain future, secure not in the destination, secure not in the end, but secure in each other, and secure in the grace of Jesus to guide us.
Brad Sullivan Christmas Eve, Year A December 24, 2016 Emmanuel, Houston Luke 2:1-14(15-20) Becoming Human On A Lark
And that’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown. Every time I hear Luke’s telling of Jesus’ birth, I hear Linus telling the Christmas story to Charlie Brown, letting him know what Christmas is really all about. Christmas is about the joy of God becoming human and how fantastic it is that God thinks highly enough of us, love us enough, that he actually wanted to be one of us. How crazy is that? How great, but is God just totally nuts? Maybe. Now, rumor has it that becoming human: living, dying, being resurrected for our sake, was always part of God’s plan, but what if it started on a lark, kind of just a crazy, whimsical idea? Imagine Jesus, before becoming human, saying to his Father:
Jesus: Dad, you know how much we love those humans?
Father: Yeah, Son. I do.
Jesus: Have you ever thought about how great it would be to actually be one of them?
Father: What do you mean, Son?
Jesus: Well, we love them so much, I’d really like to be one of them, like how people share their lives and experiences with each other, and they draw nearer to each other through sharing their lives together. You know how you’re always wanting humans to draw nearer to you? Well, how much nearer can you get? We become one of them.
Father: (considers for a moment) You know, that’s really not a bad idea. Let’s see what the Spirit says. You’ve been listening, I take it?
Holy Spirit: Of course I have, and I think it’s a lovely idea. Connect with them, show them how much we care. You know, it may even be a chance to redeem them.
Jesus: Hey. Father: Hmm, you know that’s a heck of an idea, something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.
Holy Spirit: I know you have.
Father: They separated themselves from us in the Garden.
Jesus: So we join ourselves back to them by becoming one of them.
Father: Hmm…except there’s still that sin problem.
Holy Spirit: Oh, there you go again.
Father: Well, it’s a big problem.
Holy Spirit: I know it is.
Father: They keep hurting each other, hurting themselves, putting up barriers between each other, barriers between them and us.
Holy Spirit: Uh huh. (kind of patronizing)
Father: We are love. We don’t have any barriers between us. It’s not like we can have Jesus go out there and sin.
Holy Spirit: I know.
Father: (sigh, exasperated) All I ever wanted was for them to love each other like we love our-self, like we love them. It gets very frustrating.
Holy Spirit: Well you know, if he becomes human, Jesus could join with all of their sins in his death.
Jesus: Wait, what?
Father: Oh, now you’re talking. We could somehow pour all of humanity’s sins onto him so even their sins won’t separate them from us.
Jesus: Um…guys, I’m not so sure…
Holy Spirit: It’d have to be a memorable death, too, something gruesome…
Jesus: Ok guys, hold it. I was thinking of something simple, like a little weekend tryst…
Father: Oh, no that wouldn’t do. You’d need to do the whole thing, you know, grow up, be born…
Jesus: Ewe! You’re joking, right? You’ve seen how that whole birth thing happens?
Father: You said you love them.
Jesus: Oye! They are awfully cute. Ok, full deal. When do you think I should be born? The 1970s had really good music, Star Wars…no, late 1940s, early 50s England. I‘ll grow up with David Bowie. It’ll be awesome.
Father: Oh Son, I’ve got just the place.
Ok, so lest I lead us all into heresy forever, I pretty sure that conversation never took place, but I love the idea of God becoming human, of Jesus being born, on a lark, as someone who really loves someone else and simply wants to spend more time with them. That’s what Christmas is all about. God saying to humanity, “I love you, and I’d really like to spend more time with you.” That may seem awfully simple, but I believe nothing in creation has greater healing power than relationship and love.
In Eden, we walked with God, naked and unashamed. There were no barriers to our relationships with God and no barriers to our relationships with one another. Over time then, we kept on and keep on putting up more and more barriers to each other. Initially, we decided that we wanted knowledge: Adam and Even ate from the tree of knowledge. There was much unknown in creation and the fear of the unknown began gnawing at us, eroding our trust in God, until we decided that we desired knowledge more that trust, and the first barrier to relationship was raised.
Then we felt ashamed for what we had done and so we hid, and we covered ourselves with fig leaves, and the next barrier to relationship went up. Then God came and found us and asked what had happened, and we lied, passing the buck onto the serpent, passing the buck onto Eve, rather than fessing up to our fears and our lack of trust, and so another barrier to relationship went up. We went from naked and unashamed to hidden and full of shame, and ever since then, we’ve continued to put up barriers to relationships, as broken people raising defense mechanisms to protect ourselves from harm. The result of course, is that we end up harming our relationships with God and with each other…wars, murders, fights, broken friendships, all because we choose not to trust but seek instead to protect ourselves from harm, when the risk and trust of relationship is really the only thing that can heal us.
So in order to heal us, God gives us the very risk and trust of relationship that we so desperately need. God gives us himself, naked and unashamed, vulnerable as a newborn baby: Jesus, born in Bethlehem to Mary and Joseph, a young couple, faithful and kind. They were not great rulers. They had no great power to offer God any great protection once he became human. God decided to trust us with the vulnerability of his human life, offering us his vulnerable, naked, and unashamed self, trusting in nothing more than the care of two loving and faithful parents.
See, God wants us to love and trust him and so God chose to love and trust us. God also knows that life is hard, and knows we’re not always great at trusting anyone, especially someone who hasn’t walked in our shoes. So, God became human to say, “I love you, and I think you humans are pretty fantastic. So I am going to show up in your life, naked and unashamed, so that you can trust me, and if you will allow it, I will take down all of the barriers that you have put up.”
That’s what Christmas is all about. That’s a pretty serious deal, God healing humanity by becoming one of us. At the same time, I have to think that for the creator of everything to become human, he’s got to be kind of crazy, whimsical, fun too. Imagine God as a toddler walking around in his creation, living amongst his beloved humans, constantly delighted by what’s around him. Imagine 2 year old Jesus running around constantly thinking, “This place is great! Look at that tree; I love that tree. Ooh, a lake! I think I’ll go swimming or maybe walking.”
The very fact of the incarnation, God’s crazy notion to become human and live here with us shows us just how fantastic it is to be living here on this earth and that in God’s eyes, we really are pretty fantastic.
We also need to remember of course, that life is also not always fantastic, that life is sometimes rather terrible, that we are sometimes rather terrible, and on Christmas we celebrate that Jesus came to live that part of our life too. God gets the messy parts of our lives, the times in our lives and world when things are far from fantastic. Jesus claimed even those bad times and those bad parts of our lives as his own when he became human. That’s what Christmas is all about.
The greatest gift God ever gave us was the gift of God’s-self. God gave us the gift of being naked and unashamed with us, loving and trusting us so that we might once again be naked and unashamed with him and with each other. The greatest gift we can give each other, then, is the gift of ourselves, fully living, loving and trusting one another.
Jesus became human so that we could love each other in and through the bad times and the good times, and then see each other and see this world and think, “this is fantastic.” Jesus became human so that we could remove our barriers, trust each other and trust God, and then love fully, love with whimsy, love on a lark. That’s what Christmas is all about. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 3 Advent, Year A December 11, 2016 Emmanuel, Houston James 5:7-10 Matthew 11:2-11
Avoiding Suffering and Death: The Great Lie of Life
We hear in our story from the Gospel according to Matthew today a story about John the Baptist, sitting in prison and wondering if all he had done had been worth it. Was God’s kingdom truly coming? Was salvation actually at hand? Or, had he thrown his life away, been miserable out in the wilderness, eaten locusts for God’s sake (literally for God’s sake), and ended up in prison, soon to be killed, all for a lie, a misguided zealot’s farce? Was Jesus truly the messiah, the anointed one? So he asked, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”
Jesus could never give a simple “yes” or “no”, could he? When John’s disciples asked the very direct question, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another,” Jesus answered, “The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”
I can hear in Jesus’ response, the tacit, “Of course I am, John. Doesn’t that sound like salvation? Doesn’t that sound like the kingdom of God?” But then I can imagine John thinking, “Thanks, Jesus, that sounds great for those people, the lepers, the deaf, the dead, the poor, but I’m sitting here in prison. Have I thrown my life away for nothing or not?”
To that second, unasked question, Jesus preemptively says, “blessed are those who take no offense at me.” “Take no offence at me, John, even though I am not all that you thought I would be. Fear not, even though I have allowed you to be imprisoned. Fear not, even though I have not taken command of Israel and destroyed Rome. Fear not, John, because the Kingdom of God, that political, social, and religious revolution for which you entered the desert, for which you have been imprisoned, that revolution will not come at the point of a sword, nor will the turning of the world upside down come with the violent upheaval of mighty forces and fields drenched in blood.
“The turning of the world upside down, the revolution, the movement for which you have given your life, John, will come with each life which repents of anger, destruction, and isolation, and which turns instead towards love.
“Remember all those people who came to be baptized, John, those who were so thirsty for the waters of repentance, that they entered the Jordan River with you, those muddy waters, filthy, dirty as sin. Those people entered those waters not so that I could take up the sword against the occupying nation of Rome. Those people entered the waters not so that we could shed blood and turn the waters of the Jordan from brown to red.
“Those people entered the waters of the Jordan because they wanted to draw near to God and they didn’t want their past or future sins and wrongdoings to prevent them from drawing near to God ever again. They entered the waters of the Jordan to be free. They wanted to be free from the shackles which the religious elite had placed on them, telling them that they were never good enough to approach God. They wanted to be free from the same old ways of life which they thought would bring healing and wholeness, free the same old ways of life which they thought would soothe the suffering of their souls and fill the void, but which only left more brokenness and the void in their souls even greater. Those people entered the desert with you so that they could wash, be made new, and then leave the desert for the promised land of life in God’s kingdom.
“God’s kingdom is not brought about through the continual shedding of blood, the killing and exclusion of those we believe to be unworthy of God, and the only way I could free you, John, would be to let the bloodletting begin again, so no, John, I am not going to free you. ‘Am I the one who is to come or should you wait for another?’ Here’s what’s happening, John. ‘The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.’ Remember, it was for such as those that you baptized, John. So take no offense at me, for the Kingdom of God is indeed at hand.
“At the same time, yes John, you are going to die in prison. In fact, you’re going to be beheaded at the hands of a faithless, immoral, and impulsive ruler, simply because he was turned on by a young woman’s dancing. The kingdom of God is at hand, and you are going to die senselessly for your efforts in bringing it about.
That’s probably not what John wanted to hear.
For us, 21st century disciples of Jesus, those of us who are a part of the Jesus movement which John helped start almost 2000 years ago, we too get to be a part of the Kingdom of God. We too get to help bring about the Kingdom of God and live into the Kingdom of God, continually turning toward love, continually turning toward Jesus, and offering that love to others, offering Jesus to others…everyone we see, including the poor, the blind, the lame, the marginalized, the overworked, overstressed, those trying like hell to live life the right way, and certain that most of the time they are failing. We get to offer love, grace, forgiveness, mercy. We get to offer Jesus.
At the same time, like John, we will at times still find ourselves in prison, wondering when Jesus is going to come, and the only answer we will receive is, “I’m not coming.” Like everyone in the world, we who are part of the Jesus movement have sicknesses which are not healed, loved ones who die too soon, relationships which are broken. Like everyone else in the world, we suffer from sorrows, addictions, times of being overwhelmed and feeling trapped, times in which we feel imprisoned by life.
Contra some clap-trap out there that various preachers peddle as gospel, believing in Jesus and following in the Jesus movement does not earn us a get out of suffering free card. We all know this. We still struggle with life: bad jobs, no jobs, difficult or failed marriages, disease, sickness, senseless death, dashed hopes. Like with John, this is probably not what we wanted to hear this Sunday, but we’re fooling ourselves if we try to pretend anything else. Like John sitting in prison, following Jesus, giving our lives to his teachings and his service, trusting him and following in his movement…all of that affords us no special protection. We suffer and we die just like everyone else.
The great lie of life, the great lie of medicine, the great lie of wealth, and even the great lie of some modern pseudo-Christianity is that we can avoid suffering and death.
Avoiding suffering and death is not the Gospel. The Gospel is that our suffering and death is not punishment from a capricious, child-like God with a nasty temper and a mean streak a mile long. Suffering and death is simply a part of life, and the Gospel accepts that truth. The Gospel then tells us another truth: we are not alone in suffering. We are with a God who likes humanity so much that, even with our human frailty, he thought it would be a really good idea to become one of us. God loves us so much that he actually wanted to be human. So the Gospel truth is we are not alone even in death, and death does not have the final word. Life continues through suffering. Life continues after death.
Accepting that fact, accepting that we are all dust, and to dust we shall return, we can then let go of the countless ways we try to avoid suffering and death. We can let go of that fruitless struggle and then grasp with both hands the life that truly is life. Letting go of fear, we can truly live and see all of the joy and beauty in this world, even in the midst of suffering and death.
It’s a risky road, the Jesus movement, the revolution for which John prepared the way. Love always is a risk. But, the life of the Jesus movement, the life in which the downtrodden and unacceptable are loved and included, that life is worth the risk. The life of the Jesus movement, the life in which God is with us in our sorrow and death, the life in which we are never alone, and we remain with each other even in our sorrow and death, that life is worth every risk, even the risk of feeling disappointed as we sit in whatever prison we find ourselves hearing Jesus tell us that he isn’t coming this time.
If we’re truly honest with selves, all of life is a risk. Waking up in the morning is a risk. In the Jesus movement, however, we risk with each other. We risk for each other. We risk with God for the sake of all of those who come to the dirty as sin waters of the Jordan seeking freedom, seeking acceptance, seeking Jesus. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 1 Advent, Year A November 27, 2016 Emmanuel, Houston Romans 13:11-14 Matthew 24:36-44
I’ll Take First Watch
“I’ll take first watch.” That is a frequent refrain on the AMC hit TV series, “The Walking Dead”, a show which I have been watching the TV show now for years. For those unfamiliar with The Walking Dead, it is a show about a zombie apocalypse and the struggle for survival of those few humans left who are not the walking dead. Whether the survivors are walking through the wilderness or living in the moderate safety of a walled-in community, there are constant threats from zombies (what they call “walkers”) and even from other humans. So, “I’ll take first watch” is a frequent refrain on the show, a life or death situation.
“I’ll take first watch” was also about the first thing that popped into my head when I read this Sunday’s gospel lesson from Matthew 24, in which Jesus told his disciples to keep awake and be ready. Jesus telling his disciples to stay awake and be ready for the second coming…keeping watch during a zombie apocalypse…they’re pretty close, right?
Jesus had given these calamitous images of what would precede his coming again. There is going to be a lot of darkness in the world before the return of the light. So, in the mean time, keep watch. Keep your lights burning.
The apostle Paul had this to say about keeping our lights burning: You know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us live honorably as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires. (Romans 13:11-14)
Ok, so that actually sounds like a bit of a far cry from taking first watch against the threat of zombie attack. Then again, these ideas of keeping alert, of laying aside the works of darkness and putting on the armor of light kind of fit with the walking dead analogy.
Keep ready, lest you become one of the walking dead. Put on the armor of light, lest you become one who is living, but who has little real life within him, what Paul calls in his first letter to Timothy, “the life that really is life.” (1 Timothy 6:19) Stay alert lest you become one who has lost compassion. One who has lost humility. One who has lost unconditional love. Stay alert lest you become one for whom forgiveness is rarely if ever freely given, but rather is given only as quid pro quo for some form of restitution. Stay alert lets you become the walking dead, one who demonizes the other out of fear. One for whom fear and anger have taken hold so much so, that despair and hatred are a way of life. Stay alert lest you become a lifeless walker, one for whom belittling, beating, or even killing out of fear, or one’s religion, is preferable to taking the risky road of love, the risky road of living in peace. The list of the walking dead goes on and on.
So, “I’ll take first watch” actually fits rather well with our Gospel for today, although taking watch does look decidedly different than arming oneself hand and foot to try to take down a zombie.
For us, taking the watch looks a bit more like the prayer of St. Francis. Rather than simply pray this prayer, I am going to sing it. This is something I do from time to time during sermons. This is a particular arrangement that I wrote combining the Prayer of St. Francis with the Serenity Prayer.
Lord, make us servants of your peace. Where there is hatred may we sow love. Where there is injury, pardon. Where there is discord, union. Where there is doubt, may we sow faith. Where there’s despair, hope. Where there is darkness, may we sow light. Where there is sadness, joy.
Lord, grant us serenity to accept what we can’t change, Courage to change the things we can, Wisdom to know the difference, And make us servants of your peace.
Grant that we may not so much seek To be consoled as to console, To be understood as to understand, To be loved as to love, For it is in giving that we receive, And it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, And it is in dying that we are raised to live. Lord make us servants of your peace.
That’s what taking the watch looks like in Jesus’ kingdom. The prayer of St. Francis is keeping alert in Jesus’ kingdom, putting on the armor of light, as Paul wrote.
Paul, Francis, Jesus are saying that what we do really does matter. For Paul, this may seem a little paradoxical, considering that he and many in the early church believed Jesus was coming back very soon. They were thinking, “Any day now, Jesus is going to come back and redeem the whole world.” Well, with the belief Jesus was coming back very soon to redeem the whole world, why would what anyone did matter? Jesus was right about to fix it, and yet, Paul believed that what they did, the actions they took in their lives, mattered a great deal.
Our actions matter not because our actions are ultimately going to redeem the world. Jesus is going to and has already redeemed the world. Jesus is going to restore all of creation. Some would think then that nothing we do matters. Not so.
Jesus is Lord of all creation, and Jesus is Lord of each of us. He has offered to be Lord of our hearts. Why? Because if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do.
We can’t bring about the ultimate redemption of the world. We can, however, help in the redemption of countless lives in the mean time. We can help in the redemption of countless broken relationships. We can help in the redemption of countless seemingly hopeless situations. We can help in the redemption of the countless poor choices people make and poor paths people take. We can be the light for those in darkness, helping them to see the light of Jesus, and the light of his way.
We get to keep watch, to keep the light shining in the darkness. Like stars shining in the night, the darker the night seems, the more stars you see. As my five year old goddaughter, Avery, said while dancing and singing to herself in her house, “Every single star you see is one good act.” The more we keep watch, the more stars people see, the more we shine in the darkness to guide people to the light of Jesus, to the life that really is life.
So, be a servant of God’s peace. Be a light in the darkness. Take first watch. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 28, Year C November 13, 2016 Emmanuel, Houston Isaiah 65:17-25 Luke 21:5-19
Life After The Apocalypse
Your worst fears are coming true, but fear not. That’s basically part of what Jesus was saying in the discourse to his disciples that we heard today. “Guys, you’re about to be living in Diaspora again. You are about to be scattered among the nations, living in places that don’t really support your faith. The Temple that you love so much…it’s gonna be gone in 40 years, and in about 100 years, Israel is going to be gone too.” Jesus didn’t get that specific with the timeline, but he was telling them about the future destruction of the temple and of the nation of Israel itself.
“Continuing to live out your faith is not going to be easy, guys,” Jesus was saying. “You won’t be able to depend on the beauty or even the existence of the Temple. You will have no state, no Jewish government to allow you to keep in the ways of your faith. Also, y’all who are following in my way, before the total destruction of Israel, you’re even going to be persecuted within Israel. So here then, is how y’all will need to live post apocalypse.”
“Be steadfast in your faith, more than ever. Trust in God and in the ways of his Gospel, because you will have no temple, nor any government to turn to. You will have no great community around you making it easy for you to live out your faith. So be steadfast, live out your faith with intentionality. Live out your faith with each other, and continue to follow in my ways, even when the culture around you says and does otherwise.”
As disciples of Jesus in the 21st century, we find ourselves in a much less dire but similar situation to what Jesus was preparing his disciples for. In America, we’re not exactly persecuted for our faith, but we do live in a culture that often says and does things counter to the Gospel. Truth be told, we often end up taking that culture as our own, and not following in the ways of Jesus ourselves all that well.
Some of Jesus’ teachings are rather difficult and don’t exactly jive with our mainstream culture or even our natural inclinations. “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it,” Jesus said. (Matthew 16:25) ‘You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, (Matthew 5:43-44) ‘You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also;’ (Matthew 5:38-39)
Not easy, right. If someone were to punch me, I would really want to punch them back. Instead, I’m supposed to not lose my temper, not give into my anger and my hurt, and instead take a breath and say, “ok, do you need to hit me again, because if you do, here I am, you can.” I believe that way of Jesus will bring about more peace and love in the world; I think it might actually resolve the situation, but it’s not exactly easy, and it’s not exactly the American way. “Speak softly but carry a big stick” is a far cry from “turn the other cheek.”
As Christians, we are somewhat a people in diaspora. We don’t live in a Christian nation. We don’t live in a Christian theocracy like the first century nation of Israel. We don’t have some overarching governmental authority to help guide us and keep us in our faith. As Wendy Claire Barrie wrote in her book, Faith at Home, the way of Jesus is “counter-cultural, revolutionary, and not quite what mainstream culture would have us believe.” So, she writes about many ways we can live out our faith at home or at any time, when we’re not surrounded and supported by our church buildings, by the sanctuary that our church community makes for us.
Make the dinner table the altar in your house. Prepare your meals and then eat together in such a way that the whole meal is a prayer, in which you share your stories of faith, you share where Jesus has been working in your life. Offer up that meal to God in remembrance of Jesus, like we do here on Sunday morning.
Turn your bedtime into a time of reflection like Jesus took when he went away to a lonely place so often to pray and offer up his life to God, take that time at bedtime to God the day that is past: the good, the bad. “How have I turned away from Jesus? Where have I seen Jesus in my life?” Offer that time of reflection to God as you end your day, and as you rise in the morning, dedicate the day to come to God. Look for all those times and places where you may see him. You will have turned your bedroom into a sanctuary, into a sacred space for God.
Rather than seeking retribution when wronged, seek peace and forgiveness, following after the ways of Jesus.
“Follow my way anywhere and everywhere,” Jesus said. That’s another part of what Jesus was teaching his disciples when he told them that the temple would be torn down. Jesus revealed to his disciples that when the temple was gone, they would need to and also be able to find him and follow in his ways anywhere in the world. That was an apocalypse for them, apocalypse meaning a revealing, a revelation. “God’s not just here in the Temple, or just here in Israel,” Jesus was saying. “God is everywhere and we can live out our faith anywhere.” So too do we get to find God anywhere in the world, anywhere in our lives. That’s life after the apocalypse, life after the revealing. “Your worst fears are coming true,” Jesus was saying, “but fear not, for you can find God anywhere.”
For many folks, people’s worst fears came true when Donald Trump was elected president. To be fair, I think a lot of people’s worst fears came true when Barak Obama was elected president…and before that, and before that. People’s worst fears often come true when we elect a new president (or when darn near anything happens that people don’t like).
In both cases, with both our president-elect and our current president, I think some of people’s fears were probably well-founded. Presidents make bad decisions, we see who is coming, and we expect those bad decisions. I think also that some of those fears are not well founded, but largely emotional reactions that get so worked up that we’re afraid it’s all coming to an end, but I don’t think that particular apocalypse is going to happen because of who’s sitting in office. The real apocalypse for me, the real revelation has been to see how much hope or despair we place in one person.
I’ve seen it written and heard it said many times that “We need to bring God back to our country.” When did he leave? Perhaps we at least thought he left when anyone started thinking that it is up to our president or anyone in our government to allow us to believe in God, follow in the ways of Jesus, or teach us how to follow in the ways of Jesus. I don’t want the government teaching us how to follow in Jesus’ ways. They suck at it. Sorry, but they do.
Whether we’re talking about the president or congress or any government official, whoever it is, is not Jesus. That one person, whoever it is, is not in charge of us following in the ways of Jesus. Regardless of who is president, regardless of if we like that person or not, we are still a people in diaspora. We are still disciples of Jesus living among a nation, within a culture that does not seek first and foremost to follow in Jesus’ way, and it is not up to any president to teach people to follow in Jesus’ way.
It is not up to a president or anyone else to teach our children to follow in Jesus’ way. It is not up to a president or anyone else to show people the light of the Gospel, the love of Jesus, and the peace of his way.
It is rather, up to us, Jesus’ disciples, to show people the light of the Gospel. It is up to us, Jesus’ disciples, to show people the love of Jesus. It is up to us, Jesus’ disciples, to show people to peace of Jesus’ way. It is also up to us to notice all of the times, and places, and ways that we see Jesus in the world.
That is life after the apocalypse. God still the creator, ruler, and redeemer of all creation. God is still anywhere and everywhere in the world, and as disciples of Jesus in this house or in our own houses, or anywhere in the world, we get to see God’s presence and point it out.
Regardless of what anything in the culture or world around us may say, regardless of whether our worst fears have come true or our prayers have been answered, the question we ask ourselves is: “What do we give our hearts to?” That’s what belief really is, not just what we think is true, but what do we live and follow? What do we give our hearts to?
Living in diaspora, it is easy to give our hearts to all kinds of ways that are not the way of Jesus, and we usually do so for really good reasons, like being connected with other people or seeking solace from the storms of life. At the same time, living in Diaspora, we can find Jesus and find people following in his ways in all sorts of places and situations that on the surface don’t seem particularly Jesusy.
Jesus is alive and well in all kinds of ways and places, in our religious culture and even in the culture around us. In giving our hearts to Jesus, we don’t need to rail against and point out all the places, and people, and situations that are “bad and evil” and say, “Jesus isn’t there.” Jesus might argue that point with us. Giving our hearts to Jesus and living in disapora, living in a culture that is not particularly Christian, we get to point out all the ways and places that Jesus is there, all of the ways and places where we see Jesus in the culture and the lives of people all around us. Even in the places where people think, “I shouldn’t tell the priest that I’m going here tonight...it’s Saturday night, I’ll pray on Sunday morning.” No. If you’re somewhere on Saturday night, Jesus is there too, and you get to point it out. You get to notice, and see, and show where all the blessing are in this world. That’s life after the apocalypse.
Wherever we see grace, we see the way of Jesus. Wherever we see forgiveness and love, we see the way of Jesus. Wherever we see people doing their best to make the right choice, we see the way of Jesus. Even living in disapora, even living in times when our worst fears have come true, fear not, Jesus says. Fear not, and give your hearts to me. Do not fight against each other or the culture around you, but follow in my ways, practice your faith even if it is counter-cultural, and then open your eyes to see me everywhere in the world around you. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 26, Year C October 30, 2016 Emmanuel, Houston 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5 Luke 19:1-10
Climbing Trees and the First Winter Breeze
“The Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” Thank God for that! Amen, and Alleluia! I could almost end right there…I won’t, but I almost could. Thank God that the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost. It’s a crazy world, and it is pretty easy to get lost in this world. Zacchaeus, as we heard in our Gospel story today, was one who got lost, lost seeking after riches and security for himself.
As a tax collector, Zacchaeus was a Jewish man who made his living collecting taxes for Rome. He was the ultimate turncoat. Not only did he not hate Rome, he got rich by collecting exorbitant taxes for an occupying nation from his own people and then taking more than necessary to line his own pockets.
He was kinda the scum of the earth, and yet Jesus saw him as lost…lost and wandering in the desert, desperately trying to find his way home, trying to find his way back to God. Zacchaeus was lost, and in his efforts to find his way back, he was doing terrible things. He was defrauding people, stealing, getting rich off others’ misfortune and oppression. For him to do that, however, he had to have been lost already. Maybe he felt helpless and powerless, and he wanted more power. Maybe he was afraid of Rome, afraid for his life and well being, so he joined them to find security. Maybe he just hadn’t been raised all that well and had been a greedy jack-wagon ever since he was a kid. We don’t know, but he was lost in the desert even before he started collecting taxes for Rome.
So, Jesus called Zacchaeus out of a tree and asked to have lunch with him. Imagine being part of the throngs of people wanting to see Jesus, crowding around him, and then seeing him ask to have lunch with this scumbag. I think we’d be pretty upset, just like the crowd was, at the seeming injustice. Zacchaeus should have been scorned by Jesus, or at least given a throughout tongue lashing, and instead, Jesus asked to go be a guest at his house. There’s this part of me that feels like that just doesn’t seem right, but “the Son of Man came to seek out and save the lost.”
That part of me that feels upset about Jesus showing mercy to Zacchaeus is a part of me that is also lost in the desert. What if the crowd had gotten their way, if they had been given free rein to chastise Zacchaeus (and make themselves feel more righteous in the process)? They would have ended up lost in the desert just like Zacchaeus was. No good would have been done. They’d have felt righteous for a time. They’d have been able to get their hate out and feel some temporary power over this man who had power over them. Then, Zacchaeus would have continued doing what he was doing, except he’d have felt even more justified in collecting their taxes. He’d have probably taken even more for himself from those jerks who were mean to him.
Zacchaeus would have stayed in the desert, and the people would have just joined him there, but Jesus came to seek out and to save the lost. Jesus invited Zacchaeus out of the desert and into the promised land. Notice that this story takes place in Jericho.
Anyone remember a place named Jericho? A guy named Joshua fought a famous battle there, and the walls came a tumbling down. So the people of Israel were lost in the desert, waiting to go into the land of promise, and once they got there, the first stop they made was to the huge city of Jericho. They saw the wall of this hugely fortified city, and they knew they were in trouble. They figured, we should just go back to the desert and give up now before we get hurt. Josh talked to God and said, “No, guys. We’re good. We just need to march around the wall a few times and blow some trumpets, and it’ll come down.” So, they did, and crazily enough, it worked. God led the people out of the desert and into the promised land.
I bring this up because in today’s story, Jesus (whose Hebrew name was Joshua) was in Jericho, and Zacchaeus, like Israel, was lost in the desert. Like the people of Israel trying to make their way in the promised land, Zacchaeus was trying to see Jesus, and like the people of Israel, he found himself hindered by a wall. In his case, being a rather short dude, he was hindered from seeing Jesus, hindered from entering the promised land, by a wall of people. So, Zacchaeus climbed a tree.
That was kind of a childlike thing to do, right? Little children climb trees. Adults tend not to quite as much. Jesus said that we need to become like little children to enter the kingdom of heaven. Childlike wonder. Childlike joy in the world. Childlike viewing of creation as beautiful and the world as our playground, alight with wonder, beauty, and joy.
Zacchaeus climbed a tree, like a little child and went from being lost in the desert of greed and security to entering the promised land of Jesus. He met Jesus, and immediately his heart was transformed. He was no longer lost in the desert of greed and security. He was found in the way of Jesus, the way of loving God and loving people.
Way of Jesus hard to see sometimes. It seems crazy that the way of loving God and loving people is hard to see, but we also know that the way of Jesus is at times hard to see. We know Jesus’ way, we get it, and still we find ourselves lost in the desert. We want to find Jesus, and we think we’re almost there, then we find ourselves running into a wall in our faith and in life. We can’t get where we want to go. We want to live with joy. We want our hearts full of hope, full of wonder, full of love. Sometimes, however, we just can’t get there. We’re going through life in the doldrums, not that hopeful, or joyful, or even loving.
Sometimes we look around and we realize we’re lost in the desert, and we know Jesus is near, but we just can’t find him. We’re too busy or too stressed. It feels like there’s a wall in the way to the joy of Jesus that we just can’t get through. We want to be transformed. We want to live in his light and spread his light, and we can’t see over the wall. Maybe then, like Zacchaeus, we just need to climb a tree.
Maybe we need to recapture our childlike joy and wonder in creation, in the presence of God all around us, in the people we see, even in ourselves. We need to become children again. Climb a tree. Open our eyes, ears, heart to see and hear Jesus all around us. Constantly saying, “hey, I came to seek you out. I need you for my kingdom. I want to transform your life, maybe for the first time, maybe all over again. I am seeking you out because you’re lost again, and I want you to be found, to be able to love God and to love people and to experience joy and wonder in creation once again.
This call from Jesus can come from anywhere. Once a year, at least, I get to re-experience the joy and wonder of creation when I hear and feel the first winter breeze of the year. When I was in first grade, walking outside to go to gym class, I heard what sounded to me like a winter breeze. It was not cold outside (I grew up in Houston), but there was a crispness to the sound of the wind blowing through the leaves. I was so excited for the promise of the return of winter, a rest from the 9 month heat and humidity of Houston, and the rest that comes with the season (back then it was Christmas break for us elementary school kids).
Every year since then, I’ve heard the first winter breeze, and without fail, the Spirit of God blowing crisply through the leaves transforms my heart, brings me out of whatever desert I am in, and leaves me with the joy and wonder of a child. Even if for a moment, I am found with Jesus and all the worries of life are gone. I’m back in the promised land of Jesus, and I am free to love God and love people once again.
Any authentic encounter with Jesus sets us free. Jesus set Zacchaeus free from his love of money and fearful need of security so that he could instead love people and use his money as a means toward loving people. Trusting in Jesus sets us free from our fears and anxieties, from whatever desert we find ourselves in.
Sometimes the very craziness in our lives that is keeping us in the desert can also be Jesus inviting us to have lunch. We just need a change of perspective. We just need to become like a child again, and climb a tree, to see Jesus right there already in the midst of our lives calling us out of the desert and into the promised land, calling us to rest in him, to be freed from our fears and anxieties, and to love God and love people with childlike joy and wonder once again. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 24, Year C October 16, 2016 Emmanuel, Houston 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5 Luke 18:1-8
Catastrophizing Our Lives. Trusting In God.
Does anyone else ever find themselves catastrophizing their lives? Imagining the worse scenario happening, maybe even what would you do if? I thought it was pretty uncommon, maybe even that I was the only one who did that, but I find more and more that catastrophizing our lives is actually quite common. We’re afraid of things, and our brains seem to like to try to prepare us for possible tragedy by playing out our fears. It doesn’t actually help, but our brains sometimes just don’t get that. When we’re afraid, we often live into our fears, and we can’t really spread that much love and joy and hope when we’re catastrophizing our lives.
In the midst of our worries and fears, Jesus said, “Do not be afraid.” “Do not worry.” “Do not lose heart.” Jesus repeated these refrains throughout his ministry, which tells us his disciples and all those whom Jesus taught were rather anxious and worried as well. It may be rather gratifying to realize that we are not the only ones who are living in an anxious time. We are not the only ones who worry about the present, the future, heck even the past. Into the darkness of our anxieties and fears, Jesus brings us the light of hope, and as Paul wrote in Romans 5, “hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit…”
At the heart of Jesus’ teaching and the practice of hope, was his teaching and practice of praying always and not losing heart. At the core of Jesus’ teaching is a persistent hope and trust in God, and God’s abiding love for us is at the heart of this hope.
God’s abiding love for us is at the heart of the parable Jesus told about the unjust judge (who didn’t care about God or anyone, we are told) and the widow who kept bothering him. The judge in Jesus’ story didn’t care a hill of beans for this societally unimportant widow. She wasn’t going to help get him re-elected. She couldn’t bribe him, but she was terminally annoying in her persistence. She was like a toddler asking for something. If you ignore them, they just get louder. So with no love in his heart, the judge granted justice to the widow just out of self preservation.
God, on the other hand, deeply loves us, Jesus is reminding us. So fear not, for he will grant justice not out of annoyance, but out of love. Hope in God, even in the dark times, for God is sovereign, good, and the source of all light, love, and grace.
Jesus’ teaching about our hope in God and the need to pray always and not lose heart was a part of a greater discourse in which he had been teaching about the kingdom of God. The Pharisees has been questioning Jesus, seemingly concerned about when the Kingdom of God was coming. My guess is that this was playing into some of those worries and fears and catastrophizing life. There seemed concerned about when God was coming so that folks could clean up their acts just in time. Getting the house cleaned up before the guests arrive…“No, our house always looks this good; what, yours doesn’t?” Don’t worry about when God is coming, Jesus said. Don’t fret about when to clean the house. Don’t fret about not being good enough for God. You’re not good enough for God. That’s the point. God is ok with that. God’s grace is what makes you good enough, not your efforts at cleaning. God’s grace is more than sufficient to clean your house for you once he gets here, if you really need him to. Truth be told, though, God’s already seen the clutter of your house and is really over it. He’s pretty well unimpressed by it. We’re all a mess, and God gets that. His grace is more than sufficient for us.
So, rather than worrying about when God is going to show up, like the bogeyman, Jesus answered the Pharisees, “the Kingdom of God is among you.”
The kingdom of God is among you, so live the kingdom life. Live as my disciples. Live the way, the truth, and the life that I am, Jesus taught. Do not worry. Do not be afraid. Do not let your fears and anxieties rule your life. Pray continually, and do not lose heart. Pray continually for God’s kingdom to be lived out among and within you. Pray continually for God’s kingdom to spread to those around you, in your homes, in your work, in your communities, cities, in the world. Pray continually that God’s Holy Spirit, having been poured into your hearts, will lead you and strengthen you to live out God’s kingdom, to share his love and justice and peace.
You see, contra some modern gospels and preaching, Jesus is not the great self help book in the sky. Jesus teaching to pray continually and not lose heart was for his disciples’ sake, to be sure, but his teaching went beyond helping the disciples just for their own sake. “Pray continually and do not lose heart so that you can life out my kingdom,” Jesus was saying. Pray continually and do not lose heart so that you will not constantly catastrophize your fears and will instead be filled with faith, hope, and love, and spread the joy of faith, hope, and love, to those around you in your words and actions.
Anyone hear of an election coming up pretty soon? Talk about catastrophizing our fears, this election is one in which many are losing heart. There is a huge amount of fear on both sides that the other candidate will win, and many on both sides seem like they can’t imagine anything worse in the world than the other candidate winning. Some people are even becoming afraid of admitting to supporting whatever candidate they support. Some are afraid of losing friends. Some are afraid of being told how stupid they are for possibly being an idiot enough for support the other candidate. Some are actually afraid for their physical well being. It feels like as a nation, we are catastrophizing this election.
As disciples of Jesus, we have a duty during this election, to pray continually and not lose heart, to spread the light of hope, the light of faith and love, into the darkness of all the anxieties and fears over this election. The bottom line is this, in the upcoming election, anywhere from 40-60% of the population is going to be mightily disappointed in the result, regardless of who wins, and regardless of who wins, God is still sovereign. God is not going to abdicate ruling the universe either to Donald or to Hillary.
God is here and with us, and God is for us regardless of who wins. God is here and with us and for us during the trials and misfortunes of life, and God is here and with us and for us during the joys and blessings of life. God is here and with us and for us when we make great decisions and when we make bone-headed decisions. So pray and do not lose heart.
Pray continually, and do not lose heart for all those times when you and everyone around you falls short of God’s kingdom. We always have and we always will continue to fall short of God’s kingdom. We have and we will continue not to love as we have been loved. We have and will continue the let our fears and our anxieties rule our actions. We have and will continue to want to control the actions of others, concentrating on how the speck in their eye is ruining the world, rather than trying to heal the world by removing the log in our own eye.
That’s why God has given us grace. Fear not those who don’t live out God’s kingdom way. Fear not during these anxious times, but rather continue to pray and continue through your prayers to open yourself to God’s Holy Spirit which has been poured into your heart to live out God’s kingdom. Do not be afraid and do not lose heart.
Practice gratitude instead of fear. Rather than catastrophize your fears, remember and give thanks for all that is good in the world. Remember and give thanks for all that is good in your life. Then cast your anxieties where they can be best handled. Cast your anxieties on God, and trust him with the running of the universe, for at the heart of our hope, at the heart of our gratitude, at the heart of Jesus’ teaching and practice of praying always and not losing heart is a persistent trust and hope in God. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 21, Year C September 25, 2016 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX 1 Timothy 6:6-19 Luke 16:19-31
Put Your Trust In God, and Rely Not On Your Stuff.
Have you ever noticed that in some organizations, the folks who have a lot of money are the ones who it seems really matter in that organization, and everybody else isn’t as important. If we look at elections, most of us only get one tiny vote, whereas people or businesses with lots of money get their vote as well as enormous amounts of influence over the candidates and over policy. Money gets people what they want in this world. Influence, power, prestige, security, lots of really nice things.
Wealth is also often seen as an indicator of success and even moral elevation. Those with money worked hard to earn it. They did well. Those without money didn’t work as hard, didn’t earn as much. They aren’t as good people as the ones with lots of money.
Most people don’t really think this way, of course, and yet we hear statements that point to such ideas that equate having a lot of money with success, working hard, and good moral fiber. In reality, success often comes without monetary reward; hard work pays well and also doesn’t pay well, depending on what the work is; and good moral fiber is just as likely or unlikely among the rich as it is among the poor.
In short, while our society values wealth quite a lot, God doesn’t care one whit about it, except in one way. God expects those with wealth to share generously with those who are poor. As Jesus said, “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded.” (Luke 12:48)
That is basically what Jesus had been saying in our readings for the last several weeks, and the Pharisees just weren’t buying it. They mocked Jesus’ teaching about money, possessions and the requirement to care for the poor. “You cannot serve God and money,” Jesus said. Jesus even likened loved of money to idolatry. The Pharisees, who were lovers of money, mocked Jesus’ teachings. So, we heard today Jesus’ continued polemic against the Pharisees and against the idolatry of loving money.
Jesus told the story of the rich man and Lazarus to show exactly what was wrong with the love of money. He gave an extreme example to make his point. Rich man was so rich that he had a huge feast every day, the kind of feast you’d have for special occasions, state dinners, that sort of thing. He ate like that all the time. The poor man, Lazarus, on the other hand was so bad off that he couldn’t even prevent dogs from licking his sores.
Jesus was teaching against lovers of money who don’t obey torah’s commands to give help to the poor, and we see God’s desire for those with money to help those without money in the judgment the two men receive. Rich man is in torment, not for being rich, but for not helping the poor man, Lazarus. Lazarus, on the other hand, is cared for by God in the bosom of Abraham, gathered to his people, loved, and made whole.
Contra those who feel that the poor aren’t worthy of help or that if they were better people and tried harder, they wouldn’t be poor. Jesus taught, “You are commanded to help those in need.” The poor matter greatly to Jesus, just as the rich matter to him.
God’s desire for us is not that we would all be poor or all be rich, nor even that we would all be middle income. God’s desire for us is that we would care for each other as much as he cares for us.
The rich aren’t bad, and the poor aren’t good. Both rich and poor matter to God. At the same time, the rich are commanded by God to share out of their abundance with those who are in need. Paul wrote in his letter to Timothy: As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be haughty, or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but rather on God who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life. (1Timothy 6:17-19)
In other words put your trust in God, share with others, and rely not on your stuff. That’s pretty much what I’ve been preaching for the last three weeks, mainly because that’s pretty much what Jesus has been saying in our Gospel readings for the last three weeks. Put your trust in God, share with others, and rely not on your stuff.
That sounds good as short quips go. I can see those words on a poster with Mother Teresa giving soup to an orphan, or those words on a bumper sticker. Folks would say, “Yeah, that’s right trust in the Lord, thank you Jesus.”
The challenge would then be, what in the world people who are inspired by those words would do to live them out. Quips and posters are great as capitalism goes, but the Gospel of Jesus is a way, not a slogan, and Jesus’ way is meant to be lived day in and day out.
How do I put my trust in God and not in my stuff, and how do I know when I’m putting my trust too much in my stuff and not enough in God? How much do I share, and how much do I keep? We tend to like to quantify things, and wonder, “how much is enough?” There’s no number I can give. We could say 10%. Give away 10% of what you have each year, 10% of your income, and also give up some of your possessions to help those without. That’s a good biblical number.
Without quantifying it, though, think of it like this. Give as much as you need to maintain your humanity. People who don’t care about the plight of the poor or people who care and do nothing lose their humanity. Look at the rich man in Jesus’ story.
Even when he was dead and tormented in flames, he was still depending on his status, still thinking he was more important than Lazarus because he had been rich. He wanted to command Lazarus to do his bidding. This man had lost so much of his humanity, that he didn’t even see Lazarus as a human; rather as a thing to do his bidding. Notice that in losing his humanity, the rich man had also lost his name. He was just “rich man.” The poor man, Lazarus, had a name. Lazarus was a human being. Rich Man, who loved money more than people, had lost his name; he had lost his humanity. He’d traded his identity for “Rich Man.”
As the story was told, he wasn’t unaware of Lazarus’ plight. He even knew Lazarus’ name. He simply didn’t care about helping Lazarus. Rich Man was feasting every day, meaning he was having a full banquet-like meal every day. He knew there was this broken down, likely crippled man named Lazarus who was starving near his home, and he did nothing but keep eating. He did not obey the command of the Law of Moses to help this poor man, Lazarus. He therefore lost his humanity, lost his identity, and lost his connection with God and others.
So what do we give, how much, and how often to avoid losing our humanity? Well, rather than an amount and a self-serving goal to avoid punishment, we’re called as disciples of Jesus to let the same mind be in us that was in him. I don’t think Jesus was worried about his reward or punishment. Jesus loved God and people, and then he lived naturally out of that love. We’re called to share Jesus’ love of God and people and to live our lives out of that love. We’re called not to value wealth, but to see it as useful for serving one another in God’s Kingdom. We’re called to share in the Jesus movement. We’re called to share out of whatever abundance we have out of love, not fear. We’re called live out our common humanity to its fullest. We’re called to follow Jesus in his way and to put our trust not in wealth, but to put our trust in Jesus, in his way, his truth, his life, and his grace. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 20, Year C September 18, 2016 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 16:1-13
Scorsese Is Directing? I’m Ok With That. Jesus? Not So Much.
At first glance, in our Gospel story today, it seems as though Jesus is telling us we should be dishonest, and we’re pretty much confused through his entire parable. By the end, the wraps things up pretty clearly, saying, “You cannot serve God and wealth.” Ok, we pretty much get that. We may not like it, but, we get it.
In the middle, though, the master of the house praises a dishonest manager for being dishonest? Does that make any sense to us? I think it really kinda does.
Years ago, I saw a reality show called, “Big brother.” It was the typical thing, a last man standing contest where people voted each other off the show, and they all lived in a house together. They formed alliances and tried being friends and living together, and they really wanted to be friends with each other, until the times came when they ultimately all had to stab each other in the back so they could win. All except this one guy, the guy who won. He never actually tried to be anyone’s friend. He’d agree to an alliance and then he’d break it. He’d manipulate people and act like their friend and then vote them off the show. There was no one whom he hadn’t made angry during the show. When it finally came down to two people, there was the guy who won, and this other young woman, who had been pretty nice throughout the show. They were making their pleas to everyone who’d been kicked off, saying basically, “Vote for me to win.”
The young woman, who lost, was apologetic that the others had been kicked off and said she really did like them…she was so nice. The guy who won? He said that the whole time, his objective was to win, so of course he lied, manipulated, and made and broken alliances. Everyone else there was a danger to him, and he wanted to win, not make friends with people he’d never see again. They all realized he was the only one who was truly honest with them throughout the entire process. He was shrewd in his dealings with them, and they all voted for him to win.
The master in the story that Jesus told kinda felt like the audience and the other members of that show. “You’ve actually done kinda well here,” he’d say to his manager. “You’ve swindled me a bit, but you actually managed something, and quite well. You’re actually pretty good at this if there’s a gun to your head. I just might keep you on.”
We totally get rooting for this guy in the show who was shrewd in his dealings, and we totally get rooting for the dishonest manager being shrewd in his dealings. If his life were a movie with the right script and a good director, we’d all be rooting for the dishonest manager by the end of the movie.
We’re somehow just not so comfortable hearing Jesus tell the story. Scorsese writing and directing the movie, “OK.” Jesus writing and directing it, “Ahh, I feel weird.”
Here’s the thing. The context is that Jesus was being shrewd in eating with sinners and tax collectors. He didn’t threaten them, and he didn’t shun them, and he didn’t assume they didn’t have enough money to be worth his time. He ate with them and loved them into repentance.
Also, it started with genuine love. They weren’t his projects; they were people whom he loved.
The manager in the story Jesus told didn’t care one whit about the people, and yet he still figured out how to do well by them and create some decent community of the Kingdom of God. He’d be relying on their generosity just as they were grateful for his. It was quid pro quo, to be sure, but he was going to be getting to know the people in any case. Kingdom of God kind of living was going to happen. Out of purely selfish desires, he got some kingdom living done. The people of this age, Jesus said, are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.
For the children of light, those disciples of Jesus who believe in his Kingdom way and the light that he is, if only they were as shrewd to care for those around them, Jesus was saying. Remember, this is a polemic against the Pharisees and the Scribes who didn’t like that Jesus ate with sinners. “There is grace,” the Pharisees and the Scribes would say, “but only if you follow the religious rules and clean up your act before approaching God, and pay for the temple.” Jesus said, “There is grace. Here, have some. Have forgiveness, have dignity, have humanity and love. Now let’s work on repentance so you can then also share grace, forgiveness, dignity, humanity, and love with others who need it.”
Jesus gave away grace rather than charge for it. Jesus forgave sins when they hadn’t been paid for yet. Jesus broke the rules of grace, at least the rules which the scribes and the Pharisees thought grace should have. The Pharisees seemed to love their religion, the symbols and rituals of their religion. They honored those symbols and rituals because those symbols and rituals were instruments of grace. Unfortunately, they turned the symbols and rituals into idols by honoring the symbols and rituals rather than honoring God, God’s Kingdom, and God’s grace, which is what those symbols and rituals were meant to help them live out.
The dishonest manager broke the rules of money in order to bring about the best possible outcome for the most people. In the same way, Jesus broke his religion’s rules of God’s grace in order to bring about the most good and the most grace for the most people so that they could live out God’s kingdom.
“You cannot serve God and money,” Jesus said. You cannot serve God and your rules about grace. You cannot serve God and hold onto grace as if it is your personal possession to give out to those whom you deem worthy. Life in the Jesus movement gives grace extravagantly.
Life in the Jesus movement also gives money and possessions extravagantly. Jesus was also talking about money. He was talking about how people lived their lives and how they used what they had.
The rules of our possessions says, “keep them, they are yours.” The rules of our money say, “You earned it, it’s yours.” Quid Pro Quo. This for that. Give only for what you are going to get in return. Also, be afraid about tomorrow. Save up and store up as much as you can, because tomorrow you just might be relying on your possessions to live.
Jesus’ kingdom breaks the rules of money and the rules of possessions. The rules of money in Jesus’ kingdom say, “it’s not yours, it’s God’s. Use it for the benefit of others, for the benefit of God’s kingdom. Use it for the benefit of those who are in need, not those whom you deem worthy.” The rules of possessions in Jesus’ kingdom say, “Do not rely on your wealth and possessions to take care of you during hard times. Rely on the people whom you have cared for and loved during their hard times to care for and love you during your hard times.
Business leaders and politicians get quid pro quo. I’ll do you a favor, you do me a favor. The children of this age are shrewd in their dealings with each other. Would that the children of light were just as shrewd, caring for and relying on one another so that when the tables are reversed, people will be able to depend on the kindness of people to whom kindness has been shown. Security found in people using their stuff for others, rather than security found in stuff while ignoring others.
Give of your money and possessions extravagantly. Give grace extravagantly. As Presiding Bishop Michael Curry said, “That is life in the Jesus movement.” A way of love that seeks the good and the well-being of the other before the self’s own unenlightened interest. A way of love that is not self-centered, but other-directed. A way of love grounded in compassion and goodness and justice and forgiveness. It is that way of love that is the way of Jesus. And that way of love that can set us all free. Someone once said, “When you look at Jesus, you see one who is loving, one who is liberating, and one who is life-giving.” And that is what the way of Jesus is about. And that is the Movement of Jesus. A community of people committed to living the way of Jesus, loving, liberating, and life-giving, and committed to going into the world to help this world become one that is loving, liberating, and life-giving.
Break the rules and be dishonest in how you give so that you can bring about the most grace, and the most well-being for the most people. Rather than be protectors of God’s grace, hoarders of God’s possessions, like the Pharisees and the Scribes, we are the people of Jesus who extravagantly give God’s grace and share our possessions with those who are in need both. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 19, Year C September 11, 2016 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 15:1-10
Bullying, Terrorism, & 9/11: The Way of Self-Righteousness Is the Way of Death
Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” and people saw life and truth in him, and people flocked to him, following him and following in his way. Jesus’ way of life was a way of love, and forgiveness, and reconciliation, a way in which he did not shun or exclude those who were considered to be sinners. Rather, he welcomed them and ate dinner with them, and this did not sit well with the religious leaders of the time, the Pharisees and the Scribes. They complained about Jesus, “He eats with sinners!” They complained about Jesus, safe in their own self-righteousness, keeping the sinners at a distance, keeping them shunned, keeping them away, so that the Pharisees and the Scribes could be righteous in their own eyes.
The way of Jesus is life.
The way of self-righteousness is the way of death.
We suffered horrific example of the way of self righteousness 15 years ago today on September 11, 2001. Men who wanted all non-Muslims to be killed, ended over 3000 lives on that day. They wanted not only all non-Muslims killed, they wanted all people who didn’t practice their particular brand of Islam killed. Their way was the way of self-righteousness, believing themselves to be righteous in God’s eyes and believing all others to be unrighteous and therefore deserving of being shunned, excluded, and even killed. We saw in them that the way of self righteousness is the way of death.
In contrast to that, I got to spend the weekend on a youth retreat at Camp Allen called Happening. It has been a wonderful weekend with youth and adults from around the diocese renewing their faith and commitment to Jesus and to following in his way.
At the same time, I heard stories of youth being bullied, youth who had been excluded by other Christians for not being “Christian” enough or for not being the right type of Christian. I heard stories from an adult who works with youth in crisis, and she told about youth who had been bullied, some because they are gay. They were usually bullied by other Christians who told them they couldn’t be friends with them anymore because they were gay, and so they were bulled and excluded, some even bullied and excluded to the point of suicide.
Those who did the bullying were following the path of self-righteousness, the path of death, and those who did the bullying were terrorists every bit as much as those on 9/11. They used words as their weapons rather than planes, but self-righteousness and contempt for those whom they saw as unrighteous was still what drove them. They killed every bit as surely as the terrorists did, they just used their victims’ own hands to do so.
The way of self-righteousness is the way of death.
We also have to realize that I’m talking about youth, teenagers and some pre-teenagers who were trying to do the right thing. Some were just being mean, but many were trying to follow Jesus. They were bullying and excluding to try to push the other into repentance, to try to push them to be righteous, but that was not the way of Jesus. Jesus didn’t bully and exclude. He welcomed sinners and ate with them.
The only people Jesus seemed not to love being around were the self-righteous: those who would bully and exclude, and if you go far enough down that path, even kill the unrighteous. While the terrorist and the bully, some were even well meaning, trying to do the right thing, the way of self-righteousness is the way of death.
It is deadly and sinful, and if we’re honest, the way of self-righteousness is also a part of all of us. There are times when I’ve felt pretty self-righteous and had to be called down. I assume there have been times when all of us have felt fairly self-righteous. Self-righteousness is a sin which we all share every now and then. So it’s fortunate that Jesus welcomes sinners and eats with them.
As we look at those and think about those whom I heard about this weekend who did the bullying, I need to remember to look at them through the eyes of compassion, not the self-righteous eyes of judgment. Judging their acts as harmful. Judging them as sinners whom Jesus would welcome and eat with, because that is the way of Jesus, the way of life. The way of love. The way of reconciliation, forgiveness, and redemption. Even those who have bullied others to the point of death, even those who commit atrocities and acts of terrorism because of their self-righteousness: when they realize they have been following not the way of life but the way of death, they turn from that way, and they find Jesus welcoming them, inviting them to share a meal with him, because the way of Jesus is the way of life. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 18, Year C September 4, 2016 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Philemon 1-21 Luke 14:25-33
Let Go of Everything We’re Afraid to Lose
Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, are two of the most polarizing figures in American politics right now, understatement of the year. They’re probably two of the most polarizing people in recent memory. Folks are even stopping being friends with other people (at least on Facebook) because of whom they support. There’s nothing new about people not being overly comfortable talking about politics, but not even being able to say who you support for fear of total ridicule and scorn seems kinda new to me. Whether it is because of who our candidates are or a sign of the times, these two political candidates have ended up being extremely divisive and polarizing figures.
Now, it would be an overstatement to say that if you support one of the candidates, you have to hate members of your family who support the other one…an overstatement for most people. Some probably feel that way, but my point is, that’s what Jesus said about himself. You cannot be my disciple unless you hate members of your family. I don’t know that he meant that once you decide to be his disciple, you have to start hating people. I think it was more that once you become his disciple, your family might hate or reject you, and you’ve got to be willing to accept that, or on the other hand, if your family isn’t living as his disciple, you still need to, even if that causes friction. In short, Jesus was a polarizing figure far beyond Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton.
If we are to take Jesus seriously today, we find that is still just as polarizing. Not because he said outlandish, hurtful things, not because he was untrustworthy. Jesus was and is polarizing because he spoke hard truths; looked deeply into the heart of things; and lived an intentional, well thought out, and loving life. Jesus lived a life in which he loved people more than things, in a world in which many people value their things at the expense of treating other people well. Anyone who does not give up their possessions cannot be my disciple, Jesus said.
That’s not exactly incendiary rhetoric, unless you valued your money, your excess money, more than you valued people in need. His teachings were incendiary if you let your love of your religion trump love of God and people. His teachings were incendiary if you noticed the flaws and misdeeds of others while ignoring your own.
Jesus was pretty darn uncompromising in his general stance that we don’t get to do what we want to do when what we want is going to hurt someone else.
“You want a divorce, Pharisee? Sorry, dude, but that would leave your wife destitute. Yeah, I get that her pot roast is usually dry and that she isn’t as hot as your remember from 15 years ago. You need to grow up and honor the marriage vows you made.” Folks didn’t like hearing that.
“Yes, vineyard owner, I get that not everyone worked the same amount today, but they still need enough to live on. Pay them all a full day’s wage, even those who only worked for a few hours.” Folks didn’t like hearing that.
“Very impressive and expensive stuff you’ve got here. You’ve got way more than you need, though. You know, there’s a lot of people in this town who don’t have enough. You could sell some of your possessions and ensure that some folks in your city have a roof over their heads or the tools they need to start earning a living at a trade. You want to keep all your stuff instead? Then you really can’t be my disciple.” Folks didn’t like hearing that.
“But I don’t want to forgive these people,” some would say. “They really hurt me.” “Well then,” Jesus said, “you can’t be my disciple.,” Folks didn’t like hearing that.
Imagine what parents might have said to their children who had begun following Jesus. “If you start forgiving people like that, son, folks are going to walk all over you your whole life. You need to man up, be strong, and stop being such a pansy.” Another father might have said, “Don’t even think about giving away your possessions. I worked hard for this family, and now you want to just give away your stuff? That’s a betrayal of all my years of work. I didn’t work for some strangers I don’t even know. I worked for you, so don’t you dare destroy that with this crazy Jesus.”
Or another, “Well, if that’s how you want to run your business, like a charity, good luck, but your workers are going to walk all over you. Pay ‘em a full day’s wage for a few hours work. You’ll be sunk and then you can work for me. Moron.”
Folks either really loved what Jesus taught, or they really, really hated what Jesus taught. There wasn’t a whole lot of in between. So, Jesus told folks that they needed to consider the cost of being his disciple before deciding to follow him. “Your family and friends may turn away from you. You’ll need to give up a lot of what you have so that we can live this life together and so that those who don’t have enough will have enough. There will be burdens, hard to bear, and you’ll need to take those too.
As sales pitches go, that’s a little unorthodox, and yet for many people, it worked. Folks saw in Jesus something greater than their stuff. Folks saw in Jesus something greater than their pride. Folks saw in Jesus something worth the cost that he warmed them they would pay.
Yeah, Lord, our stuff is pretty cool, but I do think I like people better. I get that some will see forgiveness as weakness, but I see it as the strength of letting go of my hurt and offering grace. I get that in an economy of exchange, people should get nothing more than they worked for, but I like the economy of your kingdom better, where we choose to be generous so that those who can’t work enough still have enough to live on.
While some were scandalized by those teachings, others saw something beautiful in his teachings. Even more, people saw in Jesus forgiveness and grace, love and kindness, and a way of life that didn’t care about self righteousness but cared about righteousness for the sake of others. In Jesus, people seek to be righteous not so that they will be good enough for God. In Jesus, God makes us good enough through his grace, through his forgiveness and love. In Jesus then, people seek to be righteous for the sake of others. I will do right so that I don’t harm others, so that I do good for others.
That also was scandalous to many. “This Jesus is claiming God’s grace and forgiveness, but only the priests can declare God’s forgiveness as the people offer sacrifices to God,” said the religious leaders. Jesus spoke for God because Jesus was God. Jesus declared God’s forgiveness not because some religious task had been completed, but because he could see in people’s hearts regret for what they had done and a desire for a new start, a chance to lead a new life, and so Jesus granted people that new life, granting them God’s forgiveness and grace and freeing them from the bonds of fear and shame that had kept them dwelling in their tortured past.
Jesus offered people a new life of freedom and grace. Jesus declared as beautiful those whom society had cast aside. Jesus even said to invite such people into your homes. Have dinner with the poor, the outcast. Get to know as brother, sister, friend, those whom society would write off. Then you might actually have a reason to give up your possessions to share with those who are now your brothers, sisters, and friends.
Folks don’t want to sell their possessions and give away their money away simply entrusting someone else to spend it. Folks often don’t trust that some other person is going to spend their money better than they would. Sharing with the outcast of society who have now become our brothers, sisters, and friends, however, now that’s a different story. That’s the church truly living as the church. That’s following what Jesus taught. That’s a new life, freed from love of possessions, freed from fear and pride. The life of Jesus’ disciples is a life of freedom and grace.
What if things go wrong as we start to share? What if we end up feeling duped or used? What if our new brother, sister, or friend ends up betraying us in some way? Well, then it’s time for forgiveness and grace. Even as we may or may not say, “no more,” to that person we still show that person love, forgiveness, and grace, perhaps even a second chance when they’ve shown true repentance and regret.
Following Jesus isn’t playing it safe. We’re going to be used, mistreated, ridiculed, sometimes even by members of our own family. Jesus said we would. Jesus said we would be bearing a cross, an implement of torture and death, not playing it safe. Playing it safe means putting our trust in our stuff, even trusting in people and our religion as possessions, things to keep us safe. Following Jesus, choosing not to play it safe, we need to let go of everything we’re afraid to lose. Then we can put our trust in him, in his grace and love, in his mercy and forgiveness. Following Jesus, then, we receive a new life, a life no longer bound by fear and shame. Following Jesus, we receive a new life of freedom and grace. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 17, Year C August 28, 2016 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 14:1, 7-14
It’s Dinner, Not a Marriage Proposal
At the very heart of the Gospel, we have God loving humans as his beloved children. With all of the beauty and grace with which we were made, with our remarkable capacity for love and empathy, with our creativity and astonishing drive to invent, to imagine, to overcome obstacles, and with our courage to band together in the face of hardships, God loves us, and his love for us is at the very heart of the Gospel.
God loves us for who we are, and with the list of human attributes I just gave, we can see why. We are creative, loving, generous. We band together to support each other. We weep when others weep; we rejoice when others rejoice.
We are also terribly flawed. We can be mean spirited, cruel. We commit horrible atrocities and acts of violence, hatred, degradation. We fight, argue, see the worst in others, refuse to offer or receive forgiveness, and can be generally, rather grumpy. We do all of these things and more, and still God loves us. While the terrible things we do break God’s heart, and while there is judgment given by God for how we treat each other, God also understands that we only break each other out of our own brokenness. God sees us as lost when we harm each other and believing Jesus’ words on the cross, God forgives us, for we do not know what we are doing.
God loves us not in spite of the bad things we do, but completely irrespective of the bad things we do, and God is constantly teaching us and showing us how not to do such harmful things to each other. Knowing that if we were going to truly be able to love each other as God loves us, we would need to become God, and also knowing that just isn’t possible, God decided to flip that around and become human instead. God joined himself to us so that we might be joined to him, and in that joining together of humanity with God, God has redeemed all of the harmful things we do so that in the resurrection, in the restoration of all creation, all of the harm we do will be seen forever as the good we always intended.
God looks at us and sees the beauty. He sees the bad too, but he has redeemed that. God sees the beauty in us. As holy and exalted as God is, God sees the beauty in us, lowly humans.
I think that is why Jesus instructed the Pharisee, his dinner host, to invite the poor, lame, and blind to his feasts, rather than his friends and those who are well off. Jesus said, “But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous." There’s something more than a quid pro quo going on here. I don’t believe Jesus is instructing people to invite poor and crippled people into their homes so that they’ll receive a nice fat celestial retirement fund in the sky after this life is over. While Jesus definitely taught about reward and punishment for our actions, I don’t believe he was teaching those who were well off how to be even more well off in the next life. “You that are ahead in this world, here’s how to become even more ahead later on.” I don’t think that was his message.
His message was to get us to view each other as God views us. Like the prosperity gospel of today, there were beliefs by some in Jesus’ day that those who were not well off, those whom tragedy had stuck, were afflicted because God was angry at them, didn’t like them, or they weren’t good enough people to have earned God’s favor. Jesus was never much of a fan of the prosperity gospel or any such belief that we have to earn God’s favor or that the lowly are only lowly because God is angry with them.
Jesus hung out with everybody, the poor and the well off. He said to his disciples “Blessed are you who are poor,” Jesus said, “for yours is the kingdom of heaven.” Blessed are you, he said. He was speaking not about the poor, but to the poor. Jesus declared blessed those whom many in society assumed were cursed. Jesus declared as deeply flawed our systems of ascribing blessings and curses. Jesus declared as deeply flawed our systems of ascribing righteousness and sinfulness. Jesus sees our hearts and knows how much we want to be righteous, how much we want to be loved by others and loved by God, and Jesus sees how much we struggle for that. Jesus even sees that we often end up putting others down in order to raise ourselves up.
Jesus’ desire for us is to see ourselves and each other as he sees us. Jesus’ instruction to the Pharisee to invite the poor, lame, and blind into his home is not an instruction to do more righteous, charitable deeds in order to earn a greater salvation. Jesus instruction to the Pharisee to invite the poor, lame, and blind into his home is to let the Pharisee know that he doesn’t have to surround himself with supposedly righteous people in order to be righteous himself or in order to be seen as righteous by others.
Accept that your righteousness comes from God’s love of you. Then invite into your home those whom you assume are unrighteous, and learn to see them as God sees them, as his beloved children. Such an invitation is not an act of charity. Such an invitation is an act of accepting God’s acceptance, of seeing the beauty of people as God sees the beauty of people. Such an invitation is an acceptance of the lowliness, the poverty, disability, and blindness within each of us, and learning to accept God’s love of us not only as we want to be, but also just as we are.
Jesus instruction to the Pharisee was all of this teaching, and it was also an actual instruction actually to invite the poor, lame, and blind into his home. As James tells us, faith without works is dead. A great idea springs up from a teaching of Jesus, but if there is no action to follow it up, the great idea dies on the vine.
Invite the poor, the blind, and the lame into your home. That’s a bit of a challenge, I would think. What do we do, walk around outside for a time, find someone who we assume is homeless or living in poverty and say, “You’re poor, aren’t you? I need to you to come to my home for dinner because Jesus told me to have dinner with a poor person.” I don’t think that’s really going to work. The challenge is to look beyond poverty or disability, to look beyond social status, to see beautiful human beings, and invite them to dinner.
Inviting total strangers into our homes for dinner still might be a bridge to far, and possibly weird, so invite folks here. Invite folks to share the meal we share every Sunday. Further, a lot of folks aren’t total strangers, they are folks we know from church or work, or other social circles. Invite them to dinner. Invite not only your good friends, but invite also those whom you don’t know as well. Even that might seem a little scary. What exactly are we committing to here? Well, I remember some advice Dad gave me back when I was starting to date. I was afraid to ask a girl out, partly afraid she’d say “no”, and partly afraid, just wondering what am I getting into, what am I doing? Dad said, “Brad, you’re just asking her to go out with you for an evening, it’s not a marriage proposal. Get to know her more; see if you like being around each other.”
Get to know other people, Jesus was teaching. Get to know different people. That’s what we get to do at our Bible study in the parish hall on Friday mornings during breakfast. All kinds of folks come to eat breakfast here on Friday. Some are well off. Some don’t have much. Some are homeless. Sharing breakfast together, we get to see the beauty of each other as God sees the beauty of us. That’s life in God’s kingdom. That’s life in the Jesus movement. It’s not as though by inviting new and different people into our church and into our homes, people would become our projects. The purpose is not to help or fix anybody, and it’s not a marriage proposal. The purpose of the invitation is to learn to love people more fully, and in so doing, to be able to accept God’s love of us and of others more fully. Following Jesus’ teaching, living out the Jesus movement, we find ourselves changed. We find less fear, more love, greater connection. Living out the Jesus movement, we find that humans are beautiful. Flawed, sure, as well as beautiful and beloved. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 16, Year C August 18, 2016 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Jeremiah 1:4-10 Luke 13:10-17
God Interrupts Us With Moments of Grace
Last Sunday, we heard about Jesus saying that he came to bring division, and today, we heard about that division actually happening. Jesus was teaching in a Synagogue, and then he stopped teaching to heal a woman who came to hear him. We’re told she had been stooped over for 18 years, so it was known that this woman was almost crippled, and then with a word and a touch, Jesus turns chiropractor and heals her body so she can stand up straight and walk and move well. We hear the leader of the Synagogue then, basically telling this woman she was wrong for coming to the Synagogue and making sure no one else makes such a mistake. Rather than berate Jesus for healing her, the leader says to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day.” Hey guys, don’t mess up like she did. Come back on Sunday or Monday if you need to be healed, not Saturday.
It seems awful, horrible of him to say that. Of course she should be able to come to Synagogue, and of course if Jesus is there when she is there, he should be allowed to heal her. He technically “worked” on the sabbath, but so what, it’s the power of God bringing healing to the world. That’s what we think when we hear this story, but what if it were to happen here?
Imagine one of our parishioners reading one of the lessons Sunday morning, and then deciding he is going to heal someone within the parish. He stops reading mid-lesson, and walks out into the congregation. He turns to one of our beloved brothers or sisters who isn’t physically able, who can’t walk well, who is stooped over, and he says to them, “In the name of Jesus, be healed,” and he touches them, and suddenly they have strength in their arms and legs. They can stand up straight and walk and move like they haven’t been able to for 30 years.
What do we do at that point? “Ok, everyone, let’s sit back down for the second lesson.” Nope, that doesn’t quite work. There would be a myriad of reactions from all of us. Some would be praising God. Some would be afraid. Some would be asking to be healed too. Some probably would be wondering, “How much longer is this going to take? Can we get on with communion?” “My favorite hymn was next, come on, let’s sing.”
What does the preacher do at that point? What do I say to follow up that? Are we going to stop having services here on Sunday because folks from all over are going to start coming here for healing? I can see the synagogue leader saying, “Don’t come here for healing on the sabbath.” Can you do that healing thing in the parish hall next time, maybe in between services? Hopefully we’d just allow ourselves to be there in the presence of God made manifest in the healing, but I can see where the leader reacted badly, not quite knowing what in the world to do at that point. I can see where the people would have been divided over their reactions to Jesus, some praising God, some afraid, some wanting to follow him, some wishing he’d not interrupt their comfortable service of teaching and worship ever again.
God interrupts us. People interrupt us. How do we respond when we are interrupted from our comfortable worship and walk with God? I’m trying to pray here, how dare you interrupt me with you problems. We’re trying to pray here, how dare you let your children make noise. I love worship the way I like it; how dare you change something?
My first Sunday here, we had a pretty big interruption as Will Scott, and I think he passed out, I don’t exactly remember what happened at this point, but there was some commotion back there. So I went back to see what was happening, and he was lying down, I think one of our nurses was back there with him, and someone had called for an ambulance, so I prayed over Will and then went back up and we continued on with the service. The paramedics arrived and we continued on, and then before they took him to the hospital, we stopped the service again and had a group prayer for Will. Then we continued on with the service again. He ended up just fine after that.
We got to take this interruption and see it for what it was, a moment of grace. Those with the ability got to care for Will, the rest of us got to pray for Will, and continued to get to worship and share communion. The interruptions didn’t mess up the service. They made it more beautiful.
In other times and ways in which our prayers and our worship gets interrupted, maybe the interrupters really are just being jerks, or maybe the interruptions are moments of the presence of God breaking through so that we can be taken out of our comfort and routine and brought into the grace of God.
Perhaps the loud and busy child is a moment of grace, a chance for another adult to join with the parents to offer some loving support and attention to the child. The person offering support would be brought out of their usual worship and brought into the grace of communion with a young family, showing them that they and their children and beloved and belong.
Perhaps the myriad distractions and interruptions we face each day are likewise moments of grace, opportunities for us to let some harrowed person know that they are worthwhile, that they are worth our time and attention. That may seem a small thing, but being worthy of someone’s time and attention is at the core of what it is to be human.
God told Jeremiah, “before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.” We apply that verse to all people, saying that before all of us were formed in the womb, God knew us. We are all worthy of God’s notice, of God’s time and attention. We were not made to be alone. We were not made to be discarded. We were made to be connected to each other. We were made to be worthy of each others’ notice, to be worthy of each others’ time and attention.
The discarded woman in our Gospel story today was worthy of Jesus’ notice, worthy of his time and attention. People in our pews who are by themselves, who are struggling with kids are worthy of our loving and caring notice, worthy of our loving and caring time and attention. People whom we don’t like that much, or know but don’t see all that often are worthy of our notice, worthy of our time and attention. People at the bottom of our society, those often discarded, are worthy of our notice, worthy of our time and attention.
The world was interrupted by one such person couple of weeks ago with the photograph of a young Syrian boy. He had survived the bombing of a building and he sat in shock in an ambulance, blank-faced, covered in dust and blood. The world began taking notice again of the innocents of Syria, remembering that these people are worthy of notice, worthy of time and attention. I don’t know that a whole lot is going to actually change, as those in control of the situation in Syria (Russia, ISIS, the Syrian government) simply don’t care enough (or at all) about the least among them, the weak and the discarded. They care about their struggles for power, not about the discarded people living and dying beneath the weight of their power.
When we are annoyed by people when they interrupt us, when we disregard the least among us, when we don’t acknowledge or notice the worth of people, when we don’t give time and attention to those worthy of our time and attention, we’re not exactly bombing them and leaving them in shock, covered in dust, rubble, and blood. At the same time, like Russia, ISIS, and the Syrian government, we are still disregarding people who are worthy of our notice, worthy of our time and attention. When we’re annoyed by people when they interrupt us and don’t acknowledge their worth, we’re like the leader of the synagogue who said, “Don’t be healed today, come back tomorrow.”
I don’t say this to make us feel badly about ourselves, but rather to keep us from noticing the specks in other peoples’ eyes while ignoring the logs in our own. I also bring this up because we all want to feel worthy of notice, worthy of time and attention, love and belonging. The more we give that notice, that worth to others, the more we will believe in our own worth, the more we will believe that we are worthy of notice, that we are worthy of peoples’ time and attention, their love and belonging. That’s life in Jesus’ kingdom. That’s life through the eyes and heart of Jesus. People and the myriad interruptions they bring aren’t times to be lamented. Rather, people and their myriad interruptions are moments of grace where we have the opportunity to affirm in others and in ourselves the great love of God and the great worth which we all share, being worthy of notice, worthy of time and attention, worthy of love and belonging. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City August 14, 2016 - Proper 15 Luke 12:49-56 All In with the Jesus Movement
Have you ever heard Jesus referred to as the prince of peace? I’m often surprised to find that in the Gospels, Jesus is nowhere called, “Prince of Peace.” We get that term from a passage in Isaiah 9:6 which says, “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Passages in both Matthew and Luke allude to this verse from Isaiah, and we believe Jesus was the one referred to in Isaiah 9:6, so we call Jesus the prince of peace. Jesus said, “blessed are the peacemakers.” He told his disciples to have their peace be upon any house in which they stayed. He told people to be at peace with one another, and he constantly told people to go in peace.
Even at his crucifixion, he asked for forgiveness for his killers; if that’s not peace…and yet Jesus said in Luke 12:51, “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!” This seems rather contradictory to what Jesus lived and taught at other times, but I don’t think it actually was contradictory. Peace is what it seems that Jesus wanted people to have and to live, to be at peace within themselves and with one another. I just don’t think Jesus was naïve enough to think that everyone actually would live in peace.
He had a fire to kindle, a way of believing and living that got in the way of the status quo, that got in the way of peoples’ lives, and anytime you go from preaching to meddling, you’re going to cause or expose division. I don’t know that Jesus wanted division as a goal, but Jesus wasn’t about to stop preaching simply because some or even many weren’t going to like what they heard. He knew that those who believed in what he said would be rejected by those who did not, and he knew his followers would reject practices that ran counter to what he taught. Division was inevitable.
Following Jesus meant being all in, it still does, actually, and being all in means changing the practices and habits of one’s life. Look at addicts in recovery. Being in recovery means being all in, and that usually means changing social circles if those old social circles are full of whatever the addiction is. Being in recovery, what we would call repentance, turning around, means changing daily habits, lots of self examination, and having a mentor, someone to give guidance and support. Being in recovery is practicing a new way of life every day. Those changes can cause division.
Like being in recovery, being a part of the Jesus movement means being all in. It means repentance of ways of life which cause harm. Being part of the Jesus movement may mean changing social circles, or it may mean giving up some of the behaviors a person used to have, things that are harmful. Being all in means practicing the new way of life in Jesus, keeping the fire burning. Being all in means following in Jesus with one’s whole heart, repenting authentically and completely, even realizing that we’re going to fall short. Such all in following of Jesus is going to cause some division. The Jesus movement doesn’t have time or room for halfhearted love or entitled repentance, thinking that because I believe in Jesus I don’t have to take his teachings and way of life all that seriously. The Jesus movement requires total commitment. Even knowing that we’re not going to get it right all the time, fully expecting that we will continue to need to repent, the Jesus movement means being all in, not halfhearted.
I generally don’t use sports analogies to talk about the Gospel, I think mainly because I’m not a particularly athletic person, but we’re talking about practicing new ways of life. Sports kinda works, plus it’s the Olympics, and I think it’s just about required that we do some olympic-y themed sermon. So, for me, not an Olympian, playing various sports as a kid, I would go to a weekly practice, play whatever game it was in the yard maybe once a week for about 10 minutes, and then go to the game and hope or even think that I might do ok, or at least better than last time. I didn’t really like practicing so oddly enough I didn’t really improve much at any of the sports I played.
In stark contrast to that, I was blown away by seeing Katie Ledecky swim the 800M freestyle a couple of days ago. Before the race even started, I was blown away that they were swimming fast for over 8 minutes straight, around a half a mile. On some level, I knew that people did this and are able to do this, heck we’ve got an Ironman swimmer, biker, and runner here in the congregation, but still somehow I just didn’t get that you could swim for 8 minutes like they do in the Olympics. So, they did, and Katie not only broke her own world record, she finished 11 seconds faster than the silver medalists. She was halfway across the pool on her last lap before anyone else had made the turn.
That, my brothers and sisters, requires commitment. I’m sure she had to repent at some point too, had a Little Debbie snack cake at some point or another, but to swim on her level, she was all in. Practicing on the level of Olympic athletes requires a whole-life commitment, sometimes even moving to another place and living with the other athletes for a while. They aren’t athletes for an hour or two a week, and not for a practice, a tournament, and a few minutes in the yard. It’s a whole lifestyle. It’s being all in.
The Jesus movement requires practice. We can’t approach it like I did as a kid, kick a ball around for a few minutes once a week and think you’ll do well in the game. The fire of the Jesus movement requires Katie Ledecky kind of practice.
A word about that, though. If you’re like me, seeing the Olympics often inspires me to want to get in better shape, to be like the Olympians. Generally I’ll go out and walk the dog a little bit more often, or if I’m feeling particularly adventurous, I may even jog a little bit. My challenge has always been going out and doing too much too fast. I’ll go out and jog a mile having not jogged in months or longer, and as you’d guess, that’s about the last time I’d jog for a while. The fire is quickly burnt out because I threw all of the fuel into the flames right away, rather than slowly building and tending the fire. A short jog every other day, gradually increasing in length and frequency, would be much better.
So too with being all in with Jesus, we generally can’t change everything in our lives all at once and expect anything to stick. The fire will burn out, and we’ll end up tired and disillusioned. The fire of the Jesus movement requires slow and steady practice, continually increasing in duration and frequency, the flames slowly growing and burning brighter as with the Holy Spirit, we continually collect and add fuel to the fire. We aren’t doing this alone, we partner with God every step of the way.
The fire of the Jesus movement requires prayer and self examination. As we go along, we keep making changes to our lives as we continually examine our lives in light of Jesus’ Gospel. We gradually let go of things that keep us from loving and living with our whole hearts. We let go of things that keep our hearts and minds from God and others.
The fire of the Jesus movement requires others with us to serve as guides and mentors and for use to guide and mentor others. We don’t go it alone. Being all in means being all in with others. We have the whole church, and we also have those few people who truly understand us and who help us in our practice of walking and living the Jesus movement. We have those few people whom we can be honest to when we know we need to repent, those few people who will hold us accountable for our actions, who can admit with us that we’ve done wrong without judging us as being bad. These are our coaches, our friends, those who help us tend and grow the flames.
Being all in with Jesus may even cause division. Some may not like the fact that we love Jesus. Ok. Just make sure it is others who are rejecting you. We may reject practices, but not people. We may choose to live certain ways or not to live in other ways. In the Jesus movement, we choose to live in ways that bring about greater faith, hope, and love, and we reject in our own lives those things which get in the way of faith, hope, and love. What get’s in the way of faith, hope, and love for each of us, may not get in the way for someone else. The fact that we believe in Jesus doesn’t mean that we require others to believe. We don’t reject those who don’t believe in Jesus. We do accept, however, that we may be rejected because of our beliefs and way of life.
That’s being all in. Believing in Jesus, following in his ways, tending the flames and practicing our faith and way of life, paying and asking for the Holy Spirit to partner with us, and being with others for mutual coaching and support…that is how the fire of Jesus is kindled in us, burns in us, and spreads to others. Even if some reject us, because of our faith, hope, and love in Jesus, we choose to be all in. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City August 7, 2016 - Proper 14 Luke 12:32-40
The Risky Road of Love
I had a great week as a session director last week at Camp Allen. Having grown up going to summer camp there, it was a joy to be on the other side of things as one of our directors for 8 & 9 year olds. There were fun and games, time spent in prayer, and a program each day talking with the kids about parts of the Gospel. On one of the days, we talked about Resurrection, and we talked not only about resurrection after physical death, but also resurrection of many deaths throughout our lives. One example we discussed was the death of a friendship. The kids totally got that when we talked about kids being mean to each other, and the friendship dies. Then, we talked about kids reconciling, and that being resurrection of the friendship, a new life.
At one point the next day, a couple of boys got in a little scuffle. One of the boys kicked another in the shin, “for no reason”, said the boy who had been kicked. We talked to them separately, and the one who did the kicking said that the other boy had been pushing him down all week, and he was basically so fed up that he snapped. He was obviously very upset, feeling bullied.
We had the two apologize, and later, I then heard the one who had gotten kicked say he hated the other kid. I happened to be right behind him when he said this, so I asked him about it. He first said he hadn’t said it, and then I said, “but I thought I just heard you say you hated [the other boy].” “Maybe,” he said. I chuckled on the inside, and then we sat down and talked for a minute.
I asked why he hated him, and he said the other kid was always getting upset over nothing. They had used to be friends, and now they weren’t anymore, after he’d gotten kicked, he said. I then described that as the death of their friendship, and he agreed. So, I next asked about resurrection of their friendship. I told him that the other kid said that the one I was talking to had been pushing him down all the time. “I never did that,” he said. “I believe you,” I said, “but the other kid thinks you’ve been pushing him down. He’s truly hurt by something you’ve been doing around him. Now it’s time to get curious and ask him about it. Tell him that you’ve not been meaning to push him down or be mean to him. Ask him what you have been doing that’s been hurting him, and see if y’all can work that out. I know you haven’t been trying to hurt him. Make sure he knows that too. Then, perhaps y’all’s friendship can have new life.”
He seemed to get what I was saying and agreed to it. What this took was for the two boys to see things from the other’s perspective. They got to see the world not only through their own eyes, but also through the eyes of Jesus. There was kingdom living and a casting aside of fear in being generous with how we view the other’s motivations and actions. What if I’m wrong? What if he really is a jerk? What if he hurts me again? We cast that aside and trust in God’s kingdom way.
Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. It is your father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. God’s kingdom is a gift which we receive.
We don’t take it, we receive it, and Jesus tells us how to receive God’s kingdom: Sell your possessions and give alms. Be generous towards others, and do not be afraid of not having enough. There is a great saying which I’ve heard recently, author unknown, and the saying is, “People were created to be loved. Things were created to be used. The reason why the world is in chaos is because things are being loved and people are being used.” - author unknown
Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Do not love your things. Love people. Use your things, and greater still, use your things to help you love people.
That is how Jesus tells us to live in his kingdom which sounds a little scary, but basically kinda good. Then Jesus gets to the kinda scary part, right? “Be ready for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.” If you knew when the thief was coming, you would not let your house be broken into. Ok, let’s be honest, that’s a little scary, but remember, it’s an analogy. Jesus isn’t coming to steal your stuff. He really doesn’t care at all about your stuff. Jesus is coming, and we have no idea when he’ll show up, so be ready for his coming at all times. Live always ready to receive God’s kingdom by how you chose to live, and remember Jesus started this whole section of teaching with, “Do not be afraid.” I think some fire and brimstone preachers should remember that. Do not be afraid, and remember and strive to live at all times in such a way as to receive God’s kingdom. Live generously and lovingly towards others.
Jesus gives this analogy to create some urgency in us, because he knows we tend to slack off over time. If we knew Jesus was coming in three weeks, we’d clean up our acts pretty quickly and be generous and loving toward each other. His coming creates some urgency in us. I can see at least three reasons for this. Wanting his acceptance, the short timeline, and the joy of his love could all drive the urgency in us to be generous and loving towards others if we knew Jesus was coming in three weeks.
With the first reason, we want Jesus’ acceptance, so we clean up our acts and look our best at his coming. The problem is, that is basically a self-centered reason, and Jesus talked about being generous and loving toward others for their sake, not our own. Also, we don’t need to hustle for God’s acceptance; we have already been given God’s acceptance through Jesus. Now we simply get to love other for their sake, not to try to hustle for God’s acceptance.
The second reason we would find urgency in knowing Jesus was coming in three weeks is that with such a short timeline, we find it easy to do without. We can do without stuff and be generous and loving towards people for three weeks. No big. Of course, Jesus is asking us to be generous and loving all of the time. Act all of the time as though Jesus was coming in three weeks.
Finally, the joy of Jesus’ love is why we could be generous and loving towards others if we knew he was coming in three weeks. That’s why it’s easier to be kind to people around Christmastime. The joy of Jesus’ love is in the air, it’s palpable. We find it somehow easier to receive that joy and love and so we give it out to people all around us.
So, with Jesus’ teaching to be ready, Jesus is saying to behave every day with the joy and love we experience around Christmastime. Treat every day like Christmas is just around the corner. Treat every day like Jesus is right about to show up. Now, remember that you are already accepted and loved by him, so do not be afraid. Share the joy of that palpable love which he has for you and for all. Be loving and generous towards others because others are so beloved and valued. Give of your things, because in God’s kingdom, we love people, not our things. Other people, then love us, not their things.
I heard a great example of this Kingdom generosity and loving people not things while listening to This American Life on the radio yesterday. This was a story of refugee camps in Greece, and one camp housed Yazidi refugees from Iraq. The Yazidis are a often persecuted people whom America helped when ISIS was trying to annihilate them completely, and now they are largely living in camps fleeing genocide. In the particular camp I heard about yesterday, there is a man who made a shop selling necessities for life, food and other things. He charges very little, making almost no profit, and sometimes, people we come by and simply drop off money without taking anything. That’s because they took what the needed sometime previously. He runs the store on credit, asking people to pay what they can, if they can. At the current rate, he won’t be able to stay in business for more than a year or two longer, but he refuses to charge more or to stop giving to people on credit which they may or may not be able to pay. He said he’d rather go out of business than stop giving credit to people. He’s not running this shop to get rich. He’s doing it for his people. He’s not their leader; he’s just one of his people.
This man is not a Christian, but a darn good example of Jesus’ teaching. “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” This man is truly living God’s kingdom in how he treats others…loving people more than things, and truly being not afraid.
Living out God’s kingdom, receiving God’s kingdom requires us to see the world differently than we may otherwise. The refugee with the shop didn’t see people taking his stuff. He saw people in need and he saw his stuff as being able to fill that need. From there, is there anything these people won’t do for this generous man when he is in need? They are choosing not to be afraid and choosing to love people rather than loving stuff.
The boys at Camp Allen initially saw a mean kid who kicked them. Then they began to see through the lens of God’s kingdom, a hurt kid who felt like he was being bullied. From there, they could learn to love each other rather than holding on to hurt. Our hurt, our fear, feelings of being right: those can be things too, things that we hold onto in order to protect ourselves. Those boys at Camp Allen were learning to let go of those things. They are learning not to be afraid of each other, but to treat each other with generosity of spirit, seeking love over fear.
Fear says keep what you have; take care of yourself. Love says, “do not afraid; give generously for the sake of others.” Whether our things are physical things or mental/emotional things that we hold onto for self-protection, Jesus teaches us to receive God’s kingdom by giving up those things and taking the risky road of love instead. Remember, “People were created to be loved. Things were created to be used. The reason why the world is in chaos is because things are being loved and people are being used.” - author unknown
So, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Receive God’s kingdom and take the risky road of love. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City July 24, 2016 - Proper 12 Luke 11:1-13
You Can Do Better? No. You Are Enough
“You can do better.” That was on the message we saw as we left the weight room gym of San Marcos Academy, where we stayed for our mission trip last week. The women slept in the guy, and men slept in dorm rooms with beds (thank you, Kathy), and the only place we could get ice for our work days was in the back of the men’s weight room in the gym. We left there each day with buckets of ice reading the same message that guys from the school saw each day as they left the weight room, exhausted from their workout, “you can do better.”
I think the coaches or whoever put that message on the wall, probably intended it to be a motivational saying, but all I could think was that it was about the worst motivational saying I’d ever seen. When you’re completely worn out from lifting weights and your legs are jelly, and even lifting your gym bag takes some effort at this point, and all you hear it, “you can do better (weakling…you’re kinda pathetic).”
Unfortunately, that’s a message that we often hear in our world today. “You can do better.” “You’re not good enough.” Whether it’s magazine covers or TV, people we know, or even people we hear talking, not even talking about us, but just railing against someone else for something they did, and we’re thinking, “I hope they never find out I did something like that too.”
“You can to better” is a constant message we hear, and so it’s little wonder that we often approach God in prayer as though he is a huge Voltar Machine in the sky. The Voltar Machine is from the movie, Big, with Tom Hanks in which a 13 year old boy is tired of being the little guy, weaker and smaller than his friends, tired of constantly thinking, “you could do better if you weren’t so small,” so when he’s at a carnival, he sees the Voltar Machine. It’s a large box like a video game, but isn’t a video game, it’s a glassed in case with head and torso of a guy with a turban, looking like a genie from a lamp, and when you put your quarter in, you make a wish, some lights flash, and a little card comes out saying, “wish granted.”
So, in a desperate attempt to be better, the boy in the movie says to Voltar, “I want to be bigger,” and he wakes up the next day as a grown man, as Tom Hanks. Problem solved. There are a couple little challenges that come along with suddenly being a grown man, but you know, it’s a movie. It all gets worked out in the end.
Sadly, for many of us, we tend to approach God like he’s a huge Voltar machine in the sky, granting our wishes if we ask in just the right way. If only I was good enough. If only I was better. If only I could do better. God help me do better. God help me be better. Help me be more like…whomever.
That’s not the message of prayer that Jesus gives us. Jesus told his disciples to pray a very simple but very deep prayer.
To start off with, “Father, hallowed be your name.” Not, “great Voltar machine in the sky,” but Father...not wish granter. “Father, (one who lives me and will help guide me into all truth, one who sees me as a beloved son or daughter,) hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come. Not I want to be bigger, or I want to be better, or whatever. The implication here is, you are enough, and we’re praying, “your kingdom come.” So this is, one, the end of all time “your kingdom come,” the restoration of all things, but we’re also praying, “your kingdom come” right now. We’re praying that we’ll participate in God’s kingdom. If the kingdom is coming right now, then we have something to do with that. We don’t just pray, “Lord make it happen, and I’m going to be hands off, back here, just watching the show.” No, “your kingdom come,” and I’m asking to be a part of that as your son or daughter, Father.
Then we pray, “Give us each day our daily bread.” This is a prayer of trust, of trust in God and of asking just enough for what I need for today. There is kingdom work to be done today, and so I’m asking God for enough to help in that kingdom work today, not in a few years, not so that once I’m good enough in seventeen and a half years, then I’ll be able to do God’s work for his kingdom. Rather, today, I am enough for God to do God’s work for his kingdom. So please, Lord give me what I need to do the work for your kingdom now.
When we say doing work for God’s kingdom, what are we talking about? Bringing about the kind of world that Jesus preached about in those parables he told. For example, the parable of the workers in the vineyard in which some worked all day, and others only worked for an hour at the end of the day because they couldn’t find any work before then, and they all got paid the same, the daily wage. They got paid their daily bread. They got paid what they needed for that day, not what they needed for an hour’s worth of that day. The lived the whole day. So in God’s kingdom, you get what you need for the full day, even if you didn’t do a full day’s work. It’s not fair. God’s not fair, but that’s the kind of kingdom Jesus tells us to strive for, to bring about, to partner with God in bringing about.
Then we ask God to forgive our sins (which sounds great), as we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us (dang it!). We really are supposed to forgive which means we really are supposed to see others and not say, “You can do better. You messed with me and you can do better.” Instead we are to say, “You messed with me, and I get it. You’re not perfect, neither am I. I forgive you. It’s ok. You are enough, and I forgive you.” If we can’t say that we forgive those indebted to us, then that sign above the door, “You can do better,” really should be our motto because that’s what we’re proclaiming to everyone else. I don’t think any of us want that.
Finally, we pray, do not bring us to the time of trial, this time that we see in scripture where we are brought before God, and the Adversary, the Accuser, is there laying out all of our transgressions before God. We pray, “Please, Lord don’t make me face that, because I know I’m not going to do so well when all of that is laid out.” Do not bring us to the time of trial. What we’re praying is, “Jesus, I believe in you,” because what did Jesus do but say, “I’ve got this covered.” We’re right there at the time of trial; it’s all being laid out, and Jesus says, “No, no, no, this one’s mine.” He says that about all of us. He says that about everyone. “No, this one’s mine. I’ve got their sins covered.” So save us from the time of trial, Jesus. We’re praying, “Jesus, climb up on the cross, and take our sins upon you.” To which Jesus says, “Done.”
So Jesus gives us this very short, very simple, very deep prayer whereby he calls us beloved, whereby he tells us that we are enough as we are to work for his kingdom, whereby he reminds us to forgive others as he has forgiven us, whereby he reminds us that we are his eternally, and then he goes into this whole thing about how you’re supposed to pray all the time. He gives this analogy of a guy who had a friend with really bad travel plans, who showed up at midnight demanding food. (Wait six hours, dude, you won’t die.) As the story goes, we’re supposed to go berate our neighbors until they finally say, “Fine, here’s some bread; shut up; leave me alone.”
That’s how people do it. I don’t think we’re going to be praying to God until he finally says, “Ok, I hate you, I can’t stand you, but here, take this.” That’s not how God sees us. The idea is that if this person whom you have woken in the middle of night and who can’t stand you will give you what you ask just to shut you up, then how much more will God give us what we need since Jesus has already shown us that God loves us?
Does this mean, then, that God is the big Zoltar machine in the sky, that if we ask enough he’s going to make us bigger or better? No. Jesus tells us what God is going to give us…the Holy Spirit. God is going to give you what you need, and he tells us that what we need is the Holy Spirit. Now, is that because we’re not good enough without the Holy Spirit to do this kingdom work? No. It’s because God trusts us enough to work with us.
Ask for God’s Holy Spirit. Say, “God I don’t want to do this alone.” I guess I could. We say we can’t do anything good alone. Yes we can. We can do plenty of great things alone. It’s just kinda terrible. It’s so much better to do it with others, to partner in this Kingdom work with God, and God says not, “You can do better.” God says, “You are enough as you are, and trust you enough and believe in you enough that I will partner with you and grant you my Holy Spirit to do this Kingdom work together.”
So unlike the sign above the gym (we should have painted over that before we left…that would have been great; it would have been vandalism so I’m glad we didn’t), God does not say, “You can do better.” The sign above our door as we leave out house, as we leave in the morning is, “I am with you, and I am for you, and I will do this Kingdom work with you, because you are enough.” Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City July 17, 2016 - Proper 11 Amos 8:1-12 Luke 10:38-42
Don’t Do Your Chores, Kids
I looked through several children’s Bibles on a hunch over the last week looking for the Martha and Mary story we just heard, and my hunch was confirmed. Not a single one contained this story of Martha doing all the chores, Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet, and Jesus telling Martha that Mary had it right. No parent wants their children to hear this story. “Don’t do your chores kids. Just sit around and listen to Jesus.”
To be fair to both Mary and Martha, both work and rest are required. We gotta get our chores done. We gotta get our work done, and we want to strive for excellence in what we do. Mary is not the patron saint of laziness. She could be called the saint of setting aside all distractions and serenely receiving the Word of God.
Martha, on the other hand, wanted to receive the Word of God. Indeed, she had invited Jesus into her home, but then she was too busy being a host that she couldn’t just be with Jesus. She was like the people described in Amos 8:12, scurrying around searching for the Word of God and not finding it. Martha has become a symbol for our time and our culture, searching frantically for some peace, for some good news, for some way to keep our heads above water. Many of us even invite Jesus in, but we’re so busy and distracted, that we never actually find the peace, good news, and salvation for which we’re so frantically searching. Mary found the Word of God in Jesus and knew her search and scurrying were over. She could rest, and so can we if we will but choose to.
I’m guessing that for many of us, the thought that it’s actually good not to work for a while and just rest at Jesus’ feet is probably kinda nice. That’s not what our economy would probably say, not what businesses might encourage; we may even feel bad about taking that time to rest, shamed by all the frantically searching Marthas, but looking at God’s plan from the beginning, rest and intentional time taking rest is such an integral part of what it is to be human, that it is even part of the image of God in which we were made. God rested on the 7th day, just spent time with creation and with God’s self.
Kristin encouraged me to rest last Monday, not to do a whole lot, just relax, spend time with the kids. “I don’t relax very well,” was my reply, but she persisted. So, I relented and spent time resting and being with the kids. It was a great, grace-filled day. Jesus was there in that time spent with family, in the rest, in the Sabbath.
Looking at our traditional way of resting in the Word of God, we gather in our church for worship and communion for an hour each Sunday. Let’s be honest that for many folks nowadays, coming to a church service isn’t exactly the first and best idea of rest, or something particularly enjoyable. There are hard benches, old music, stories from an ancient book, sit, stand, kneel - that’s one way to experience worship.
Here’s another.
We join in prayers and a way of worship going back over a thousand years…joining with Christians from the earliest days of Christianity. We gather together with a community of faith, and doubt. We sit at the feet of Jesus, who is unseen, yet ever-present. We collect our prayers along with the prayers of others, and we set aside the worries of the day for a short respite; bring those worries here to lay down that heavy burden at the altar and take up the yoke of Jesus, his way and teaching, his life and guidance, and to receive his love.
Taking up Jesus’ yoke and receiving his love means that we have to let our guard down a bit when coming to church. For one thing, we have to see the cross. We have to admit that we don’t have it all together. We have to admit that as good a person as we each are, we’re also not great people, meaning that we all hurt each other. We’re all broken people who break others out of our brokenness. By coming to worship at a church, we have to acknowledge that, and we have to acknowledge our need for God to redeem us with himself.
Then, we also have to accept God’s acceptance of us. God loves and accepts us not because we are good and not in spite of our flaws. God loves and accepts us completely irrespective of our flaws because of how good God is. To accept God’s acceptance of us, we have to let go of our shame which keeps telling us we’re not worthy of God’s love, lay that shame down at the foot of the cross, and accept that we are worthy of God’s love and belonging, simply because God loves us and we belong to him. Period. We don’t earn God’s love and belonging; on the one hand we can’t earn it, and on the other hand, we don’t need to. We belong to God because we are beloved of God, because God chooses to love us no matter what.
Seeing the cross and then accepting God’s acceptance of us is why we come here for worship and communion. These ideas are expanded on more beautifully in John Newton’s book, Falling Into Grace, and I continue to recommend it to you.
With all of the fear and anger and hatred in our world, we need to know that we belong and that we are loved. Spending time, like Mary did, resting in the Word of God tells us that we belong and that we are loved. So, for an hour a week, we get to soak that it. We get to be lazy. We get to sit…and kneel and stand, and not work, so that we can see the cross and accept God’s acceptance of us. Let’s face it, we get to be lazy. In the Episcopal Church, you don’t even have to work that hard at praying. It’s all in written down in the Book of Common Prayer; you’ve got a script.
Now I realize having this worship service is work for some. Our altar guild prepares our space for worship; our ushers greet and guide us; our music leaders help us to pray through music and song; our lectors, acolytes, and Eucharistic Ministers help us to receive the Word of God in scripture and in sacrament, and our vestry members do just about everything on Sunday morning, especially if not primarily make coffee, the eighth sacrament. So there is work involved in Sunday morning, but that work is geared toward our rest. We’re both Martha and Mary.
So with that work and that rest, what about when we mess up? We say the prayers wrong, or sing out of tune, or spill the red wine all over someone’s beautiful white silk dress? As far as I know that last one hasn’t happened, and honestly, I’d just advise against wearing a white silk dress to communion, but if someone messes up…cool. This is a place of prayer and grace, of mercy, forgiveness, and love. What if the kids are too loud or rambunctious? Ok. They’re kids. Jesus said let ‘em come. Out there we’re constantly struggling to keep up our appearances of perfection or of having it all together; it’s exhausting.
In here, when we gather for worship or anytime we gather as a community, we get to be imperfect. We get to acknowledge the fact that we don’t have it all together, that we mess up, that our kids are loud. We get to be our true, authentic, flawed selves, and we get to be loved for being those true, authentic, flawed selves.
That’s what seeing the cross and accepting acceptance is all about. Getting to be our true, authentic, flawed selves, and getting to be loved for being those true, authentic, flawed selves is what sitting at the feet of Jesus allows us to do. Rather than striving for perfection, we can just be. We strive for excellence in our worship and in our preparation of this space, just like we strive for excellence in our lives. Then when we inevitably fall short of that excellence, we can laugh and smile, and give thanks both for the striving and for the falling short. After all, we don’t come here for our excellence. We come here for Jesus.
Jesus doesn’t come here because we are excellent or perfect. Jesus comes here because we are his and we are beloved. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City July 10, 2016 - Proper 10 Luke 10:25-37
Prejudice & Segregation Have No Place In God’ Kingdom
Jesus blew some minds and likely ruffled some feathers with his response to the lawyer’s question, “Who is my neighbor?” As understood in Leviticus 19, an Israelite’s neighbor was one of his own kin, a fellow Israelite. Neighbor was therefore narrowly interpreted so that loving others outside of Israel was not required. Certainly loving a Samaritan was not required. In fact, Samaritans were so hated and vilified by Israel, that being loving toward one of them may have even been seen as the wrong thing to do, or at least something that brought scandal and gossip.
“I heard Joe was being friendly with a Samaritan the other day.” “Ewe! Do you think he ate with one of them? They’re not friends, are they?” “I don’t know, but I don’t think we should be seen with Joe anymore.” “No. Not if he’s going to consort with those types of people.”
Into this insular nature and narrow definition of neighbor, Jesus told the parable of the Samaritan who helped the Israelite. The people hearing Jesus’ story couldn’t have wanted to identify with the priest or the Levite who saw an Israelite beaten half to death and went on by, leaving the man dying by the side of the road. They would have had to identify either with the Samaritan or with the beaten man who received help from the Samaritan. Either way, they were rather uncomfortable, their minds blown, wondering “how could a Samaritan be good?”, and also struggling with the point of Jesus’ parable. Their narrow definition of neighbor didn’t fit with God’s kingdom. They were segregated into Israelites and everyone else, and that segregation didn’t fit into God’s kingdom. Their prejudice and feeling that all Samaritans were bad didn’t fit into God’s kingdom.
Jesus showed them that there were bad Israelites and good Israelites, just like there were bad Samaritans and good Samaritans. Some were willing to hear and accept Jesus’ teaching, and others were not. The problems of prejudice and stereotypes still assault us today and often erupt into acts of violence, like the shooting of the police officers in Dallas last week. Such violence can lead us to double down on prejudice and stereotypes, to double down on fear and mistrust of others. I think Jesus was pretty clear that such doubling down on fear, mistrust, and stereotypes has no place in God’s kingdom.
Such was the conclusion of one man who attended the rally in Dallas and was leaving just before the sniper’s bullets began to fly. I read in the Huffington Post about this man, Kellon Nixon who had taken his son to the rally and left towards the end of the rally as some bad actors, not associated with the rally, began shouting negative things. Mr. Nixon is a 34 year old black man, a pastor at a church in Dallas, a husband and father, and in reflecting on the killing of the police, and running for his life and his son’s life, he said:
You start to think it’s me against the world. And with that type of mentality, we’ll implode as a people…We’re all one race at the end of the day. If we get a ‘me against the world’ mentality ― last night I was thinking, maybe it’s not black lives matter or all lives matter, maybe it’s just my life matters. Maybe it’s just my family’s life matters. I had to recover from that spiritually. I had to be reminded that love conquers all.
He then talked about showing mercy, and like in our story today, that mercy did not come from where he expected it to come. He said
At a point in my life, I sold drugs, and the honest truth is that the mercy that was extended to me wasn’t by other drug dealers, it wasn’t by African-American men. But it was by two Anglo-American officers that found me with drugs and they extended me mercy. And from there I was able to be a husband. I was able to be a father. I’m a pastor and a preacher now. And at the same time, when I’m in a three-piece suit, from the police I’m treated worse than when I was a thug.
So it proves to me that everybody’s not bad,” he continued. “That everybody wearing a badge is not bad. That every African-American is not bad. But we have to change our concepts. We have to change our ideology in this country. We’re so segregated in everything. We’re segregated in our schools still. We’re segregated in our religion. We’re segregated in churches. And it destroys us.
Segregation, prejudice, doubling down on fear and insularity does destroy us. It was destroying Israel in Jesus’ day. Israel was meant to be a light to the nations, and yet in Jesus’ day they had turned insular, segregated from the rest of the world, and prejudiced against others. Their insular nature and disdain for others was hiding the light they were meant to share and destroying them as a people. It is hard to have a heart that is prejudiced and segregated only against a few without that heart eventually turning prejudiced and segregated against many, or even most. Indeed, there were factions and prejudices within Israel, various groups fighting among themselves for who was following God’s laws the right way and who was anathema.
Their prejudice and segregation was a cancer, and Jesus said, “No more. Love one another. Show mercy. Stop being so self-righteous than you constantly notice other people’s sins and shortcomings while ignoring your own. Stop thinking you’re better than anyone else just because you are an Israelite or just because you are this particular brand of Israelite. Be united in loving one another and showing mercy. That is the way to eternal life.”
Those same words could be said by Jesus to the church today. “No more. Love one another. Show mercy. Stop being so self-righteous than you constantly notice other people’s sins and shortcomings while ignoring your own. Stop thinking you’re better than anyone else just because you are a Christian or just because you are this particular brand of Christian. Be united in loving one another and showing mercy. That is the way to eternal life.”
I know that we in the Episcopal Church think that we’ve got the best possible way of being a Christian and following Jesus, and that is true, except of course that it isn’t true. Being an Episcopalian is absolutely the best way of being a Christian for me, but not for everyone. There are plenty of ways of being a Christian, plenty of denominations that just wouldn’t work for me, but they work great for other people. That’s part of the beauty of the Body of Christ. We get to be very different in many of our practices and ways of life, but we are still united in Jesus.
I like to think that being a Christian is the best way for everyone, and yet there are so many wonderful people out there who aren’t Christian. They love people and show mercy, and they are therefore our neighbors and brothers and sisters.
There are bad actors within any group, within any ethnicity, race, religion, etc., and we tend to want to classify whole groups based on those bad actors. It is a way of self preservation based on fear. Jesus tells us, however, that doing so does not preserve our lives, it actually destroys them. In Luke 17:33, Jesus says, “Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it.” Trying to keep our lives secure through fear, segregation, and prejudice ends up destroying our lives. Embracing others and taking the risk to love those whom we fear brings us eternal life in God’s Kingdom, not only in the next life, but in this life as well. It’s risky, but that’s life in God’s kingdom, and risking life together is the only way forward, the only way that doesn’t lead to destruction.
We are the Body of Christ, broken on the cross, sealed in the tomb, and resurrected to life everlasting. We carry the light of Christ, and we have been charged by Jesus to risk our lives for the sake of others. We have been charged to love others, to show mercy, to call everyone neighbor. And so I leave us with the words of a rock band called Rush from their song, Everyday Glory.
If the future's looking dark We're the ones who have to shine If there's no one in control We're the ones who draw the line Though we live in trying times We're the ones who have to try Though we know that time has wings We're the ones who have to fly
We follow Jesus into the uncertainty of love, denying our fear, prejudice, segregation, in order to show mercy to all, living his kingdom of love and light. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City July 3, 2016 Proper 9, Year C Luke 10:1-11, 16-20
“???”
“Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven." These seem curious words to me, curious words for Jesus to leave with his disciples. He had sent them out to prepare the way for his coming into cities and towns. Seventy of his disciples, sent two by two, to stay with people, cure the sick, and to let them know that the kingdom of God had come near to them.
Then, the disciples returned, overjoyed that they were able to cast out demons in Jesus’ name, and who wouldn’t be. That was pretty awesome work they were doing. To cast out a demon meant you had some pretty strong Spirit of God working through you, which might boost one’s feelings of importance, not to mention that you’d just been a major help to someone desperately in need. So, I can guess there might have been some ego inflation going on and Jesus reminding them what was truly important. He was coming. Jesus was coming, and the kingdom of God would come not just near, but be fully among them once he arrived. Jesus’ presence, Jesus’ healing and grace was why they should be rejoicing, and they got to have a part in bringing Jesus’ healing and grace to others.
Boy do we need Jesus’ grace, healing, and love nowadays. Truth be told, we always do and always have, but there are times when that need is more apparent. Folks are worried, wondering, and divided over Brexit. Folks are worried, wondering, and divided over our upcoming presidential election, not to mention being worried and wondering over domestic and international terrorism, mass shootings, economic uncertainty, to name just a few, and people are divided over what to do about all of it.
We’ve got demons in our world, don’t we? Fear, anger, and hatred begetting ever more fear, anger, and hatred. We fear the problems in the world which lead us to anger and hatred, and then that leads to more fear on the part of others and even more anger and hatred. In the midst of all of this, Jesus reminds us, “I watched Satan fall from Heaven like a flash of lightning.” Jesus has seen the great enemy fall and be completely conquered, and that fall didn’t occur through fear, anger, and hatred, nor through worry, wonder, and division. Satan’s fall came through Jesus loving so completely, that he trusted God, put his life into humanity’s hands, allowing us to kill him, so that through his death, life, resurrection, restoration of all creation would come. Hatred, anger, and rear did not cast down Satan. Jesus’ love cast down Satan.
As it is written in Proverbs 10:12 - Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all offences. The love of Jesus on the cross covers all offences. In the end, the resurrection of Jesus will make all things new, and all of the bad and evil that has been done throughout creation will be redeemed, transformed in the resurrection, and seen and understood forever as the good that was intended.
And in the meantime…? The restoration of all creation has not happened fully yet, but Jesus’ church is here now to prepare the way. As Jesus sent the 70 to prepare towns and villages for Jesus; coming, the church is here to let people know of Jesus’ resurrection and the restoration of all creation, and the church is here to heal and cast out demons. We may think that we don’t see anything so dramatic as healing and casting out demons, but it is happening everyday in the church.
In this world, our beliefs and our notions of being right divide us so that love that we might feel is often left lying on the side of the road, discarded by our rightness and our perceived righteousness.
Then we see two men in the church, so deeply divided over the issue of homosexuality that even the words they use to describe their beliefs are abhorrent to each other. They sit down to talk and listen to each other, continue to disagree, but also understand that they are both seeking what is right and good in Jesus. They embrace, and leave as brothers who love each other. People are being healed and demons are being cast out.
Many people in our world and even in our city are left alone and isolated, not really belonging. They turn to the places where they think they have found belonging, being lured into drugs, prostitution, murder, enslaved by those whom they thought loved them.
Then we see a few people who don’t quite fit in. Some are new to the community, others desire something more than to wallow in the poor hand they’ve been dealt. They find embrace in the church, a community that truly loves and welcomes them with no strings attached. They are taken under the wings of a couple of particularly caring people who shepherd them further into this community built upon the grace and love of Jesus. They find love, acceptance, belonging, a home. People are being healed and demons are being cast out.
A man has skin cancer, but he has no insurance. He knows, rightly or wrongly, that the systems intended to help people who fall through the cracks are broken, and there is no way he can get the seemingly simple operation he needs.
Then he asks help from the church where he eats breakfast every Friday. He finds someone willing to help shepherd him through the process, be his advocate, pray with him, even help with some of the initial financial costs. With the church’s help and guidance, he gets through the seemingly broken system and has the surgery. People are being healed and demons are being cast out.
A long-standing family feud continues to bubble just beneath the surface. The dance of avoidance and well-practiced politeness begins to grow tired, and then a misstep. The dancers fall, the walls of politeness crumble, and the anger and resentments boil over, burning all involved.
Some in the family are reminded of the love and forgiveness of Jesus. They remember that we are all broken and only break each other out of our own brokenness. They hear the words of Jesus on the cross, “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” Compassion begins to form. Tears are shed not only for the self but also for the other. A first apology is made, not the practiced dance of avoidance and politeness, but the initial faltering steps of descent towards the grace of Jesus and the long road toward to the new dance of reconciliation. People are being healed and demons are being cast out.
Each of these vignettes are stories of St. Mark’s. They could also be stories of churches around the world where the presence of Jesus casts out demons and brings healing. The presence of Jesus among us and within us is what makes us the church. Like the seventy who were sent by Jesus to minister to people and to bring news of the Kingdom of God through Jesus, we too are commissioned by Jesus to cast out demons and to heal each other. We’ve been commissioned by Jesus to take his presence with us wherever we go. We’ve been commissioned by Jesus to bring our faith in him wherever we go, and we’ve been commissioned to talk with others about our faith, to talk with others about Jesus and his kingdom of peace, healing, and love.
That is the kingdom that will come fully one day, not through any effort of ours, but purely through Jesus. In the mean time, like the seventy whom Jesus sent, we’ve been sent on ahead to live and share his kingdom, to bring healing to division, to bring faith to fear, to bring peace and reconciliation to anger, and to bring love to hatred. We’ve been sent on ahead to bring Jesus with us, and to rejoice, in him, in his love, his peace, his faith, and his healing in this world which so needs it. Rejoice, for the kingdom of heaven has come near, and it is present with us amidst all the toils and dangers of this world, for in all of it, Jesus is here. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City June 19, 2016 Proper 7, Year C Luke 8:26-39
“Somewhere to Cast Our Demons”
Earlier this week, while beginning my preparation for today’s sermon, I posted the following on Facebook. “We need to stop hunting wild hogs. Without them, we’ll have nowhere to cast our demons. Amen.” There were several comments, some people taking the post very seriously, some rather disgruntled by the theological or huntingological implications. My favorite comments, however, came from my cousin Nicki, who reposted what I had written. In response to one rather disgruntled response, she wrote, “I thought it was funny. Father Bradley Sullivan is my cousin. I know his sense of humor...I used to change his diapers.”
Saying we need to stop hunting wild hogs so we’d have a place to put our demons was all I had at the time for a sermon starter, and it gave me a chuckle so I figured I’d share. Then I started thinking that metaphorically speaking, it’s not that bad of an idea…not the wild hogs part, but the idea that we really do need somewhere to cast our demons.
When the legion of demons begged Jesus not to cast them into the abyss, it seems that they were speaking of the abyss mentioned in Revelation (bottomless pit from which the demons came). Imagery of the abyss from which the monsters and later demons come goes all the way back to the great deep of Genesis from which fountains of water came forth to drown the earth. Therefore, they abyss is often associated with water, the seas where the great monsters and the Leviathan dwell.
So, the demons begged Jesus not to cast them back into the abyss, and it seems that Jesus granted the demons’ request by sending them into the pigs, and then they ended up going into the abyss anyway as the pigs rushed headlong into the lake and were drowned. In the spiritual realm, the demons went back to the abyss.
For us, in our world today, our society and our world are like the man amongst the tombs. We are rife with legions of demons: demons of anger, demons of fear, demons of hatred, just to name a few, and we desperately need somewhere to cast our demons. I should say we need somewhere other than each other to cast our demons. In our country, we tend to take our anger, fear, and hatred, and cast it all over each other. Sometimes we cast our demons onto each other through our fearful words and angry rhetoric. Sometimes we cast our demons onto each other through hurtful actions that separate and divide us. Sometimes we cast our demons onto each other with sprays of bullets into unsuspecting nightclub patrons, moviegoers, prayer groups, or elementary school students.
As much as the exceedingly vast majority of Americans would never cast their demons onto others by shooting them, there is a connection between our speech, our words and actions, and the bullets that fly. Fear, anger, and hatred lead only to greater fear, anger, and hatred, and eventually to division and killing. As Bishop Doyle wrote in his response to the mass shooting at Pulse nightclub last Sunday in Orlando: The Internet is already full of unchristian, disrespectful, and horrific responses supporting the shooting and demonizing Islam.
The reality is that we in this country are responsible for creating a place where hate speech is glorified, unnecessary weapons of mass destruction are freely accessible, and violence is cheered.
Yes America, we are reaping what we sow.
I too believe we are reaping what we have sown, and I’m not talking about guns. I’m talking about the ways we talk to and about each other and especially how we talk to and about the other. There is so much fear, anger, and hatred constantly being spewed out in conversations on the internet, in coffee shops, on the radio, the TV, even in churches and in our homes. We have been setting an enormous blaze with our talk. As James wrote in James 3:5-10: How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! 6And the tongue is a fire. The tongue is placed among our members as a world of iniquity; it stains the whole body, sets on fire the cycle of nature, and is itself set on fire by Gehenna. 7For every species of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by the human species, 8but no one can tame the tongue—a restless evil, full of deadly poison. 9With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. 10From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so.
The blaze we have set with our tongues, with our words both written and spoken, is a blaze of fear, anger, and hatred, and fear, anger, and hatred are our demons. These demons have divided us, made us weak, and turned us against one another. These legions of demons have done to us what Jesus did to the legion of demons that we dwelling in the man. While the demons were together, acting in the man as one, they were strong. No chain could hold him. No people could restrain him. Once Jesus cast the demons into the herd of pigs, they were divided, and they were weak. They rushed headlong into the abyss, the very place where they feared going.
As a country, as a church, as the Body of Christ, we have been divided by the legions of demons of fear, anger, and hatred. We have been weakened by our divisions and have been rushing headlong into the abyss. We need to stop casting our fear, anger, and hatred on one another, and we need to find another place to cast them. We need to find a safe place to cast our demons so that they won’t continue to cause greater harm, and the only place we can cast our demons without them harming others is God.
One way of casting our demons upon God is prayer, particularly prayers of lament, as I wrote earlier this week. We read in the Psalms prayers of lament, prayers of people who are so fed up, that they are crying out to God, even blaming God for the problems that beset them, asking God to seek vengeance upon their enemies. Some of these prayers make a turn and offer blessings and praise to God; some of them do not and simply end with these prayers of anguished cries, calling for God’s vengeance and questioning God’s justice.
We need to bring back the prayer of lament so that we can cast our demons upon God rather than upon each other.
It sounds easy, especially for the preacher man to say that we should cast our fear, anger, and hatred upon God rather than each other. I realize that with some of my preaching about loving our enemies, not seeking retaliation, it may seem that I’m rather detached from the violence and hatred in our world. I am not. I fear for my children’s lives. I remember riding my bike a half a mile or more away from home, spending whole days down by the creak behind our neighborhood, totally unsupervised. I can’t imagine my kids doing that nowadays. I’ve come into adulthood in a world in which being shot by a sniper while stopping for gas along a highway is a viable reality for me and my children. I am afraid for my children and the world they are inheriting. I want to protect them. I want to stop anyone who would harm them, and in the moment, if someone was trying to kill them, I have little doubt that I would do everything in my power to stop them, even if it meant killing the killer. I don’t know if that goes against what Jesus taught or not; I simply know it is what I would do.
At the same time, I know that the more I dwell on those thoughts and fears, those plans for horrific eventualities, the more the demons of fear, anger, and hatred fill my heart and guide my actions. I know that I can’t with any success rail against the things in this world that I don’t like. All my fearful and angry writing and speech will do is add fuel to the fire, increase the blaze, and cast even more demons upon others already plagued with demons of their own. I’ve done more than enough of that already, as have many of us, or all of us.
We need to stop all of the blame and simple solutions for the problems in our world, given as ways to alleviate our fear, anger, and hatred. One easy target has been the government, folks saying the problems started because we took prayer out of schools or removed the 10 Commandments from government building. Before we start blaming governments or states or school districts for removing prayer or Christian symbols and practices, we need to look at the potential of logs in our own eyes, remove them, and then lead by example. Saying, “the problem is that they took prayer out of our schools,” is simply casting a demon of blame upon the world. Such a statement makes someone else to blame, and makes the problem someone else’s to solve.
The problems of casting our demons upon others is a problem that is all of ours to solve. Render to God what is God’s. Give the demons of blame to God. Pray to him your blame of someone else. Or even blame God and pray that to him. God can take it. God would probably appreciate the honesty. God is the appropriate place to cast our demons, because unlike everything in all creation, our demons can’t hurt God.
Render unto God what is God’s to deal with. Render unto God our demons of fear, anger, and hatred, so that he can cast them out. Like the woman last week who came to Jesus full of sin, weeping upon his feet, we need to come to Jesus full of demons and then weep them out at his feet.
When we weep our demons out at Jesus’ feet, we will likely feel powerless. With that, we find yet one more demon with which we struggle: our powerlessness. We want solutions to the problems in our world and we are mostly powerless to make those solutions happen. So we rant, we criticize, demonize, we divide.
Divided, we rush headlong into the abyss. We weren’t made for division. We were made to be unified in Jesus. Unity does not mean unanimity. With all of our difference, we were all baptized into the one body of Jesus Christ. “All baptized people are called to make Christ known as Savior and Lord, and to share in the renewing of his world.” (BCP p. 531 - Ordination: Priest) We were not made to share our anger for the destruction of this world. We were made to share our faith for the renewing of this world
We certainly need to share our fears, our anger, and even our hate with others, but for the purpose of seeking help in bringing those demons to God. We are meant to help each other cast our demons out upon God. As baptized disciples of Jesus, we are meant to do for each other what Jesus did for the man suffering from a legion of demons. We are meant to help each other find a herd of wild hogs and help each other cast our demons there. I realized just likened God to a herd of wild hogs, and I probably just secured 10 more years in purgatory for it, but the analogy holds true. We need a place to cast our demons, and that place is God, and we need to act as Jesus for each other, helping each other to cast our demons upon God, rather than upon each other. Rather than remaining divided, rushing into the abyss ourselves, we cast our demons upon God so that they will run into the abyss, and we will remain united in Jesus. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City June 12, 2016 Proper 6, Year C Luke 7:36 - 8:3
“A Woman After God’s Own Heart”
Imagine sitting down for dinner with Jesus at Simon the Pharisee’s house. It’s a fairly nicely appointed house, not a rich man’s house, but you can see that this Pharisee is well off, nonetheless. They had low tables and didn’t use chairs, so you’re sitting or kneeling at the table with several others, servants have brought bowls for you to wash your hands, and the meal is about to be brought out. Then this woman begins weeping behind Jesus, poring her tears onto Jesus’ feet and wiping them off with her hair. You’re getting quite uncomfortable at this point, waiting for Simon to do something, and thinking to yourself, “Well, this is awkward.”
Jesus, for his part, doesn’t seem to mind in the least. Apparently he likes a foot massage, and was not in the least bit interested in what was proper. Then, rather than Simon, the host speaking up, Jesus begins speaking to Simon. You think he’s going to talk with him about lax security around the city that this sinful woman could even enter, or possibly congratulate him on being a gracious enough host for not kicking this woman out immediately, but that enough was enough. Instead, Jesus insults Simon for not being a gracious enough host, not offering him a kiss or water for his feet. Pretty rude of Jesus, you think, to insult their host. Then, Jesus comes way out of left field and says this woman’s sins were forgiven because of her rather unseemly behavior. Didn’t Jesus know anything? She didn’t even bring an animal to be sacrificed by the priests.
What you didn’t know was that Jesus was reading at least the Pharisee’s mind, maybe yours too, and the Pharisee, Simon, wasn’t concerned that the woman was there, nor that she was crying over Jesus’ feet and wiping them with her hair. He was concerned that a “sinner” was touching Jesus and that Jesus seemingly didn’t know that she was a sinner and try stop her. Simon questioned Jesus’ prophetic powers and ministry.
Jesus, for his part, wasn’t really concerned with social norms, nor his status in the guests’ eyes as a prophet, nor a perfect follower of the Jewish animal sacrifice system. Jesus was interested in repentance, forgiveness, grace, and love. He didn’t see the woman’s actions as impertinent, out of place, or awkward. He saw a woman who deeply desired reconciliation with God. He saw a woman who was in anguish because of her sins. He saw a woman who wanted to repent wholeheartedly, a woman who was falling, a woman who needed grace, forgiveness, and love.
As for the woman, we don’t know what she had done that she was considered “a sinner.” Nothing in the text says what her sins were; Jesus simply says her sins are “many.” Interestingly also, nothing in the text indicates that she wasn’t supposed to be there. Simon, the Pharisee didn’t ask her to leave or to stop what she was doing. You’d think if she was an intruding and the whole thing was totally improper, that someone would have spoken up. Perhaps they were all too taken aback, just sitting in uncomfortable, awkward silence. We don’t know.
We don’t know what her role was in being there. Perhaps the Pharisee, as a religious leader, regularly had people to his house, even those he did not know, his household serving them, as part of his work in teaching about God’s law. Total speculation on my part, but it could serve to explain why the woman was not asked to leave, or how she was there in the first place.
However she got there, the woman was not concerned about being improper or awkward. She loved much, was torn apart on the inside by the guilt of whatever sins she had committed, and she desperately wanted forgiveness. So, when she heard Jesus was at the dinner party, she boldly sought him out to seek forgiveness. She put aside any shame she had, did not hide, or pretend, or make up some story. She sought Jesus out wholeheartedly, brought what she had, and did for him what she could out of a deep desire for a new beginning.
She couldn’t turn her life around. This woman was stuck in whatever sins she had committed. Even her touch brought the Pharisee’s ire, and she couldn’t claw her way back from being anything other than what she was reported to us as being, a sinful woman. She needed Jesus’ grace and love to declare her forgiven and to give her resurrection, a new start. The difference between this woman and Simon the Pharisee was that unlike Simon, the woman knew that she needed resurrection, knew that she needed Jesus’ grace, forgiveness, and love.
Looking at another sinner who needed repentance, we have our story this morning of King David. David is seen as the greatest king Israel ever had. He was devout in his faith in God, and he led the people to remain true to God, not running after false idols as so many kings after him had done. David was also a murderer, and adulterer, and very likely a rapist. When David saw Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, bathing, he wanted her and being the king, he got what he wanted. Being that he was the king, Bathsheba probably didn’t have much say in the matter. She probably didn’t exactly figure she could just say, “No thank you, your Grace.” So we now have David as an adulterer and likely rapist. Then, when Bathsheba became pregnant by David, he had her husband Uriah killed by placing him on the front lines of battle and then commanding that all others draw back so that Uriah faced an army alone. Now we have David as a murderer, to hide his adultery and rape.
Like Simon the Pharisee, David was blind to his sin, until Nathan opened his eyes with the story he told of the rich man who took the poor man’s sheep. Nathan was very clever in showing David what he had done, and David was completely incensed at the injustice and greed of the rich man in the story. Then Nathan dropped the hammer on David. “You are the man,” Nathan told David, and at once, the scales fell from David’s eyes, and he realized what he had done to Uriah and Bathsheba. Once his eyes were opened, David repented with his whole heart. “I have sinned against the Lord,” David said, and truly meant it.
With all that David did, his terrible, obvious sins against God and other people, David is called a man after God’s own heart. He obviously wasn’t during the time of his adultery/rape/murder affair, but David had been called a man after God’s own heart before he was king, and he repented wholeheartedly after his affair. It’s hard for us to reconcile that. Adulterer, rapist, murderer: forgiven. It doesn’t seem fair, and it’s not. God isn’t fair. Grace isn’t fair. Imagine King David was not a lofty king living thousands of years ago, but a regular guy, not well off, living now in Bay City. Imagine he raped a married woman by coercing her into having sex with him against her will and then conspired to have her husband killed. Once her husband was dead, imagine this Bay City degenerate took her as his wife, she having become pregnant by his rape of her and knowing full well that he had had her husband killed. She’s probably terrified at this point. Then, imagine this man coming to his senses, realizing what he’s done, and that realization cutting him to the very core of his being. Imagine this man desperately wanting to atone for his sins, desperately wanting forgiveness, probably going to jail, and imagine Jesus declaring him forgiven. He’d still be in prison, but forgiven by God, beloved of Jesus.
That doesn’t seem fair. Thankfully, grace isn’t fair. Thankfully God isn’t as concerned with our notions of fairness as he is concerned with his beloved children. God sees us all as both perpetrators of sin and victims of sin. We are victims of sin, from the moment we are born. Even those born to loving parents begin almost immediately to be broken in thousands of little ways as they grow, and as they and as all of us grown, we end up breaking others out of our own brokenness. Whether our sins are obvious and known or hidden and known only to ourselves or only to God, all of us are sinners, broken people who break others out of our brokenness.
So back to the woman in our Gospel story today. Unlike Simon the Pharisee, the woman knew she was broken. She knew she had broken others out of her brokenness. She knew she needed grace. She knew she needed a new start, and so she sought out Jesus and humbled herself at his feet. She didn’t try to put on a show of how good she was so that he would accept her. She came to him full of sorrow, full of weakness, full of regret, and full of need.
Now, this woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and dried them with her hair has usually been labeled a prostitute, people assuming that the Pharisee’s description of her is euphemistically calling her a prostitute. Of course anywhere else in scripture, when a woman is making her living via prostitution, she is simply called a prostitute, so if she were, Luke would probably just have written that she was a prostitute, but he didn’t. Labeling any specific sin for this woman forces the reader to miss the point of the story. If we can label her sin, then we can focus on that particular sin, and many readers can disassociate themselves from the story because they don’t share that particular sin. The point of the story, however, is not what her sins were or weren’t. Her sins were many just like all of our sins are many. The woman is any one of us. The point of the story is her repentance and Jesus’ love and acceptance of her.
Rather than label the woman with any particular sin, I recognize that the woman was brave. She was a model of approaching God in humility and self-awareness, in authenticity, and in boldness, seeking his grace, forgiveness, and love. She is a woman after God’s own heart.
Jesus was never interested in people who thought they were better than others. He had little time for those who believed they did not need repentance. Jesus had a heart for those who knew themselves to be sinners, who knew they needed God’s grace, and who came seeking God’s grace. Rather than thinking ourselves to be better or less sinful than the woman in the story, we need to remove the log from our eyes before judging her speck…or better yet, we need to come to Jesus with ointment and tears and the log still in our eye, and ask him to remove it. Ask him for resurrection and the new start that we all need throughout our lives. Following the example of the woman after God’s own heart, trusting in God’s unfair grace, we too, all of us, anyone, can approach Jesus in humility and self-awareness, in authenticity, and in boldness, seeking his grace, forgiveness, and love. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City May 29, 2016 Proper 4, Year C Luke 7:1-10
“That’s Now How the Force Works!”
The faith in Jesus of the centurion in today’s Gospel reading was absolute and his faith reminds me of the faith of another soldier, a man named Finn, former Storm Trooper turned good guy in the latest Star Wars movie. Finn’s faith was not in Jesus but in the Force; for those who aren’t familiar with the films, the Force is a mystical, well “force” which some people in particular can partner with to do extraordinary things. They call it using the Force, but there are only a very few people who can use the Force, and they must be trained in order to do so. Finn was not one these people, in fact, he knew almost nothing about the Force, but he had heard about it, and he believed in it.
He had been a soldier, a Storm Trooper for the evil First Order which was trying to subject the entire galaxy to its tyrannical rule, and Finn decided he wasn’t going to fight and kill for them. So he switched sides, joined the Resistance, and went back to a First Order base to try to disable their defenses. Being a former soldier of the First Order, it seemed that he would be able to do so, until it turned out that he actually had no idea how to do so. He had returned there to save a friend who had been captured. The man who was there with him was rather incredulous, reminding him that all of their friends and indeed the entire galaxy were counting on them to disable the defenses. So Finn, who knew almost nothing about the Force, replied, “We’ll work it out; we’ll use the Force.”
“That’s now how the force works,” his companion replied. Finn knew almost nothing about the Force, and yet he trusted in the Force completely. The centurion knew almost nothing about Jesus. He’s never met him. He just heard that he could heal people, and he trusted in him completely. He believed Jesus could heal his servant, just by speaking a word. The people around Jesus had to be thinking, “but that’s now how healing works!” He was nowhere close to the servant at the time, and in fact had never laid eyes on the servant. Jesus’ ability to heal an unknown, unnamed man from a great distance just by speaking a word wasn’t how healings had ever gone before, and yet the centurion trusted in Jesus that he could do it. That’s what got Jesus’ attention, the faith of the centurion. “Not even in Israel,” Jesus said, “[had he] seen such faith.”
This centurion was a non-Jewish foreigner who was a part of the force used by Rome to keep their occupied territories in line. He was likely viewed as an enemy to most Jews, possibly even to Jesus, and yet we are also told that this man had built a synagogue for the Jewish people where he lived. Rather than treat the people harshly, which his job may have had him to, he treated his potential enemies as friends, and they in turn treated him as a friend. By all accounts, this centurion was a good man with a bad job, following some of Jesus’ teachings without even having heard them, but even that wasn’t what got Jesus’ attention.
The centurion’s trusting faith was what got Jesus’ attention.
The centurion, by Roman thought was above Jesus, and yet he made no pretense about being greater than Jesus. He was asking Jesus for help, and he understood from what he had been told about Jesus, that Jesus had authority over creation. “I submit to you, Jesus,” was the centurion’s message. “I’m asking you for help; I believe you can do it, and I’m not going to ask for anything more than that. You don’t need to come here. I don’t need to see. I believe in you so strongly, just say the word and he can be healed.” Those around Jesus were likely thinking, “but that’s not how healing works.”
Maybe not before, but it certainly did that time. The centurion trusted in Jesus, and he understood submitting to those with authority over him. He understood Jesus to have great authority, and so he trusted in him absolutely.
Trusting in Jesus and submitting to God’s authority ultimately means we are not in control of our lives. We have personal agency and can make decisions, sure, but ultimately, our lives are in God’s hands, and control of our lives is an illusion. The centurion’s faith showed that he understood his lack of control and he, a part of the conquering army of Rome, submitted himself to Jesus, an itinerant preacher from a nothing town in a conquered kingdom. He submitted himself to Jesus because of what he had heard about Jesus, and he knew that if what he had heard was true, then he had no authority over Jesus; submission was the correct posture to take.
For us, or at least for me, submitting our lives to Jesus is not always the easiest thing in the world to do. We like our illusions of control. We trust in Jesus especially with our death, but trusting Jesus with our lives can be a little bit more tricky. I find rather frequently that I want to fully submit my will over to him, and yet it isn’t all that easy. There is the war within me between the flesh and the spirit which Paul wrote about in Romans 7. The thing I want to do I don’t do, and I do the very thing I don’t want to do. When I’m really honest with myself, I find often that I trust Jesus, but to do what exactly? Sometimes I figure my way is good enough; at least it’s known. Trusting my life more fully with Jesus may mean venturing out into the unknown, and being a good Episcopalian, change isn’t always my best friend.
Now, I have found when I do submit my will to Jesus, things turn out better. I am more at peace. Things don’t always turn out exactly how I thought they would, and usually, something of what I wanted to be has to die. Ironically, sometimes the very thing that needs to die, along with my way of doing things, is my goal of doing the right thing and being a better person.
That’s not because what we do doesn’t matter. What we do matters very much, but if we could heal ourselves, we wouldn’t very well need Jesus. I can want and try through my own efforts all I want to be better and to do better, to elevate myself, and I can succeed to some extent, but my efforts ultimately fall short of what I desire, and certainly fall short of what God desires for me. Healing doesn’t come from my efforts, from me elevating myself, but from what the Rev. Canon John Newton calls, “falling into grace.” In his book, Falling Into Grace, he says we experience grace and healing not by striving harder and elevating ourselves, but rather: we see the cross, accept acceptance, and wait in weakness.
That’s what the centurion did. Saw (or heard about Jesus) and sought him out. He then sent emissaries to Jesus, just as he was. He didn’t send soldiers to force Jesus to come, and he didn’t try to wow Jesus with his greatness. He just offered who he was and gave his request. Then he waited. No mighty act, no cajoling, the centurion just waited in weakness.
Waiting in weakness can be the biggest part of the struggle. We tend to want thing now. Amazon can overnight our purchases, and yet for Jesus, we have to wait, but that waiting can be key to our healing, and it can also mean waiting when we don’t get the healing we want. Then we find out what healing we really need. That happens as we wait in weakness and see the cross again, our own desire for healing being crucified as we accept not only God’s acceptance of us, but accept our own acceptance for life as it is, for us as we are, and then wait on God healing us in ways we were too blind even to know we needed.
We tend to know or to think we know exactly what kind of healing we want or need. I think that’s why I often struggle with the healing stories of Jesus. It’s not because I don’t believe in the stories. I do. I believe Jesus healed many people, that he loved and cared for people with a fire that we can only imagine. I believe Jesus had power and authority over all of creation. He still has that power and authority. That’s why I often have a hard time with the healing passages. I haven’t seen a miraculous, instantaneous healing, the kind we hear about in the story we heard today. I’ve heard stories of modern day healing, and I do believe that miraculous healing still happens, but I struggle with the healing texts because I haven’t personally witnessed it.
Then, I wonder about why sometimes people are healed and why sometimes people are not. Why are not all followers of Jesus healed? There are some simple answers to the questions of why and why not, answers which I think are completely false. “We or those we love don’t believe strongly enough or in quite the right way and so Jesus doesn’t heal us.” Totally false.
The most honest answer I can give as to why healing sometimes happens and sometimes doesn’t is, “I don’t know.” I don’t know how Jesus works, but I trust in him. I trust in his goodness and love, and I ask him to heal the parts of me that don’t.
I haven’t experienced as much healing of the kind we heard in the story today, but what I have experienced is healing of souls and lives. That goes to the primary healing Jesus came to give, the healing of our souls and the healing of our lives. That healing comes as we see the cross of Jesus, acknowledging that death will come to us, even the death of parts of our lives that we may not want to die. We then accept God’s acceptance of us, just as we are. We needn’t elevate ourselves to be enough for God, in fact we can’t elevate ourselves. Rather, God accepts us as we are, and our challenge is to trust in God’s acceptance and love of us. Then, we wait in weakness for Jesus to transform us through his grace.
We don’t necessarily know what that transformation and healing will be or how it will happen. Like Finn in Star Wars, we have no idea how the Force works, but we trust in it anyway. Ultimately we’re not even entirely sure how Jesus works, and yet we submit to him and trust in him just the same. We submit and trust in Jesus because of the fierce love Jesus holds for us and the healing he desires for our souls and lives. Like the centurion, trust in Jesus’ love, accept Jesus’ acceptance, and then wait in weakness for Jesus’ grace and healing. Amen.
We are who we are because God is who God is. God is a relationship of persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God is also one. We are made in God's image, individuals made for relationship.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City May 15, 2016 Pentecost, Year C Acts 2:1-21 Romans 8:14-17 John 14:8-17 (25-27) Heaven Dwelling Within Us
Pentecost of known as the birth of the church. It is the day in which the Holy Spirit took Jesus’ 12 chief disciples, 12 followers of Jesus, and gave them power and authority to be 12 leaders of Jesus’ church. Now Jesus had more than 12 disciples, and his church already numbered in the hundreds at this point. A few days before the day of Pentecost, there were 120 followers of Jesus gathered together to fill the leadership void left when Judas betrayed Jesus. Matthias was chosen and became one of the 12 apostles, one who had been with Jesus from early on and had witnessed Jesus resurrected during the 40 days after his resurrection before he ascended into heaven.
So Matthias filled Judas spot, the 12 apostles were gathered together devoting themselves for prayer and were waiting, as per Jesus’ instructions, for the Holy Spirit. The rest of Jesus’ disciples? We don’t really know, but they were likely waiting too, wondering what was to come of them and what was to come of this new Jesus movement. Then on the day of Pentecost, 10 days after Jesus’ ascension, Jesus’ group of followers, waiting and kind of directionless became Jesus’ church with a mission to continue Jesus’ work of healing, reconciliation, and love. a fledgling band of Jesus’ disciples were transformed by the Holy Spirit into a world altering force. That’s the kind of thing the Holy Spirit does, transform, give power and authority, and unite disparate people into one.
On that morning when the Holy Spirit came among the disciples, tongues of fire rested upon them, and they began to speak in other languages so that all who heard them speak, heard them in their own native tongue. This was a reversal of the confusion of languages that had happened all the way back in the book of Genesis with the tower of Babel. In that story, the peoples of the earth all had one language, and they united together to build a great tower, reaching up into heaven. There was no great and lofty purpose for this, they simply wanted to “make a name for themselves.” They weren’t seeking each others’ good; they simply wanted to marvel at their own accomplishment. Then the LORD said, "Look, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down, and confuse their language there, so that they will not understand one another's speech."
In the story of Babel, God confused our speech to limit us so that we wouldn’t be able to accomplish as much mighty acts and feats as we wanted. It’s not difficult to see why. Many of our mighty accomplishments come with great human suffering. The pyramids of Egypt, one of the seven wonders of the world, were built by slaves. Men and women, beloved of God, were used up and discarded, their lives valueless to their Egyptian masters, all so that a few pompous Egyptian kings could have really pretty places to place their corpses. To this day, we still marvel at the pyramids, I marvel at the pyramids, and in our marveling, we forget what matters most, what matters to God, the human cost of building such marvels.
So, knowing our propensity for marveling at our own magnificence while ignoring and totally devaluing other human beings, God chose to confuse our language, making it more difficult for humanity to work together to accomplish great marvels.
That is, until the Holy Spirit came upon Jesus’ apostles and transformed them into the church. For the first time, a religion was no longer the religion of only one people. People throughout the world could unite under Jesus through the power of the Holy Spirit. The power and unity that the Holy Spirit gave had a purpose, and that purpose was not for marvelous wonders so people could make names for themselves. The power and unity of the Holy Spirit united people of all nations and languages so that they could care for each other and value each other, the least and the great alike, and continue the work of reconciliation and love which Jesus gave in his Gospel..
God entrusted to the apostles and through them to the whole church, what God had not entrusted to people since the earliest days of human civilization: the unity to accomplish great things. The Holy Spirit united the church and gave power and authority so that Jesus’ disciples could do great things, but not marvelous wonders. They could do the same kinds of great things that Jesus did, caring for people. If that ain’t good news, I don’t know what is. The well being of people is the one purpose for which God entrusts us with the power and authority of his own spirit to accomplish great things: only for the well-being of people.
The greatest things the church accomplishes are, of course, the very things that often go unnoticed by others. Grand structures, buildings, institutions, those are things people notice, but that’s not why God gave the Holy Spirit. - During times of plague, and the sick and dying had no one to care for them but a few strangers who happened to be disciples of Jesus, that is why God gave the Holy Spirit. - Helping children who have difficult home lives and less than stellar role models, providing good role models for them and loving them, that is why God gave the Holy Spirit. - Allowing black South Africans, who suffered decades of apartheid, to forgive their abusers and embrace them as brothers and sisters, that is why God gave the Holy Spirit. - Choosing unity over division, love over being right, personal sacrifice for the sake of another, that is why God gave the Holy Spirit.
That is the Jesus movement. Continuing the Jesus movement is why God gave the Holy Spirit. God gave the Holy Spirit so his mission of reconciliation and love could be lived out within his church. The Holy Spirit can do what even Jesus could not do, dwell and move and work among multitudes of people all at the same time. Jesus left the disciples so that the Spirit could come. The Spirit comes to us, where we are, God’s light inhabiting our bodies so that the love and reconciliation of Jesus can be lived out in us. Poet Mary Oliver wrote:
The spirit likes to dress up like this: ten fingers, ten toes, shoulders, and all the rest at night in the black branches, in the morning in the blue branches of the world. It could float, of course, but would rather plumb rough matter. Airy and shapeless thing, it needs the metaphor of the body, lime and appetite, the oceanic fluids; it needs the body's world, instinct and imagination and the dark hug of time, sweetness and tangibility,
to be understood, to be more than pure light that burns where no one is-- so it enters us--in the morning shines from brute comfort like a stitch of lightning; and at night lights up the deep and wondrous drownings of the body like a star.
God took no pleasure in our trying to ascend to heaven by some mighty act of building a great tower. God took no pleasure in our trying to be great, but not because God does not take pleasure in dwelling with us. Rather than have us harm each other and enslave each other to build some great tower to reach into the heavens, God sends the light of his Holy Spirit so that heaven may dwell within us. We need not make a name for ourselves because God has already given us a name, and that name is beloved. So to continue Jesus’ work of reconciliation and love, to continue the Jesus movement, God has given us his spirit and united us as one church so that Heaven will dwell within us and through us. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City May 8, 2016 7 Easter, Year C Acts 16:16-34 Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21 John 17:20-26
Everyday Glory
I often pray, generally every day, at least once every day, and generally if I’m praying for something that I want, I’ll say a sentence or two about it, but sometimes I find that it’s something that I’m desperate for God to say yes to, and so I’ll not just give the one or two sentences, but then I’ll think, “Is there any other way that I can ask this and make sure to cut off any loop hole that God might be able to wiggle out of saying yes. I feel that’s a little bit like Jesus’ prayer for his disciples at the end of John’s Gospel. He’s praying that the disciples would be one, that they would be united in his love, and in all of the different kind of ways that he asks this, we find an awful lot of passion in this prayer.
We call Jesus’ arrest, crucifixion, and death, his passion, and we also find in this prayer his passion for his disciples. He is giving this passionate plea to God the Father that God will take care of them when he has gone: when he dies and when he ascends. Jesus knows he is not going to be with them much longer, so he gives this impassioned plea to God, making sure God can’t wriggle out of it in any way, and what does he pray for?
He prays for unity and love among not only his disciples who are there but also among future generations of disciples who will come to believe in him through their words. Ultimately, then, Jesus prays that his disciples will be formed in and live out the image of God in which they were made. John says “God is love.” We understand God to be a unity of persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, bound together so completely in love, that they are one. So Jesus is praying that his disciples would be one as he and the Father are one, that they would love one another, that they would know the Father’s love. He’s praying that his disciples will live out the image of God in which they were made.
Then, Jesus also prays that they will behold his glory, the glory that he was given before all of time. What kind of glory was he hoping that they would behold? Is this a prayer that they would see his heavenly glory as we hear about being revealed in Revelation in the heavenly city and heavenly throne that comes? I think quite possibly, “yes.” He’s praying that they will see this full revelation of his heavenly glory at the end of all time or at the end of their lives, but glory does not only come then.
They see his glory also when he is resurrected. They see his glory also when he is arrested. They see his glory also when he is crucified. I could call this “earthly, everyday glory,” Jesus’ glory of accepting death, accepting the cross, and trusting in God for the resurrection. This everyday glory is the kind of glory we get to experience (hopefully) every day.
I’m stealing the phrase, “everyday glory,” from the band Rush, and one of their songs called, “Everyday Glory.” I’m not going to play the song; I tried playing a Rush song on my guitar months ago, and I think we can all agree that was a mistake. So today I’m just going to give you the chorus: Everyday people. Everyday shame. Everyday promise shot down in flames. Everyday sunrise. Another everyday story. Rise from the ashes a blaze of everyday glory.
Well, that’s accepting the cross, dying, and being resurrected right there, the kind that happens in our everyday lives. “Everyday people. Everyday shame. Everyday promise shot down in flames.” The wonderful messiah that everyone thought Jesus would be as he accepted his death on the cross, shot down in flames. Everyday sunrise - Easter. Another everyday story. Rise from the ashes a blaze of everyday glory, and there we have resurrection.
In our everyday lives, then, what does everyday glory look like? We rise from the ashes to what? We rise from the ashes to Jesus’ prayer, to unity and love. That’s the everyday glory that Jesus prays for us, that we would behold his glory in our lives. That everyday glory, that everyday resurrection, that everyday unity and love doesn’t just come through resurrection; that is the resurrection. The everyday glory comes through the cross.
Here we are back in Lent again, and of course the prayer of Jesus is a prayer from Lent, his prayer for his disciples just before he is arrested and crucified, but the prayer teaches us something more about resurrection. It teaches us that glory is not greatness. It can but, but today, we’re talking about glory as waiting, and trusting, and letting something die.
That is the everyday glory that Jesus is praying for his disciples, that they would trust in God as he has trusted in God, even to the cross. Jesus is praying for his disciples that they would wait patiently for God, even as Jesus waited patiently in the tomb. I don’t know what three days feels like when you are dead, but I imagine it feels like an eternity.
Jesus prays for his disciples that as he died on the cross, that they would let die within themselves whatever is keeping them from unity with one another, let die within themselves whatever is keeping them and love for one another. Jesus showed us the way, on the cross, to everyday glory, and so we are called to follow him to the cross and to let die within us whatever needs to die, those things that we hold fast to in order to prevent ourselves from being harmed. We don’t want to be wounded again as we get wounded throughout our lives and so we armor up, and Jesus is saying, “Let go of that armor.”
We need to become weak. We need to let ourselves die.
Then, letting ourselves become weak, letting ourselves die, God takes over, and we allow ourselves the freedom to follow and to trust in God, trust in his way, in his way, trust that even though we may not know what in the world is going on, we’re going to trust in God. As we do that, we find that we embrace death. We embrace the cross, and then, from the ashes of that death, rises everyday glory.
When we become weak enough, we find that we can love, because we are no longer so strong that we don’t need love. When we become weak enough, we find that we can be unified because we must be. When we are strong, we need no one else.
To find the unity and love that Jesus prays that we will have through his impassioned, no-loophole prayer to God, he prays that his disciples will wait on God, that his disciples will trust in God, and finally that his disciples will let themselves die in an everyday way so that they could then rise in everyday glory.
An everyday people with everyday shame, with their everyday promises shot down in flames, but then an everyday sunrise with their everyday stories, rise from the ashes in a blaze of everyday glory. Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City May 1, 2016 6 Easter, Year C Acts 16:9-15 John 5:1-9
Alms for An Ex-Leper?
In the movie, The Life of Brian, Monty Python showed a rather silly example of this idea that being healed can actually be rather difficult. The movie was a comedy, which took place in Israel during the lifetime of Jesus. Brian, a historically insignificant and unknown Jew, found himself caught up in a series of crazy situations, his life often mirroring the life of Jesus. In the scene showing the difficulty of being healed, Brian is walking through town when a man comes prancing up to him asking, “Alms for an ex-leper?” Brian is not initially interested, and there is some haggling going on as the Ex-Leper continues to reduce the amount he is asking for when he finally comes to his rock bottom offer:
Ex-Leper: Okay, sir, my final offer: half a shekel for an old ex-leper? Brian: Did you say "ex-leper"? Ex-Leper: That's right, sir, 16 years behind a veil and proud of it, sir. Brian: Well, what happened? Ex-Leper: Oh, cured, sir. Brian: Cured? Ex-Leper: Yes sir, bloody miracle, sir. Bless you! Brian: Who cured you? Ex-Leper: Jesus did, sir. I was hopping along, minding my own business, all of a sudden, up he comes, cures me! One minute I'm a leper with a trade, next minute my livelihood's gone. Not so much as a by-your-leave! "You're cured, mate." Bloody do-gooder. Brian: Alright, well, here you go. Ex-Leper: Half a denarii for my bloody life story. Brian: There’s just no pleasing some people. Ex-Leper: That’s just what Jesus said sir.
The ex-leper did admit that leprosy was awful and that he would have preferred Jesus to have come back and given him some less-bothersome, yet alms-worthy malady, so that he could have continued to ply his trade of begging alms. Sometimes, the hardest thing in the world is to be healed. Without healing, life may be kind of crummy, but we adjust and adapt and become so accustomed to how things are, that we’d prefer not to be healed over risking changing how things are.
“Do you want to be made well?” Jesus asked the man who had been ill for 38 years. I heard the suggestion recently that Jesus’ questions was not rhetorical, but an honest question. “Do you want to be made well?” Jesus had a gift to offer this man, but he would not force it on him.
Imagine the change that would come upon this man when suddenly he was made well, when suddenly he wasn’t lying by this pool anymore waiting to come into the waters. When he didn’t’ have people pitying him anymore, he whole world was going to change. Responsibilities would be now upon him. While welcome, that was probably going to be a daunting transformation of his life.
If we look at this story of physical healing and apply it to our spiritual healing, we see Jesus asking us that same question, “Do you want to be healed?”, and we find that our answers are not always “Yes.” For the healing that comes through accepting Jesus’ grace and love, through trusting in him and following in his ways, sometimes our answer to “Do you want to be healed?”, is “Yes, but not yet.”
That was St. Augustine of Hippo’s famous prayer, “Lord, please make me a Christian, just not yet.” He believed that if he were to become a Christian, he would have to change his life; he’d have to give up a rather carefree, womanizing life, and actually be dedicated to Jesus’ teachings. He believed that following in Jesus’ way would be a better life for him. He believed that it would be more fulfilling, that it would bring about more good, that he would actually enjoy life more, but he just wasn’t ready to bite the bullet and stop his carousing, carefree, party-boy life. So, his response to Jesus’ question, “Do you want to be made well?”, was “Yes Lord, just not yet.”
Sometimes the hardest thing in the world is to be healed. The healing that Jesus offers means transformation, and transformation is a daunting prospect. I may know that things aren’t good the way they are, but I can’t imagine life any other way. We may hold onto our past hurts, cling to our pain, because it feels like a shield against future pain.
The man Jesus healed had been ill for 38 years. The story doesn’t say what his malady was, just that he was ill. He said he had no one to put him into the pool when the water was stirred up (when the healing powers of the water were present), and so someone else would always beat him to the water. I’ve always imagined the man as a cripple who was crawling to the water with lifeless legs dragging behind him, and perhaps that is the case, but perhaps not.
Perhaps the man could walk, he just walked slowly, fearful of what would happen if he was healed, or maybe fearful that he would enter the water and not be healed. Perhaps he was afraid that he would enter the water and not be worthy of being healed. Remember that sickness was often seen as an affliction given by God as punishment for sin. If the man entered the water and was not healed, then he was not forgiven. Perhaps that fear of being unforgiven, that fear of being unlovable was too great, and the man remained as he was.
Ultimately, that was the healing Jesus gave to the man. He cured the man’s illness, whatever it was, and in doing so, he declared the man forgiven of his sins and beloved of God. Be not afraid, be not ashamed, for you are God’s beloved, and God’s grace is more than sufficient for your sins.
Lutheran Pastor, Nadia Bolz-Weber, wrote of God’s grace being enough for her sins. She had at one point been a bit of a jerk to a parishioner, totally unknown to the parishioner, but it was weighing on her, and she needed absolution; she needed to say out loud to another human being the crappy thing she had done, and she then needed to hear the words of God’s forgiveness spoken over her. So, she called her friend, Caitlin, who was also her confessor. Of Caitlin, she wrote: [Caitlin] knows me. Really well. And she is unimpressed with my sin. I’ve told her things about myself that I’ve not told anyone else and she still wants to be my friend. Not because she is magnanimous but because she believes in the power of forgiveness and the grace of God. Caitlin was unimpressed with Nadia’s sins. That’s how God is with us, unimpressed with our sins. Our sins are a big deal to us, and in one sense our sins are a big deal to God. Our sins are a big deal and they matter to God because our sins are the ways we hurt ourselves and each other. Our sins are a big deal to God because we are a big deal to God. Through our sins, we end up separating ourselves from each other and from God, and God wants to be united to us and for us to be united to each other. So our sins are a big deal to God, a big enough deal that God became human in the person of Jesus and let us kill him on the cross so that he could receive all of our sins, receive all of our sins in that macabre embrace, and having taken all of our sins upon himself, could say, “Father, forgive them.”
Such is the grace of Jesus, that having taken all of our sins upon himself and having been killed by us, he has forgiven us. So, while our sins matter to God, God is also totally unimpressed by our sins, because his grace, forgiveness, and love are so much greater. The sins of the entirety of all human kind throughout all time are very great indeed: pettiness, insults, jealousy, abuse, rape, murder, genocide, holocausts. The sins of humanity are vast as the ocean, limitless as the sky, beyond our reckoning, and the sins of humanity are totally unimpressive when met with God’s grace, forgiveness, and love.
That is what Jesus offers us when he says, “Do you want to be healed?” Imagine a life not held captive by guilt or shame from past sins. Imagine a life not constantly scrambling to be good enough to be worthy of God’s love. Imagine a life not held captive by the past hurts that others have given because you have been forgiven yourself by God and therefore able to forgive others.
Imagine a life transformed, sometimes a daunting prospect, and so Jesus asks, “Do you want to be healed.” Do you want to be transformed by God’s grace? Do you want to be transformed by God’s forgiveness? Do you want to be transformed by God’s love? Do you want to let go the sins and the hurts of the past as God has let them go for you? Do you want to accept that there will be more sins and hurts in the future and let go of those as well? No longer clinging to our sins and our hurts, no longer clinging to our feelings of needing to be good enough to be worthy of God’s love, not longer clinging to all of the past and future mess, “Do you want,” Jesus asks, “to fall into God’s grace and accept that you are forgiven and beloved?” Amen.
Brad Sullivan St. Mark’s, Bay City April 24, 2016 5 Easter, Year C Acts 11:1-18 John 13:31-35
I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."
Hearing those words makes me love Jesus even more and want to follow him and trust in him. His commandment that his disciples love one another is part of his farewell speech and prayer for his disciples before he is crucified. Jesus knew he was going to die, and he knew he had a pretty good following. He knew that if he chose to, he could have asked them to fight for him, and they would have done it. They might have even kept him alive in their efforts. Of course, some of them would have died in the process, and he loved them far too much for that, not to mention that he knew it was not God’s will.
Rather than disobey God, rather than risk harm for those whom he loved, Jesus chose to be killed. Not only that, but remember that Jesus had been working for years to reform people’s understanding of God, of their relationship to God, and of their relationship to each other. He’d been working for years to show people that love, faith, and grace are at the heart of their way of life. For the people of Israel, he didn’t abolish the law of their religion, he fulfilled it through love, faith, and grace. For the gentiles, who were added to Jesus’ movement after his resurrection, he came to show them as well, that love for one another, faith in God, and grace given by God and accepted and re-given by us, is the way of life, the way of life abundant and life everlasting which he gives to us.
This movement of Jesus, this movement of love, faith, and grace which he had spent years working on, was just getting started as Jesus was about to be killed, and he chose to trust his movement to his fledgling disciples rather than risk their lives or take up the sword against another. That is the Jesus whom we love, the Jesus whom we follow, the Jesus in whom we have faith, the Jesus who loves us and gives us grace that we might receive his grace and then offer it to others.
Love one another, Jesus said. Have faith in me, and follow me even when you doubt. Receive grace to forgive you of all your misdeeds, grace to heal you from the shame of the past, grace to offer to others just as I have offered it to you. Such is the life and the community which Jesus gave to us. When I think on that, on that community for which Jesus gave his life, I cannot help but love Jesus and want to continue on as his disciple.
That is what I see when I see the church, not an institution. There is a paradigm shift in that when we can see the institution of the church as the church, but it is not. The shift is to see us as that community of people whom Jesus loves. Last week, Kristin and I watched Spotlight, the best picture last year which told the story of the Boston Globe newspaper breaking the story of the immense systemic abuse of children in the Roman Catholic church. As I was watching the movie and then thinking about what Jesus commanded his disciples, I kept thinking, "How did Jesus’ community of love, faith, and grace become an institution so powerful and corrupt that children around the world were being abused by priests for decades with almost total impunity?"
The reasons and many and vast and would take looking at most of church history to fully understand. Without going into centuries of church history, however, I will look at one culprit that allowed this to happen, and that is the near deification of clergy.
Children often thought of the clergy as God, or at least as speaking for God. Adults did about the same. Clergy were put up on a pedestal throughout the institution of the church so much so that no one dared go against them. The people ended up under the thumb and under the rule of the clergy, and it wasn't just the clergy's fault; the people also elevated them. There was a partnership there in raising the clergy up so much so that the people were under the clergy's thumb, the clergy claiming the place of Jesus within the church, but in the total opposite way that Jesus led his church.
While the clergy were elevated above who they actually were, Jesus descended. That was Jesus' way. Though he was in the form of God, [he] did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:6-8) Over the centuries, the church began exalting their leaders so much so that when corruption and abuse became systemic, no one would stop it, because they couldn’t go against these exalted people.
Now the abuse of children in the Roman church is one example of how far the church often can be from the community of love, faith, and grace which Jesus began. It's a graphic example, but there are many ways that we can stray from the community of love, faith, and grace which Jesus began. We also need to remember, lest we end up casting unfair aspersions, the Roman Catholic church is also a wonderful church which full of people and clergy of love, faith, and grace. I brought up the abuse as a graphic example of how divergent the church can become from the community which Jesus began.
Looking at this example, and how it happened, the exaltation of the clergy, we don't get to just point to Rome for that one either, lest we ignore the log in our eye for the sake of the speck in someone else’s; we often elevate clergy in the Episcopal Church too. I’ve often heard that clergy are held to a higher standard of behavior than others, to which I continually counter that clergy are not held to a higher standard. People may actually hold clergy accountable to standards of behavior to which they don’t hold themselves or others accountable, but there is not a different standard of behavior for clergy and for everyone else. If there were, that would be an institutionalized system of ignoring the log in one’s own eye for the sake of the speck in someone else’s. Elevating the clergy, holding them to a higher standard, goes against what Jesus taught and is not the way of the community he founded.
Jesus didn't set himself above everyone else; he descended. He didn't set his apostles above everyone else; he said to become a servant. Jesus’ church is not a place where we hold one another to various standards of living at all, in actuality. Jesus' church is not a place of keeping score with one another, keeping track of sins.
Jesus said on the cross, "It is finished." This system of keeping track of sins and trying to make right for our sins to God is finished. No more sacrifices for sins. No more tallies. No more keeping score. No more gospels of sin management.
Gospel’s of sin management have often pervaded the church, people thinking that our prime purposes in the church is to do better, sin less, and get to Heaven when we die. Even with Jesus’ help, such a Gospel basically puts Jesus in the role of a ticket puncher. If you’ve believed in Jesus well enough and behaved well enough (even with his help), then Jesus punches your ticket and you get to go to Heaven when you die. We'd like to add that it's not because of anything I do, it's purely because of the grace of Jesus, but then by how we talk about it, by how we live, these gospels of sin management basically make it so that you're earning your way to Heaven. You're doing enough that Jesus will finally agree to punch your ticket.
Fortunately, that is not the gospel for which Jesus died. That is not the gospel Jesus taught. That is neither the faith nor the church which Jesus left his disciples. “Love one another,” Jesus said, “that’s how they’ll know you are my disciples.” Jesus’ command to us continues to show his love for us. His disciples were a bunch of screw ups, if we’re being honest (if we're going to be counting sins, that is), and Jesus entrusted his church to them not in spite of their screw ups, not because they were screw ups, but completely regardless of their screw ups. Jesus entrusted his church to his disciples because they were his beloved. We continue as Jesus’ church simply because we are his beloved.
We don’t raise ourselves or anyone else up in Jesus’ church. We don't raise ourselves above anyone else. We accept the fact that we are beloved, and that is often the hardest task in our life, to simply accept the fact that we are beloved. We accept the fact that we are beloved of God, and we e receive the great love Jesus has for us, not because we are worthy, not because we have earned his love, but simply because we are beloved. We believe in Jesus, accept his love, and follow him, even when we can hardly believe, desperately clinging to this hope of Jesus’ love for us. Even when we give up that hope and faith in Jesus' love for us, Jesus' love that catches us even and especially when we fall, Jesus love catches us. So Jesus asks us, commands us to accept his love. Accept that we are his beloved and then live and give Jesus’ grace. That is the community of the church. That is what we see, or what Jesus would like us to see, when we see his church.
Now, we often see the church as something else. We see the church as a vast institution, like how people viewed the Roman Catholic Church, but the Roman Catholic Church is not an institution. The Roman Catholic Church has an institution. The Roman Catholic Church is a community of people who are beloved of Jesus. Period. Full stop. Paradigm shift: What is the Roman Catholic Church? Not an institution, but a community of people who are beloved of Jesus. Then, the Roman Catholic Church has an institution which at times serves it well and at times not so well.
Our church too is not an institution, but our church has an institution. We have a whole institutional structure in the Episcopal Church, but that institution is not the church. That institution is what the church has created, what we have created over the centuries to serve us. The institution is the tool we have constructed to help us order our lives. The institution is a tool of the church, but not the church itself. The church itself, the is the community of the beloved. Jesus’ church is the gathered and often disperse community (those who no longer gather, those who no longer believe but are still caught in Jesus' love).
The church is that community of people who know, and love, and accept, and forget, and mess up with Jesus’ love. The church are those who believe in Jesus even amidst doubt, or stop believing in Jesus, and then fall into Jesus’ grace. The church is not those who are climbing upward and striving to heaven. The church is those who are falling, continually falling into Jesus' love and Jesus' grace. What is who we are as the church. We are Jesus’ beloved, not because of who we are, not because of what we do, but simply because we are Jesus beloved. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 3rd Easter, Year C April 10, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX John 21:1-19
“Have Some Kryptonite” – Sayings of Superman in Jesus’ Kingdom
As we know, Jesus’ disciples and hoards of his followers were wanting Jesus to be a big gallant conqueror who would kick out Rome and end up basically ruling over all the other nations, so that Israel would not only remove Rome from power, but would also take Rome’s place as the world power, the empire over all nations. Jesus told his disciples and hoards of followers that he was not going to bring about some huge military campaign to establish his kingdom, at least he said this implicitly. He taught about not fighting against the governing authorities, turning the other cheek when someone hits you; he said, “My kingdom not from here, if were, I’d have angels coming, to my rescue, but as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Then he proved that he really was going to live by what he taught and not seek to conquer all nations by dying, dashing completely the messianic hopes that people had in him.
As a story goes for a Messiah, it’s a rather lackluster ending. Not very flashy, it’s a difficult cinematic climax. It’s Batman vs. Superman, but superman doesn’t even put up a fight. He says, “here, Batman, have some Kryptonite and do me in.” “Lame,” many of his followers were thinking. They were disillusioned.
Then Jesus was resurrected. He cannot die again. He could come and go at will at this point, appearing and disappearing. He could presumably do anything now, and no amount of Kryptonite on Earth could stop him, and so he had a nice breakfast on the beach with his friends. Even after resurrection, the kingdom of God was not brought about by conquering others.
On the beach, over breakfast, Jesus got to turn around the denials Peter had given him. Three denials, three chances to say, “I love you.” Not only that, he asked him three times to feed his sheep. Jesus gave grace to his disciples who abandoned him, and asked them to continue his work and ministry. The kingdom of God is brought about through grace.
My guess is that Jesus was not overly fond of Rome as a world governing authority. While there was much that was good about Rome, they were brutal, power hungry conquerors. They would take over your land and then tax you to pay for the army that had just destroyed your people. Jesus and his followers, ruling through grace, would definitely have been a better world governing authority than Rome. The prince of peace ruling over all the nations would have been fantastic, except that to become that world governing authority, to supplant Rome, Jesus and his followers would have had to become just as brutal as Rome, killing or imprisoning dissidents, conquering nations who didn’t want to be conquered, forcing themselves onto people who didn’t want them there.
The message of grace, the reality of grace, would have been destroyed in conquering and struggle. The Jesus movement was not won by force, or threats, or coercion. The Jesus movement was won through grace.
Consider Saul who had been persecuting the church and even helping to put Jesus’ followers to death. He was like Darth Vader hunting down and destroying the Jedi. Then the grace of Jesus brought Saul back from the dark side of persecution and into the light of Jesus. When Jesus spoke to Ananias in a vision, telling him to lay his hands on Saul so that he could restore his sight, Ananias was understandably wary to doing so. I imagine he was also not overly pleased with the idea of giving sight back to the persecutor of Christians. Like Jonah who didn’t want Nineveh to repent, that’s why Jonah fled, remember, and the fish brought him back. He didn’t want Nineveh to repent; he wanted Nineveh to burn. So like Johan not wanting Nineveh to repent, I can imagine Ananias not wanting Saul to regain his sight. He deserved to be blind after what he had done. He shouldn’t get to see and be healed. The grace of Jesus allowed Ananias, despite his fears, to go to Saul, to lay hands on him and heal him, and to embrace him as a brother.
Then Saul became Paul, so great was his transformation through the grace of Jesus that he had to change his name. He was a new person, and his old name would no longer do. Paul then went about on a grace campaign, teaching about Jesus to all who would hear. He went to gentiles, to non-Israelites, and the Jesus movement spread beyond Israel, even beyond Rome, and there was no military, no conquering, no force of any kind. There was teaching and preaching, healing and caring for people, forgiveness and love. The Jesus movement, Jesus kingdom, was spread through grace.
On a quick search through Paul’s letters, he mentions grace 86 times.
Looking at our world today, how we live with grace and live out the Jesus movement, there is an awful lot of grace in the church. There are very loud voices out there talking about Jesus, but voices which have very little to do with grace. I was talking with my neighbor this weekend, and he was telling a story about how judgment often takes the place of grace in people who call themselves Jesus’ disciples. He told a story of a man at work who looked at what another employee was doing and said, “He shouldn’t be doing that; he’s a Christian.”
Ok, now there are certainly many behaviors and actions which we should not be taking because those actions are harmful to others and to ourselves. Paul wrote in his letters quite a lot about behaviors we should and shouldn’t be following as disciples of Jesus. With love and concern in our hearts, part of the Jesus movement is certainly to help guide each other in our behaviors so that we aren’t harming ourselves and others.
That’s very different, however, from looking at someone else and saying, “He shouldn’t be doing that; he’s a Christian.” As my neighbor said to this co-worker, “You don’t need to be judging him; you need to take a look at the log in your own eye before noticing the speck in someone else’s.” The co-worker needed to be living with grace. There seemed to be behind the co-worker’s statement an “or else.” “He shouldn’t be doing that; he’s a Christian.” He better shape up or else…he’s not really a Christian, or else…Jesus will reject him, or else…who knows what? There was an implication that the he wasn’t really a Christian because he wasn’t following a certain list of behaviors well enough, as if following a certain list of behaviors well enough is what makes us Christian.
Good moral teaching is absolutely a part of being a disciple of Jesus, but the point of Christianity, the message of the Jesus movement, is not “behave.” We don’t need Jesus for that. The point of the Christianity, the message of the Jesus movement, is grace. Being a Christian is receiving and giving the grace of Jesus.
The grace of Jesus doesn’t say, “Behave or else.” The grace of Jesus says love God, love others, love yourself, and let your actions be guided out of that love. The grace of Jesus says you’re going to mess up a lot, and when you do, I’m going to forgive you. The grace of Jesus sees that those who cause harm do so because harm has been caused to them, or because they are afraid, or because they think they are right. The grace of Jesus looks at that and says “forgiven.” That is life in the Jesus movement.
The Jesus movement says, “You think you’re not good enough, well join the club!” We’re none of us good enough and we don’t have to be, because what we are is enough. The disciples denied and abandoned Jesus when he was about to be killed. Then when he was resurrected, they were so steadfast in their discipleship, they said, “Well, I guess we’ll go fishing.” The disciples weren’t good enough, and yet they were enough for the grace of Jesus.
They were enough for Jesus to say, “Feed my sheep.” Saul certainly wasn’t good enough as he was persecuting the church, and yet he was enough for the grace of Jesus to transform him into one who would grow his kingdom not by conquering, but by teaching, healing, caring for people, and sharing grace. That’s life in the Jesus movement. That’s the life that we get to live as the Body of Christ, sharing and receiving and giving grace. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 2nd Easter, Year C April 3, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX John 20:19-31
Obeying God: The Laws of Love and Grace
“We must obey God rather than any human authority.” That was Peter’s response to the high priest of Israel telling them to stop preaching and teaching about Jesus. Peter’s response claimed that the high priest had no real authority, certainly no authority given by God, but that the high priest was simply part of a human institution, a rather bold claim from a fisherman whose Rabbi had been condemned as a heretic by Israel crucified by Rome. Then again, Jesus did tend to bring out some audaciousness in people. I suppose being resurrected tends to do that.
When Jesus first met with his disciples, they had locked the door to the room they were in because they were afraid of most of Israel which had not come to follow Jesus. Their plan was to duck and cover, hide until the heat went down and folks had basically forgotten about Jesus. Then, Jesus was resurrected and appeared to them. He gave them the Holy Spirit, just as he had been given the Holy Spirit after his baptism. It was time for them to stop hiding and go to work, spreading the news of Jesus, his kingdom, his love, and his grace.
Jesus’ resurrection gave the disciples boldness to follow him and obey him in ways they hadn’t been able or willing to before. There they were, in front of the high priest, being told to stop their preaching, and they were flatly defying him, telling him they had to obey God rather than the high priest. Last time someone had done that, they’d sent him to Rome to be crucified, but as Peter well knew, the death they gave to Jesus, didn’t really take, so Peter boldly declared that he would be obeying God, thank you very much.
Obedience to God and the trust that comes along with it is rather central to our faith. When asked in baptism, “Will you promise to follow and obey him as your Lord,” we say, “I will.” Obedience to God and following in his ways is central to scripture. Consider Psalm 119:33-35: Teach me, O Lord, the way of your statutes, and I will observe it to the end. Give me understanding, that I may keep your law and observe it with my whole heart. Lead me in the path of your commandments, for I delight in it. Obedience to God, following in his ways and keeping his commandments is not just described as something that must be done; obedience to God is described as a delight, the longing of our souls, and a way which gives us life.
That is they way and the joy which Jesus’ disciples were following when Peter told the high priest they had to obey God, rather than him.
Of course, the high priest was trying to follow in God’s ways too.
Obedience to God, or to anything for that matter, can be a joy partially because obedience can simplify life a bit. Should I do this or that? Well, following God’s ways, you should do that. Ok, done. Don’t have to think too much about it, don’t have to get too caught up in the subtleties and nuance of the situation. Simply follow and obey. Such simple obedience can be a wonderful shelter in a crazy, complex, and frighteningly ambiguous world. We have to be cautious, however, that such simple obedience to God’s ways does not lead to harsh observance and strict enforcement of his laws. Such is the problem with many radicalized groups who become so zealous for their understanding of God’s way that they end up harming others in God’s name.
Harsh observance and strict enforcement of God’s laws was how the chief priests and Pharisees lived in Jesus’ day, ultimately leading to Jesus’ death. Harsh observance and strict enforcement of God’s laws was where Saul found himself when he was persecuting the early church. Harsh observance and strict enforcement of God’s laws is how radical Muslims live, although they largely misinterpret or willfully misrepresent even Islam’s understanding of God’s laws.
We want certainty in an uncertain world, and so we can end up zealously following God’s laws in ways that end up harming others. In the movie Choclat, the mayor of a small town is ardent and zealous in his observance of the ways of the church, as is the town under his watchful eye. They mayor even rewrites the priests sermons for him when he feels the priest isn’t being zealous enough. You could describe the town as over-churched and under-graced.
As the movie opens, the town is beginning their observance of Lent, and at the same time, a woman moves into town and opens up a chocolate shop. This does not sit well with the mayor at all. It is brazen and quite unseemly to tempt people out of their Lenten fasts with chocolates and sweets. Even worse, the woman has a daughter born out of wedlock and she is not a Christian. So, the mayor begins a harsh campaign against this woman and her shop, despite the fact that she is bringing a huge amount of healing to the community and the strained or dying relationships between many people living there.
They mayor was so zealous in his desire to follow God’s laws that he became a tyrant, and there was certainly no joy in his observance of God’s laws. He was kinda miserable, because he was trying to follow God’s laws, but he was doing so without the laws of love and grace.
Faith, hope and love, or even faithfulness, hope and love, abide, and the greatest of these is love. The law of love would keep us from harming others despite how zealous we become for God’s ways. The law of love reminds us that obedience to God’s ways is meant to give us life. The law of grace reminds us to be gentle, understanding, and forgiving in how we live out our obedience to God’s laws. The laws of love and grace allow us to obey God’s laws with joy.
Without love and grace, it is little wonder that we often become ardent in our adherence to part’s of God’s law. God’s laws and God’s ways give us grounding and some certainty in an uncertain world. If we feel God’s laws are being threatened, then some of our stability and certainty is being threatened. The world is suddenly dangerous and frightening again.
That is when we remember God’s law of love and grace, and we put our trust in Jesus’ resurrection. Like Peter, trusting in Jesus’ resurrection, we can follow Jesus’ ways without being afraid of those who don’t. We’re going to follow in Jesus’ ways and not be threatened by those who follow Jesus a little differently that we do. We seek to follow in Jesus’ ways, and we take delight in obeying God’s laws. We give up some of our freedom and find ourselves set free in following God’s ways. Ask the addict who had been free to use whatever he was addicted to and then gave up that freedom to obey the ways of God. Doing so set that person free from the bondage of addiction. Obeying God’s ways sets us free from any number of chains, that freedom gives us great joy.
Jesus’ resurrection gives us freedom to obey God despite opposition from the world around us. Jesus’ resurrection tells us to fear not when others don’t follow in his ways, because our lives are his, and he will keep us in this life and in the next. Jesus’ resurrection allows us to obey God and to live out the laws of love and grace. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Easter Sunday, Year C March 27, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX John 20:1-18
The New Garden
Mary thought Jesus was the gardener. As she was weeping outside Jesus empty tomb, wondering who had stolen Jesus’ body, she turned, and Jesus was there, having been raised from the dead, and she thought he was the gardener, and so he was. Jesus was the one who made the very first garden in Eden, and so standing in this new garden of Jesus’ resurrection, Mary is the first one to see and experience the resurrection life. Jesus calls Mary by name, and then she knows him, and she clings to him, her heart full of love and joy at seeing Jesus before her, standing with her in the rebirth of creation.
Then, Jesus tells her to go to his disciples and tell them that he has been raised, “do not cling to me,” Jesus says, and as much as Mary wants to stay, to hold on to Jesus forever, she trusts him. She lets go, and she goes to the disciples to tell them the good news that Jesus has been raised. This new Eve in the new garden trust in Jesus, and we see the effects of resurrection immediately taking place. The serpents’ whispers to stay or she will never see him again fall on deaf ears, and she trusts in Jesus.
Of course we still mess up, don’t we? There is still sin in the world. There are still countless ways that we harm each other, countless ways that we separate ourselves from each other and separate ourselves from God, which is why Jesus joined himself to us and took all of our sins upon himself on the cross. We sin and we die, so Jesus took all of our sin and death and joined it to himself.
In the incarnation, becoming human, God joined himself fully to humanity in Jesus. That was the point, to restore us to unity with God. If we’re going to be fully restored to God, then we must be restored to God even in death, and if we’re going to be fully restored to God, then we have to be restored to God even in sin. I supposed Jesus could have suddenly started sinning, God sinning against humanity in order to join with us even in ways that we harm each other, fracture our relationships, and separate ourselves from God and each other, but he didn’t. God loves us too much suddenly to decide to sin against us, and we’ve got more than enough sin and harm to go around, so Jesus took our sins upon himself on the cross so that even our disconnection from God has been united to God.
On the cross, Jesus took all of the ways that we harm each other and disconnect ourselves from each other and from God, Jesus took all of that, and united himself to it, so that even at our worst, we can still be united to God. Those who have murdered people and raped people, those who have abused their bodies with drugs and harmed other people with drugs, those whose hearts are hardened by unforgiveness and those whose hearts are broken by shame, even those who kill themselves and others in acts of terrorism: all of their sins were united to Jesus on the cross. All of our sins were united to Jesus on the cross.
Having taken our worst upon himself, Jesus died to unite us to God even in death, and then he was raised so that we get to be united to God in new life.
That new life began on this day almost 2000 years ago as Mary stood with Jesus in the new garden. Jesus, the new Adam trusted in God with his life and death, and Mary, a second Eve, standing there in the garden, trusted in Jesus. In the resurrection, the world is changed, and we are changed.
In the resurrection, in the new garden, we are given grace upon grace. Nadia Bolz-Weber is a Lutheran pastor who as a young woman had been addicted to drugs and alcohol. She cared deeply about people and had grown up in a church (rules) – ended up breaking free from those constraints and into drugs and alcohol. She was trapped.
She then went on a date with a guy named Matthew (whom she later married), and Matthew happened to be a Lutheran seminary student who had the same passion for community and caring for those in need as she did. Reluctantly she went with him to a Lutheran church, and she loved the liturgy. She called it “choreographed sacredness,” she called it. “It felt like a gift that had been caretaken by generations of the faithful and handed to us to live out and caretake and hand off.” That sounds like the Episcopal Church, doesn’t it?
Grace, however, was the key for her conversion. She hadn’t learned about grace in the church where she grew up. There she had mostly learned a bunch of rules she had to follow lest Jesus be angry with her. “But I did learn about grace,” she said, “from sober drunks who managed to stop drinking by giving their will over to the care of God and who then tried like hell to live a life according to spiritual principles.” In the Lutheran church (like the Episcopal Church), she found the centrality of grace.
Nadia found resurrection – new life, restoration, and reconciliation. The resurrection of Jesus in the new garden, lived out in a community of grace. She’s one of countless people whose lives have been transformed by Jesus’ resurrection. She didn’t turn her life around and then come to Jesus. She came to Jesus as she was, and he loved her as she was, and then gave her grace and offered her a new life trusting him, doing her darnedest to follow in his ways, and accepting his grace when she messed up. That’s life in the new garden.
In the new garden, we don’t hide behind fig leaves. In the new garden of Jesus’ resurrection, we walk with Jesus as we are and we allow his grace to heal us. In the new garden of Jesus resurrection, we follow Jesus, we trust in him, we follow where he leads, and we receive grace when we don’t follow all that well. Out of the depths of despair, sitting beside whatever tomb we have made, we see Jesus who calls us to him by name, who holds us, gives us grace and new life in his new garden. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Easter Vigil, Year C March 26, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Romans 6:3-11 Luke 24:1-12
Baptized Into Jesus’ Death
Alleluia, Christ is risen! Gosh that feels good to say. We get to revel in the glory of Jesus’ resurrection again. I know we still have been throughout Lent, but our focus was more on our shortcomings and failings and the reasons for Jesus suffering and death. Now, our focus is more squarely on Jesus and his resurrection, the effects of his suffering and death. Those effects are life, restoration, and reconciliation for all.
Why did Jesus have to die? We get questions like these from kids, from adults, from Christians and from non-Christians. We often say, “to pay for our sins,” and that is true, but it also leads to questions about why, if God is so forgiving, did God not just forgive us outright? Why take the penalty on himself? There are a variety of answers posed: to satisfy God’s justice, to satisfy God’s vengeance, simply because it just doesn’t seem right not to have someone pay the penalty. All valid and possibly true answers, but let’s look at Jesus’ death from the standpoint of his life and incarnation. Why did Jesus have to die? Because we die.
In the incarnation, God joined himself fully to humanity in Jesus. That was the point, to restore us to unity with God. If we’re going to be fully restored to God, then we must be restored to God even in death, and if we’re going to be fully restored to God, then we have to be restored to God even in sin. I supposed Jesus could have suddenly started sinning, God sinning against humanity in order to join with us even in ways that we harm each other, fracture our relationships, and separate ourselves from God and each other, but he didn’t. God loves us too much suddenly to decide to sin against us, and we’ve got more than enough sin and harm to go around, so Jesus took our sins upon himself on the cross so that even our disconnection from God has been united to God.
On the cross, Jesus took all of the ways that we harm each other and disconnect ourselves from each other and from God, Jesus took all of that, and united himself to it, so that even at our worst, we can still be united to God. Those who have murdered people and raped people, those who have abused their bodies with drugs and harmed other people with drugs, those whose hearts are hardened by unforgiveness and those whose hearts are broken by shame, even those who kill themselves and others in acts of terrorism: all of their sins were united to Jesus on the cross. All of our sins were united to Jesus on the cross.
That’s why Jesus had to die, to unite us to God in life, in sin, and in death.
Then, Jesus was resurrected. Jesus defeated death and rose again from the dead to eternal life. Jesus was and is still united to humanity in his resurrection, so in Jesus life, death, and resurrection, we are united to God in life, sin, death, and in eternal life after death. Death has been transformed into a vehicle from life to life eternal. That is why Jesus had to die, so that we could live. Even at our darkest moments, in the pit of despair, at the bottom of the sea of silence, in the suffering of sin and the finality of death, Jesus is there saying, “come with me, for our life together is not over. Come with me into the light, and share with me in life everlasting.” Amen.
Brad Sullivan Good Friday, Year C March 25, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX John 18:1-19:42
Braving the Tranquil Sea of Silence
Silence. That what is called for often in our liturgy, silence. Silence can be the sound of prayer, the sound of relaxing and taking a break for a while. After a long day and once the kids are to bed and before binge watching Netflix or reading starts, it can be very healing to sit in silence for a few minutes. Silence gives our brains time to unwind. Silence allows us to notice our breathing and to marvel at the miracle of our lives, our bodies, the presence of God around us and within us. Silence can be the sound and the sounds of life without the noise of everything else.
Silence can be a beautiful thing. Silence can also bring to the surface things we’d rather keep buried. Silence brings a void, and inevitably something will come to fill that void, often the memories we’d rather than deal with, the decisions which haunt us, the scars left by others. In the tranquil sea of silence we see peace and beauty, but with pain and death lurking just beneath the surface.
Perhaps that is why silence is so rarely sought. Silence beckons to us, invites us to sail upon her waters, and yet we often dare not even approach the shore for fear of what may come forth, and so we draw back from the tranquil sea, retreating once again into the forest of voices and noise, hiding in the din of life, hiding from the truth that would otherwise rend our hearts.
As Simon and Garfunkel wrote in The Sound of Silence: And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more. People talking without speaking, People hearing without listening, People writing songs that voices never share And no one dared Disturb the sound of silence.
Silence is the sound of death. Silence was the sound of Jesus tomb cut out of the rock. Silence was the sound of Jesus’ body without the movement of breath, without the flow of blood, without the beating of his heart. Silence was the only sound that was left when the sins of all humanity were poured out upon Jesus. The author of life had been killed, taking upon himself the judgment due to all of humanity, and the Word of God which spoke the words “Let there be light,” in the beginning of creation was left was left in silence.
As humanity ran back into the forest of noise and distraction, Jesus sailed the sea of silence and then left the boat, only this time he did not walk on the sea, he sank down, swallowed up by all that lay beneath, and left the sea tranquil and calm as before. We know that Jesus was resurrected a few short days after his death. We know that Jesus left the sea of silence, and yet, Jesus is still there, along with all of sins of humanity, the memories we’d rather than deal with, the decisions which haunt us, the scars left by others. Jesus is there in the silence inviting us to face what we’d rather not face, inviting us to look into the face of the demons within.
Jesus is inviting us to trust him, to follow him into the silence, to join with him there in the silence of his tomb, and to trust that he will bring us out with him as well, giving us new life with him. First, however, we have to face the silence of his tomb. We have to brave the waters of that tranquil sea and to face what lurks beneath. We have to go down into the sea of silence. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Holy Monday, Year C March 21, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX John 12:1-11
This Won’t Do (things we need to let die)
In the sardonic, silly, and hilarious series of books, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams, wrote a science fiction tale beginning on Earth which was quickly demolished to make way for an interstellar highway. The one survivor from earth is then taken on a journey across time and space to the far reaches of the universes, and much hilarity ensues. On one of the fictional planets Douglas Adams describes, the people were peaceful and loving, until the fateful day in which a spaceship from another world crash landed onto their planet. Until this moment, they had no idea there were any other planets or stars for that matter. Their atmosphere was surrounded by a cloud of dust which blocked from view any other stars or celestial bodies. The spaceship punched a hole in their dust cloud, and for the first time, they saw the stars and the enormity of space beyond them.
Upon discovering that they were not alone in all of creation, they, as a people, uttered three words. “This won’t do.” Their understanding of life, the universe, and everything, had been irrevocably altered, and so they decided to annihilate the entire universe. They eventually failed, but not before unleashing unimaginable carnage to the universe in an enormous intra-galactic war. Did I mention these books were comedy and rather sardonic. The people of this planet chose to destroy the truth rather than let die their old understanding and allow the truth to change them.
That sounds a bit like the chief priests’ reaction to Jesus. Here Jesus was raising people from the dead, claiming things about himself and about God that didn’t mesh with their understanding of Judaism or their understanding of God, and rather than learn from Jesus or at least leave him be, they decided to kill not only him, but evidence of his good deeds, plotting to kill Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Their universe had changed and they looked at one another and said, “This won’t do.”
To be fair, they weren’t trying to kill God. They didn’t know or believe that Jesus was God, but had they believed, I wonder how different their reaction would have been. Possibly not murderous, but still at least profoundly argumentative.
Jesus was God incarnate. For millennia, the people of Israel had wondered and marveled at the mystery of God. They had the words of scripture to describe God and the way of life given in Torah for them to live out God’s ways, and yet, they saw in a mirror dimly.
Suddenly, God was a human being, living out a human life, and that human life often didn’t jive with what they believed God to be, nor did Jesus jive with what they believed they were supposed to be. Jesus simply wouldn’t do.
Jesus has a way of bringing about such a reaction, to think, “This just won’t do.” Even for those of us, who have known Jesus and believe him to be both God and human, we often look at his life and teachings and compare them to our own lives and think, “this won’t do.” Just as the chief priests, we too see in a mirror dimly, Jesus challenges us time after time about who God is and who we are.
We have various ideas about what it means to be a man or be a woman in this country. There are a variety of proofs of what it means to be a man, many of them centering about strength, physical prowess, control, or even mental acuity and accomplishment of something great. Likewise, there are a variety of proofs of what it means to be a woman, having to do with femininity, attractiveness, fertility, as well as physical prowess, and skill in just about everything.
None of us live up to these feminine and masculine ideals, not even those who seem to, and yet we often keep some measure of these ideas of what it means to be a man or a woman in our minds: thoughts of who and how we ought to be.
Then we look to Jesus, to God incarnate, who shows us what it means to be truly human, and he challenges most of our masculine and feminine ideas. Power? No, humility. Continual self-improvement? No, dying to self. Giving or getting what we deserve? No, grace and forgiveness.
When we truly look at Jesus, at God incarnate, at true humanity, and we compare him to who we are and how we want to be, we are continually called up short, and rather than let die that which needs to die within us, we often tacitly respond with, “This won’t do.” We then seek not to kill Jesus, but to dismiss that teaching of his or that aspect of who he is, and thereby, we seek kinda to kill Jesus rather than let die that part of us that doesn’t mesh with Jesus.
Thankfully, in the incarnation, Jesus not only showed who God truly is and who we truly are meant to be, Jesus took upon himself all of our failings. He united himself to us, not only as we are meant to be, but as we are. As Paul reminds us in Romans 8:38-39, “I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
That is the incarnation, the fact that nothing, nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord, not even our own desires to say, “This won’t do.” Jesus’ incarnation has united us to him forever, and that union with God is then constantly pulling us, not forward as we would think of it, not to be better or do more. Jesus’ incarnation is constantly pulling us toward the cross, leading us to let die those parts of us that need to die so that he can then reform us and remake us in his image, so that he can make us into true men, make us into true women. Jesus is like that spaceship from another world bursting through the cloud of dust that obscures our vision and understanding of ourselves and inviting us to the beauty of what lies beyond, the enormity and beauty of God’s love. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Palm Sunday, Year C March 20, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 19:28-40 Luke 22:14-23:56
The Hope of the Gospel Is in the Pit of Despair
Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem has got to be the most disappointing political campaign rally in history. Today, we got to hear the good part about him riding in on a donkey and the people putting palm branches down for him and shouting, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.” The people all had their “Jesus for President 033” signs. The place was littered with “Make Israel Great Again” posters, and the crowd was in a frenzy, waiting to hear what Jesus would say on this last stop on his campaign before taking over Jerusalem and then marching on Rome and kicking those guys out.
It seemed to be glory upon glory as Jesus rode into Jerusalem, and yet the people’s hopes were disappointed. What we didn’t hear in the story today is that Jesus rides a little further and begins weeping for Jerusalem. “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side.”
Jesus gave no victory speech. He did not thank his supporters. Other than a weeping lament, Jesus didn’t respond at all to the huge campaign rally. Once he got to Jerusalem, Jesus went into the temple and made people upset by driving out the money changers and the animals. The crowd who had gathered to hear Jesus speak to them looked at one another and said, “That was weird.” “Yeah, and kinda lame.” They were disappointed. The great hope they had in Jesus had not been realized. Their disillusionment in Jesus began. Their hearts began to turn against Jesus even as Jesus’ life began careening headlong toward the cross.
The hope of the Gospel was not to be found in the in the glory of Jesus’ march on Jerusalem. His ride into town did not lead to glory but to the cross.
It’s ironic today that the cross is so prevalent as a symbol of our faith. We’ve got it on jewelry, on our hand, around our necks; people have crosses tattooed to them; crosses adorn our houses, some of our businesses. We see crosses everywhere. We see crosses as a symbol of hope, and yet we often forget why the cross is a symbol of hope.
We remember Jesus when we see a cross, I know, but at the same time, we are a society that is rather pain and suffering averse. There are huge industries of anti-aging products and procedures as we try to fool ourselves into thinking that we’re not going to die. The stories we tell of ourselves via Facebook and selfies are carefully curated to present glowing, positive images. After hard days, we often self medicate, even with just one or two drinks to take the edge off, and who can blame us? No one likes suffering and death, which is why our cross adorned lives are so ironic. The cross is a symbol of suffering and death. The empty cross has come to be a symbol of resurrection, but it is first a symbol of suffering and death. Our faith in Jesus doesn’t let us avoid suffering and death. Resurrection only comes after suffering and death. Carrying crosses around reminds us that the hope of the Gospel is found in the pit of despair.
The hope of the Gospel is found in the pit of despair, and that is very good news, because as much as our society is averse to suffering and death, we’ve pretty much struck out in avoiding suffering and death. Any preacher who says you can avoid suffering by following Jesus, wasn’t listening to Jesus. Jesus promised his disciples that suffering would happen. It’s something of a relief to realize we’re not supposed to avoid suffering. We’re not going to avoid suffering. We haven’t failed as a disciple of Jesus because we suffer. Suffering and sadness has happened and will happen to every one of us, and it is not because we’re following Jesus wrong or because our faith isn’t strong enough. We can’t avoid suffering. We move through suffering. We can’t avoid the cross. Jesus tells us to take up our cross. For the hope of the Gospel is found in the pit of despair.
Only in the pit of despair are we truly able to let ourselves die. “Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it.” (Luke 17:33) There are parts of us which we need to let die, in order for God to give us new life. Often our carefully constructed and cultivated identities, the very parts of us which we’ve formed to try to avoid suffering, are the very parts of us which we need to let die so that God can work his resurrection within us.
We don’t get to that point through the glory of accolades and praise. We only come to resurrection through the agony of the cross. “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus,” Paul said, “were baptized into his death?... if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” (Romans 6:3, 5)
Our hope is in resurrection, in new life, but we can’t bring about new life. Not even Jesus made himself resurrected. He didn’t snap his fingers and skip over death into new life. Jesus marched toward the cross. He did not avoid suffering. Jesus climbed down into the pit of despair with us. He didn’t give us a way out. He gave us a way through. As Winston Churchill said, “if you’re going through hell, keep going.”
The suffering of the cross is where our hope is to be found. No one wants suffering. We’d be fools to pray for suffering, but suffering will find us. That is where we will find the hope of the Gospel, not in our own strength, but when our strength has failed us. In the darkness of the pit of despair is where we see the light of Jesus most clearly. In the darkness of the pit of despair, we see the light of Jesus, leading us onward through the darkness, through the death of our selves, and into the light of his resurrection. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 5 Lent, Year C March 13, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Philippians 3:4b-14 John 12:1-8
No Price Tag on a Community of Grace
As Mary was anointing Jesus with costly perfume, Judas was complaining that she was wasting the perfume, that instead it should have been sold, and the money given to the poor. Ok, he’s got a fair point, one which would have been better taken if he hadn’t been lying and stealing money from the common purse. The perfume cost 300 denarii, that’s almost a year’s worth of wages. In modern terms, let’s call it $50,000 worth of perfume that Mary poured onto Jesus’ feet. That certainly does seem extravagant. $50,000 could have gone a long way to helping out those in need. In the three other Gospels, Jesus even teaches to do just that.
In Matthew 19, Mark 10, Luke 18, there was a young man who asked Jesus what he had to do to inherit eternal life, and as the man had many possessions, Jesus said, “Go, sell your possessions and give the money to the poor, then come, and follow me.” Here, Judas is saying that Mary should have done exactly what Jesus taught this young man in the other three gospels, and Jesus says – “No, leave her alone. You will always have the poor with you; you will not always have me. Mary has done right, being with me here now, using this perfume for my burial.”
Savor this time you’ve got with me, Jesus was saying, because I’m going to be crucified pretty soon. “Slow down little sheep,” Jesus was saying. You should indeed serve those in need. Of course you should. If you’re not serving those in need, you’re missing out on a big part of what it is to be the church, but don’t become so consumed with serving others that you neglect the love of those with whom you are serving.”
The need and the desire to serve those in need has been something I’ve talked about a lot at St. Mark’s. I’ve focused a lot of my thought, study, and prayer to ways we can serve. So, as I hear today’s Gospel, I hear Jesus speaking to me saying, “Slow down little sheep. You should indeed serve those in need, but don’t become so consumed with serving others that you neglect the love of those with whom you are serving.”
Look around you. I know you know who is there, but take a look again anyway. We’ve got a great church here, a church of wonderful people. We do indeed have a mission to serve others. We also have a mission to love each other deeply. We have a mission to appreciate one another.
We always have people whom we can and should serve, and we should serve them. Our service is made greater, however, when it comes not just from ourselves, not only from a compassionate desire to serve others, but when our service also comes from people who love each other and love spending time together.
In the Gospel story today, Jesus and his friends were having a meal together. Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, a family who loved Jesus, invited him over for dinner. They took them time to spend time with those they loved. As the church, at St. Mark’s, we’re called to give each other our time as well, to spend time together with those whom we love, and those whom we have a hard time loving, because both are part of our beloved family. We always have people whom we can serve. We don’t always have each other.
Right now, our vestry is working on maintenance and restoration of our church building. Last Wednesday, we met with Bob Schorr, the diocesan Manager of Church Plants and Strategic Development. We walked through our campus seeing what needed to be done, and dreaming about what could be done to restore and improve our church campus for us and for the next many generations. Our vestry is going to be working hard over the coming months to develop a plan for this work, and I encourage us all to pray for our vestry and the work they have been given for this church and for our campus.
During this same time, in these next two weeks of Lent and in the Easter season that follows, I invite us also to work on restoration and improvement of our relationships. I’ve heard it said over and over that St. Mark’s is a place where the people obviously love each other. That’s true. There are of course conflicts and strained relationships. We’re a family, that’s going to happen. We are above all, though, a family that loves each other and that cares for each other.
We’re a family who really understands what Mary did in our Gospel passage. We may not wipe each others’ feet with our hair, but we understand the time and the cost that Mary took to care for Jesus. We get that because we’re a family that cares for each other. So I encourage us to keep nurturing that love we have for each other, because here, and in our relationships here, we find more than service. We find Jesus, and having this community where we can love each other and encounter Jesus in each other is far more precious than $50,000 of costly perfume. This week, I got to remember how precious this community is. This week, we all get to remember.
This week, we hear Jesus saying to us, “Slow down little sheep. You should indeed serve those in need, but don’t become so consumed with serving others, that you neglect the love of those with whom you are serving.” Spend your money and your time with each other and on each other. When we are here and with each other, we encounter Jesus. When we are here and with each other, we experience grace. We love each other imperfectly and letting each other down sometimes too, but then, that’s what grace is all about, isn’t it.
$50,000 worth of perfume? That’s a lot of money that could have been spend on those in need. A community of grace, where we love one another imperfectly and encounter Jesus with and among each other? You can’t put a price tag on that. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 4 Lent, Year C March 6, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX 2 Corinthians 5:16-21 Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
The Parable of the Extravagantly Forgiving Father
Everyone needs forgiveness. We need to give forgiveness, we need to receive forgiveness. We need the grace and healing that comes with forgiveness. That’s because we all have scars and wounds inflicted upon us over the course of our lives, and we are also all the cause of other peoples’ scars and wounds. As much as we need food, water, and air, we are starving and suffocating without forgiveness. Without forgiveness, our past wounds keep on hurting us over and over, and they keep us from living the life of God’s kingdom. Everyone needs forgiveness. That’s why God gives forgiveness so extravagantly.
We call the parable which we heard today, “The Prodigal Son,” or the wasteful son. He spent his inheritance wastefully and extravagantly and then came back to his father, penniless and starving, begging for his father to let him work as one of his servants. The father ran out to him, having already forgiven him, and restored him, not as a servant, but as a son, and he threw a huge party in celebration that his son was back, essentially back from the dead.
So, the title “the prodigal son” makes some sense, although, “the extravagantly forgiving father” might be a better title. Calling the story “the prodigal son,” however, ignores the other brother, the one who stayed with his dad, helped around the house, and then was indignant when his brother came home and was given a party. That, and the anger he had? Totally understandable. It wasn’t fair, he was basically saying, and he was right. It wasn’t fair. Of course he was angry, and forgiveness isn’t about being fair. Forgiveness is about what we need.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu wrote a book on forgiveness which came out of the process of healing and the choice of forgiveness after apartheid in South Africa. He begins the book with a story of a woman and her daughter whose husband and father had been tortured, beaten, stabbed, dismembered, and killed. They were speaking to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission about the murder of their husband and father during apartheid in South Africa. They ended by saying, “I would love to know who killed my father. We want to forgive them. We want to forgive, but we don’t know who to forgive.”
The perpetrators of this crime didn’t deserve forgiveness, but they needed it, wherever they were. The mother and daughter, also needed forgiveness. They had a need to give forgiveness. That was their desire. Archbishop Tutu wrote about them in his book, The Book of Forgiving: The Fourfold Path for Healing Ourselves and Our World. He wrote about the need we have to be forgiven and the need we have to forgive. He writes: To forgive is not just to be altruistic. It is the best form of self-interest. It is also a process that does not exclude hatred and anger. These emotions are all part of being human. You should never hate yourself for hating others who do terrible things: The depth of your love is shown by the extent of your anger. However, when I talk of forgiveness, I mean the belief that you can come out the other side a better person. A better person than the one being consumed by anger and hatred. Remaining in that state locks you in a state of victimhood, making you almost dependent on the perpetrator. If you can find it in yourself to forgive, then you are no longer chained to the perpetrator. You can move on, and you can even help the perpetrator to become a better person, too.
The brother in Jesus’ parable had a need to forgive. After rumbling with his anger and resentment for a while, he needed to release those emotions and forgive his brother so that he was no longer consumed by the anger and resentment, so that he was no longer hurting himself. Forgiveness is the key to the parable Jesus told: Our need for forgiveness, our need both to give and to receive forgiveness. The parable really should be called the parable of the extravagantly forgiving father. Then the focus is not on how we mess up, but the focus is on who God is, our extravagantly forgiving Father. How beloved are we of God that he forgives us so extravagantly?
All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, (1 Corinthians 5:18-20)
God knows that we only hurt because we have been hurt. We only break others only because we have been broken. As Archbishop Tutu writes: People are not born hating each other and wishing to cause harm. It is a learned condition. Children do not dream of growing up to be rapists or murderers, and yet ever rapist and ever murderer was once a child…Forgiveness is truly the grace by which we enable another person to get up, and get up with dignity, to begin anew.
So, God has given us forgiveness and reconciliation to him, and then he has granted us to be his ambassadors that we might give forgiveness and reconciliation as extravagantly as he. Our ambassadorship is not easy, of course, because forgiveness is not easy. It was not easy for God to forgive and to reconcile the world to him. We hear time and again about God’s vengeance and his wrath. You can bet our sins anger God.
Just as with our rumbling with our anger and resentment, God was angry at humanity for the harm we cause each other. Rather than exact vengeance on humanity, however, God took that anger and vengeance upon himself, becoming human, becoming Jesus, and suffering himself, suffering his own anger and vengeance on the cross. God’s forgiveness of us was not easy, but it was and is extravagantly given.
The anger and resentment we feel when we have been hurt is, like God’s anger and resentment, understandable and justified. We need, however, to rumble with it and eventually to release it so that it no longer poisons us. Such is our need for forgiveness, both to give and receive forgiveness. And so we are ambassadors for Christ, constantly working to give and receive forgiveness, and constantly telling others of the extravagant forgiveness God has given us through Jesus, and of the healing that comes through forgiveness and reconciliation. Such healing is not easy, because forgiveness is not easy. We see in the cross of Jesus the difficulty of forgiveness, and whenever we forgive something in us has to die in order for that forgiveness and new life to happen. Forgiveness is not easy, but it is needed, for restoration, for resurrection, for healing and new life. And we are ambassadors of Christ in his extravagant gift of healing through forgiveness. So I leave us with this prayer from Archbishop Tutu, called “The Prayer Before the Prayer.” I want to be willing to forgive But I dare not ask for the will to forgive In case you give it to me And I am not yet ready I am not yet ready for my heart to soften I am not yet ready to be vulnerable again Not yet ready to see that there is humanity in my tormentor’s eyes Or that the one who hurt me may also have cried I am not yet ready for the journey I am not yet interested in the path I am at the prayer before the prayer of forgiveness Grant me the will to want to forgive Grant it to me not yet but soon.
Can I even form the words Forgive me? Dare I even look? Do I dare to see the hurt I have caused? I can glimpse all the shattered pieces of that fragile thing That soul trying to rise on the broken wings of hope But only out of the corner of my eye I am afraid of it And if I am afraid to see How can I not be afraid to say Forgive me?
Is there a place where we can meet? You and me The place in the middle The no man’s land Where we straddle the lines Where you are right And I am right too And both of us are wrong and wronged Can we meet there? And look for the place where the path begins The path that ends when we forgive. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 3 Lent, Year C February 28, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 13:1-9
Changing the Narrative
- Did you hear about those poor Galileans whom Pilate killed?
- Oh that was awful. Pilate is a monster isn’t he.
- I hear he mixed their blood in with their sacrifices.
- What? That’s sacrilege!
- How would that even work?
- I don’t know. They must have been awful people though.
- That’s true, for God to have something like that happen to them. Oh hey Jesus, did you hear about those awful Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices? We don’t know exactly what the conversation was, but Jesus responded by asking them if they thought the Galileans whom Pilate killed were worse sinners than anyone else. By Jesus’ response and by what we know about how people tend to talk about things, we can guess that Jesus was spot on, and the conversation about the tragedy of the day was quickly turning into nasty stories about those awful Galileans and thanksgiving to God that the speakers were not like those awful Galileans. The people talking about the Galileans were trying to make sense of their world. They’d heard about this awful killing by Pilate. They were probably horrified, sad, frightened, and threatened all at once, and so their brains did what peoples’ brains do. They started making up stories to go along with what they had heard, to make sense of it. We do this all the time. Someone is very rude to us, and our brains immediately start making up stories about that person, about how they’re just a jerk, or about how they’ve got some misplaced grudge against us. In reality, the person who was rude was just having a bad day, and we met them in a bad moment, but we don’t know that story. We only know the stories our brains make up about what a perpetual jerk that person is. It doesn’t matter to our brains if the stories are true or not. Our brains are hardwired for story. Stories are how we make sense of our world, and when our brains make up these little stories, we get biochemically rewarded for having made sense of the world. It also helps that we usually make ourselves the heroes and others the villains in these stories, right? So that’s what the people talking about the dead Galileans were doing, and then Jesus did what he does so well. He said, “That’s not the right story, guys,” and he gave them a new story. “No, they weren’t worse sinners than anybody else. Tragic, unexpected death can happen to anyone at anytime.” “Well thanks a lot, Jesus.” Our brains hate that. Chaos, uncertainty, threats to our survival. Our brains want to rest easy, knowing that we’re going to be ok. Jesus keeps saying, “Guys, you can rest easy, knowing that you’re going to be ok, you just don’t get to do it by making up stories about how terrible everyone else is and about how righteous and therefore ‘God protected’ you are.” In Matthew 5:21-22, Jesus said, ‘You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, “You shall not murder”; and “whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.” But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, “You fool”, you will be liable to the hell of fire. We often devalue each other in order to make ourselves feel more secure, and Jesus says that when we do that, we are making ourselves less secure. We’re pouring God’s judgment upon ourselves whenever we hate another person. We’re pouring God’s judgment upon ourselves whenever we make up these stories in our own minds about how terrible someone else is. It seems crazy to us that just hating someone is tantamount to murder, but Jesus says it is. It makes sense that a murderer is deserving of death, but are we really deserving of death in God’s eyes just for hating each other? Well, yeah. Jesus is pointing out just how darn important we are to God. We are God’s children, the apple of God’s eye. So when we are hateful and hurtful to each other, yeah, it really upsets God. Imagine a parent whose child is being bullied so that they feel badly about themselves and withdrawing inward. Do you think that parent is going to be pretty hacked off at those other kids. That’s how God feels when he sees us hating and hurting each other. That’s how God feels when he sees us making up our stories about how others are the villains and we are the heroes. “Get the log out of your eye,” Jesus says. How can you say to your neighbor, “Friend, let me take out the speck in your eye”, when you yourself do not see the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye. (Luke 6:42) We’ll also see the other with compassion rather than self-righteous judgment, because when we take the log out of our own eye, when we see clearly our own mess, then we can see another’s mess with greater compassion. When we see ourselves clearly and accept our mess, then we are no longer threatened by someone else’s mess. Further, Jesus teaches, there is something greater than ourselves in which we can place our security. There is something greater than our own power and our own righteousness in which we can place our security. There is a greater story than the countless self-serving stories our brains make up. That something greater is our eternal, loving Father, and that greater story, is the Gospel story of love and creation, sin and redemption, second chances and reconciliation. That’s the story Jesus led the people to when he told them the parable of the fig tree. He first had to break them down and divest them of their false, self-serving narratives. Then, laid bare, empty, and not the least bit afraid, Jesus clothed them and filled them up with the true story of God’s love for us and his striving with us. In the parable Jesus told, there is the worthless fig tree which is taking up good soil and producing nothing, and the gardener says, “Give it another year. Let me work with it. Let me tend it and care for it. Let me give it even better soil, and we’ll see if it can then bear fruit.” Looking at the idea of the garden, where were we all planted? The Garden of Eden. The fig tree is humanity. Jesus is telling us that despite how often we give up on ourselves and how often we give up on each other, we’re in his garden, and he wants to keep striving with us. Does this mean, that once we accept Jesus, that bad things won’t happen to us, or we will be perfectly shielded from tragedy or unexpected death? No. Even while loving Jesus and loving each other, we can still die unexpectedly and suddenly. When people do, however, our brains don’t need to make up stories about how they must be bad and such tragedy can’t happen to us. Jesus has given us the true story, that when we die, either tragically and unexpectedly or at a ripe old age, we continue on living with the Gardener. We need not fear death because in death we are transformed from life to life. Accept and believe that story, Jesus says, and then let it be the story not only of your death, but of your life. Let yourselves trust in God enough that you no longer have to make up stories about each other when you harm one another, but instead, I was going to say “put manure around each other,” following the parable Jesus told, but that doesn’t quite seem to work. Jesus is saying that when you hurt one another, strive with each other. Offer to one another, the compassion and forgiveness that God has given to you. Rather than making up stories about one another, accept he story in which we are all deserving of death, because we all have hatred in our hearts, and accept the rest of that story in which God does not say condemned, but rather says, “forgiven,” the story in which God calls us beloved. Accept and live the story in which there is still uncertainty in the world, but that uncertainty spurns us on to greater love, greater forgiveness, greater urgency in our desire for reconciliation, because when we love one another as God loves us, we don’t want one more day to go by with the other still hurting. When we have enmity in our hearts toward someone and we’re living God’s story, then we don’t want one more day to go by without having embraced that person and offered and received forgiveness and love. Living God’s story, trusting in his story, and placing our security in his story, we change the narratives we make up about others, no longer making them villains, but calling them beloved and forgiven. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 2 Lent, Year C February 21, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 13:31-35
We’ll Live It Best We Can Anyway
I think we could classify today’s reading as an epic faith by the Pharisees, and a pretty darn good win by Jesus. The Pharisees were trying to get rid of Jesus, trying to make it look like they were on his side. “Herod’s trying to kill you, Jesus, you’ve got to get out of here. We’ve got your best interests at heart, and we need you to go so you don’t die.”
Of course they were lying. We know from Chapter Nine, that Herod was not trying to kill Jesus. He was actually pretty interested in who Jesus was. People were saying he was John the Baptist, and Herod was thinking, “I’m pretty darn sure I had John the Baptist beheaded not too long ago,” and he was curious about who Jesus was. Herod wasn’t a good guy, but he wasn’t trying to kill Jesus. Even when Jesus was going to be crucified, Herod didn’t have any burning desire to have Jesus killed. He said, “send him back to Pilate.” Again, Herod wasn’t a good guy, but he wasn’t trying to kill Jesus.
The Pharisees were lying because they wanted to get rid of Jesus. They were trying to frighten him away. Like the Devil before him, they were trying to deter Jesus from his mission. And Jesus had to have been thinking, “guys, I’m going to be crucified before too much longer, and your little death threat is supposed to frighten me? I’m going to be killed; it’s supposed to happen, just wait a little longer.”
So Jesus turns their failure into a chance for teaching once again. Jerusalem was supposed to be center stage for God’s glory in the world, not the place known for killing the prophets. The Temple was in Jerusalem. When Solomon dedicated the Temple, he said it was to be a place where all of Israel could look to and remember God’s glory, his love, his forgiveness and mercy. Nations were supposed to flock to Jerusalem, drawn there by the light of God lived out in Israel, and yet, Jesus told the Pharisees that Jerusalem was the place where the prophets were killed; he told his disciples that the Temple would not stand and all would be thrown down because of the ways it had been misused.
Despite the Pharisees scare tactics, Jesus remained undeterred from his mission. He named the truth, the darkness and said, “I will overcome it.”
We also have lots of opportunities to be overcome by darkness, to give in to fear or discouragement. I was giving into discouragement not long ago, and Bill Bullard sent me a text with words he had seen earlier which read: We profess a faith in God through whom all things are possible. When we apathetically accept the status quo, we implicitly demonstrate a lack of faith that tomorrow might be better than today. God should not be mocked in this way. Our faith should be much more steadfast. Those words cut me to the heart, and they also gave me hope, reminding me to trust in God through whom all things are possible. We had our vestry meeting yesterday, and we were talking about challenges facing the church and challenges in our lives, and we prayed together about these things, and then Debra said, “You know what, we also need to give thanks for all of the wonderful things in our lives and in our church. There is so much negativity out there that we need to remember and give thanks for our blessings. We need to be filled with that light and see that light, that we can be light bearers for others.” So we prayed together thanks for all of the light and the blessings in our lives and church as well.
It is easy to be overcome by the craziness of the world, to be deterred from God’s mission of reconciliation, from living as the light in our lives and in the life of the church. Bishop Doyle points out in his book, A Generous Community, that we live in a VUCA world. VUCA means “Volatile, Uncertain, Complex, & Ambiguous.
That pretty well sums up much of today’s world. There is so much change happening so quickly, that many places where we used to find sure footing are no longer places of certainty, or those places are no longer even here. We live in a volatile, uncertain, complex, and uncertain world, and it is easy for us to be discouraged by such a world. It is easy to listen to the lies of the Pharisees that all is going badly. The lies of the Pharisees saying things like “the church is dying,” or “things aren’t going to get any better.”
For the record, the church is not dying, and while there certainly is darkness in the world, there is also an immense amount of light. There are difficult times. There is uncertainty, and sometimes, things do go badly, but we are not to be discouraged by those difficulties. We are to trust in God, continue living his mission, and have faith that through him all things are possible.
That’s how Jesus lived when he taught his disciples when he told them not to worry, not to fear. When the Devil tried to get him to quit, when the Pharisees tried to frighten Jesus, he lived and taught that there are times of discouragement, and when they come, “we’ll live it best we can anyway.”
In teaching his disciples not to worry, he told them that for one thing, worrying isn’t going to do you any darn good. For another thing, worrying demonstrates a lack of faith in God. So, “do not be afraid little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the Kingdom.” In a volatile, uncertain, complex, and ambiguous world, “do not be afraid little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the Kingdom.” That’s what we’re striving for in our lives and in the church. We’re striving for God’s Kingdom, to fulfill God’s mission of reconciliation, and when we’re discouraged, we trust that God will fulfill our needs as we live out his mission.
At St. Mark’s right now, we’ve got a group that is gathering called, “New Wineskins.” We’re seeking to discover new ways that we will live out God’s mission both within the community of St. Mark’s and beyond. I again offer an open invitation to come on Sundays at noon. Come dream with us, pray with us, study God’s Word with us, and discern together the ways God would have us live out his mission in our lives and in our live together as Jesus’ Body at St. Mark’s. Some of these new ways are already happening with our Friday morning breakfasts at church. There are many people who won’t come to church, feeling sometimes like they can’t because of their sinfulness, feeling at other times like they won’t because of negative associations with the “institution” of the church. Folks will come, however, to breakfast here on Friday. While not part of the worshipping community, they are part of the community of people who meet weekly for a shared meal and fellowship in our parish hall.
New relationships and connections are being formed as we gather together, and divisions are ending. I have been invited to attend a Roman Catholic baptism next weekend at Our Lady of Guadalupe. There is no assumption that the Episcopal priest is going to become a Roman Catholic, nor is the family of the young man being baptized going to become Episcopalians. We’ve simply gotten to know each other, and we’ve prayed together, so that they’d like me to be there, to be a part of this young man’s baptism. You bet I’m going to be there.
There are plenty of ways to be discouraged in our volatile, uncertain, complex, and ambiguous world, but there is plenty of light out there and in here too. As a modern day prophet and singer/songwriter, Terri Hendrix, wrote in the song, Hey Now: Kiss the evening sky and say bye, bye, bye. Tomorrow knows no sorrow like today. And should it come to pass today’s no better than the last, We’ll live it best we can anyway.
We’ve all had highs, we’ve all had lows. It’s a fact of life that everybody knows. And should it come to pass today’s no better than the last, We’ll live it best we can anyway.
Despite all of the fear mongering of the Pharisees, the light of Jesus is thriving. The church is thriving. Despite times of discouragement, we’re going to continue on believing in Jesus. We’re going to continue on living out his mission. We’re going to continue on trusting in Jesus’ words, “Do not be afraid little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the Kingdom,” “and should it come to pass today’s no better than the last, we’ll live it best we can anyway.” Amen.
Brad Sullivan 1 Lent, Year C February 17, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 4:1-13
Endure, Master Wayne
In The Dark Night, the second in the most recent trilogy of Batman movies, Bruce Wayne was considering giving up being Batman. The Joker had the city of Gotham pretty well under siege, and he promised to stop if Batman would simply give up fighting and turn himself in to the authorities. As he was wondering what he should do, he had a conversation with Alfred who had raised him since he was a little boy. He said:
Bruce Wayne: People are dying, Alfred. What would you have me do?
Alfred Pennyworth: Endure, Master Wayne. Take it. They'll hate you for it, but that's the point of Batman, he can be the outcast. He can make the choice that no one else can make, the right choice. I have a feeling that fatherly, sage advice was similar to what God the Father might have been whispering to Jesus when he was in the wilderness being tempted by the Devil. In the second temptation of the Devil, Jesus was being given the opportunity to give up all that he was doing in order to fix everything. The Devil was offering to Jesus the glory and authority over all the kingdoms of the world. That had to be a tempting offer, and not just because Jesus wanted glory. Jesus had glory. He talked about returning in glory and the glory he had in the presence of God before the world existed. Jesus had glory coming out of every part of himself in the transfiguration. What Jesus didn’t have was obedience from everyone. Jesus didn’t have the ability to force his perfect will onto people. Jesus loved people and wanted them to believe in God and to live the ways of God’s kingdom. He wanted that so much that he died for it. He wanted that so much that when the Devil offered it to him, you know it had to be a tempting offer. You’ve got a long, hard mission ahead of you, Jesus. Preaching, teaching, healing, people loving you, using you, hating you; hypocrites, dust, beating, scorn, blood, pain, death, and all for what? So that people will still often choose not to live God’s kingdom? No, bow down to me, and I’ll give you the authority you need to complete your mission. No one else will even have to do anything. It’ll be done, here and now. Bow down to me and accomplish your sole purpose. That was tempting. Avoid pain and suffering, claim here on Earth the glory that is yours from the foundation of the world, and force people to obey you. Have power over people to make everything go the way you want it to go. No more getting frustrated at people’s poor choices. No more having to put up with others in authority choosing the wrong thing. No more enduring the short-sighted, wrong-thinking of well-intentioned idiots. You can be in charge and make every decision be the right decision. And Jesus said, “Thanks Devil guy. The offer is tempting, but I can’t force everyone to love God and each other by turning my back to God. As much as I’d like to make everyone do the right thing, that’s not the way the Father and I work. I have to suffer the pain of watching the ones I love make terrible choice after terrible choice. I have to love them enough to let them. I have to endure. I have to take it. I have to lead and teach and love even when I’m outcast and hated for it. I have to make the choice that no one else can make, the right choice. For us in the church recently, I’ve seen our church leaders more and more making the right choice. Looking at our politics and general way of society nowadays, division is the name of the game. We’re so afraid that the wrong people will end up getting their way, that we have become incredibly divided in our nation. I would argue that we have bowed down to the Devil, to Satan, the Adversary, the bringer of division. The polarized ends of our society have wanted to force the decisions go how they want them to, and to Hell with those wrong-minded people. While seeking to do good, the polarizing, demonizing, divisions in our society are bowing down to the Devil and bringing about so much harm. It is a temptation all of us fall prey to. All of us want to at some point bow down to the Devil that gives power so that we can have our way. That was the temptation of the Bishops of the Anglican Communion meeting in London about a month ago. They were meeting to determine, among other things, how the Anglican Communion could remain united amidst deep differences around issues of human sexuality, marriage, Biblical interpretation. Division was knocking at the door. The Devil was offering power to those threatened by the actions of the Episcopal Church. Kick them out. Excommunicate them. Make them leave the communion, and no longer be bothered by them. Well, contrary to what is printed in a lot of main stream papers, the Bishops did not choose to follow that offer made by the Devil. The Episcopal Church was not excommunicated. For three years, the Episcopal Church will likely have a diminished role in the councils of the Anglican Communion, but the Communion held. The bonds of affection which united us in Jesus held over the temptations of the Devil. We are still one in mission. We are still one in Jesus. The clergy and lay leaders of our diocese have faced a similar temptation as we have struggled together for the last four years over the same issues. Like the Bishops of the Anglican Communion, when we have met at diocesan council as we did this weekend, our diocese has chosen not to give in to the temptation of the Devil, but to remain united. We have chosen to remain united in mission, and we have chosen to remain united in Jesus. As we addressed issues which brought up our differences even yesterday, leaders gave heartfelt pleas for folks to vote their way, and they also said that whatever the outcome, we would remain united. In both cases, the bishops of the Anglican Communion and the clergy and lay leaders of our diocese have chosen to resist the temptations of the Devil and chosen instead to follow Jesus. They have chosen to endure all the well-intentioned, wrong-minded people. They have chosen to see them as wrong-minded, yes, but as well-intentioned and wrong-minded. They have chosen to see them as brothers and sisters. They have chosen to give up the power of division and to take on instead the weakness of unity, the weakness of reconciliation, the weakness of striving together, the weakness of Jesus, who gave up his power for the sake of love and chose to be hated, to be an outcast, to be mocked, to be condemned and killed, for the sake of us, his beloved. Each of us faces the same challenge within the church, within our daily lives and relationships. When we fight with those we love, we are often tempted to choose the power of being right and trying to force our rightness onto others. We’re tempted to choose the power of ending relationships so we don’t have to endure or strive together, so we can be right and make life go the way we want it to. When strife and crime start happening close to home, we’re tempted to build higher walls, have more security, and to retreat away. Yet, as Jesus’ disciples, we are guided to follow Jesus, to take on his yoke, to take on the weakness of unity, the weakness of reconciliation, the weakness of striving together, the weakness of stepping out together in into the areas of our lives and the areas of our city that frighten us. Resisting the power of the Devil and his division which serves only ourselves, we take on God’s mission of reconciliation together, as one church. We endure for the sake of Jesus’ beloved. We endure for the sake of his love, and we leave the wilderness of striving together in our differences strengthened to live God’s mission of reconciliation. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Ash Wednesday, Year C February 10, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
Feasting On Reconciliation
19th century Anglican priest and famous preacher, Phillips Brooks, gave a sermon entitled, Nature and Circumstance, in which he preached about Jesus’ teachings on greatness and the two worlds in which we find ourselves: the world of men, and the world of the kingdom of God. In this sermon, he wrote about Nicodemus questioning Jesus’ teaching that men must be born again to enter the kingdom of God. Father Brooks said: “Nicodemus wanted Christ to meet him in a lower world, a world of moral precepts and Hebrew traditions, where the Pharisee was thoroughly at home. But Christ said, ‘No, there is a higher world; you must go up there; you must enter into that; you must have a new birth and live in a new life,-in a life where God is loved and known and trusted and communed with.” - Phillips Brooks, Sermons: Nature and Circumstance
Jesus brought to his followers a realization of these two worlds in which we live, and he continually encouraged his followers not to be satisfied with the things of the world of men, but continually to strive for greater things of the kingdom of God. Jesus taught in our Gospel reading today, “Beware of practicing your piety before others,” and instead “pray in secret so that your heavenly Father who sees in secret will reward you.” Through the prophet Isaiah, God taught that he does not desire the religious fasts of the kingdom of men, but desires fasts from human strife and discord. Fast from the ways you harm each other and feast on justice, mercy, reconciliation, and love. Feast on Jesus and the ways of the kingdom of God.
We see in Jesus’ teachings about fasting and prayer, a collision of worlds. The people were living in the world of their religion, a good world, in which they were seeking to fulfill their religious duty and to be good men. Jesus was, however, trying to pull his people up to a higher world, to his kingdom in which they deeply encounter God and therefore deeply love each other.
In the lower world of religious practice, much of what was done made little difference in the world or even in the self. Much of religious practice in Jesus’ day dealt with ritual purity. Follow a set of religious rules, and you’ll be righteous before God. In the higher realm of God’s kingdom, those practices don’t matter. As Jesus taught concerning ritual hand-washing before eating a meal, ritual cleanliness before God doesn’t really matter in the kingdom of God. The cleanliness of our heats is what matters in God’s kingdom.
In our context of Lent, ritual fasting can be a very helpful tool toward opening our hearts to God’s way for our life. The fasting itself, however, does not make one righteous before God. In the higher realm of God’s kingdom, Jesus makes us righteous before God. In the higher realm of God’s kingdom drawing near to God through Jesus is the way of life. In the higher realm of God’s kingdom, believing in Jesus, his teachings and ways, and faithfully seeking to love others as he loves them is our way of life and the feast he would choose for us.
In the higher realm of God’s kingdom, then, our fasting would be to fast from whatever hinders us from drawing near to God, to fast from whatever hinders us from believing in Jesus, to fast from whatever hinders us from following in Jesus’ ways, and to fast from whatever hinders us from loving others as he loves us.
Fast from whatever is keeping you from reconciling with another. Fast from whatever keeps you from prayer. Fast from whatever keeps you from seeking justice, loving mercy, and respecting the dignity of every human being.
In the kingdom of men, we get to judge one another and proclaim our righteousness by comparing ourselves to those we see as less righteous around us. That was the trap of the Pharisees. In the kingdom of God, however, we are freed from this trap. As Bishop Doyle writes, “Christians are free to follow their conscience and are free from the burden of judging or changing others. Christians are prohibited from indicting and sentencing those who are different because of the freedom we have in Christ Jesus.” Jesus frees us from making ourselves righteous by noticing the speck in someone else’s eye. Instead, Jesus loves us, even with the log in our eye, makes us righteous through him, and frees us, thereby, not to judge the other but to love and serve the other. Jesus frees us from the trap of the world of men and allows us to live in the kingdom of God.
I invite you all, therefore into a holy Lent. I invite you to seek the higher world of Jesus’ kingdom. I invite you to fast during this season, to fast from anything that keeps you from reconciliation and love. I invite you to repent of the ways that keep you from living Jesus’ kingdom. Finally, I invite you to feast on Jesus during this season of Lent. Feast on his forgiveness and love. Feast on his reconciliation and healing. Feast on his ways and his presence. God bless you. God loves you. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 5 Epiphany, Year C February 7, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 9:28-36, [37-43a]
Leaving the Locker Room
I was at a men’s retreat this weekend with the men of St. Mark’s in Richmond. Kristin is their go to supply clergy when their rector is away, and she supplied for him last summer when he was on sabbatical. So, the congregation knows and loves her and our kids, and the rector, Bert, thought it would be nice if they got to know me to, so I was invited on the retreat. They actually call is a “gathering of men” because “retreat” is just not something men do. So we gathered for great food, fellowship, games, various beverages, Bible study, skeet shooting, fishing, Eucharist, etc., and I contacted the men on our vestry yesterday afternoon and said, “this thing has been great; we have to do one here.”
So on Friday night, one of the men who leads a weekly Sunday Bible study, led us all in Bible study. It was a thematic study of sports and sport analogies in the Bible (of which there are many), and we looked at these passages, what these sports analogies teach us about our faith, and how the Super Bowl can relate to our faith. Admittedly, I was kinda skeptical at first, but it worked.
From Philippians 3:12-14, “forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal.” There are four quarters of football, and the team lays aside their previous touchdowns and their previous mistakes, that’s the team that’s gonna win. For us too, we cannot live in the past, forever grasping on to that one glorious moment, or forever haunted by the sins of our past. We have to let our past go, give that to Jesus and follow him. From 1 Corinthians 12:12-20, “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.” Special teams doesn’t win the game; offense doesn’t win the game; defense doesn’t win the game. It takes the whole team playing together to win. Within the body of Christ, no one person or group fulfills God’s mission of reconciliation. The whole church, working together fulfills God’s mission of reconciliation.
So, can we get some Gospel truth from the Super Bowl? Yeah, we actually can. When we’re watching the Super Bowl this afternoon, we can think of Jesus and the church a little bit.
Looking then at today’s Gospel story from Luke, we heard the story of Jesus’ transfiguration. Jesus’ glory was revealed. The glory of the Lord was shining out of and through Jesus, and the glory of Jesus full and true humanity was shining. Here is a true human, guys, fully reconciled and connected to God. Whenever Moses was near to God up on the mountain, when he came down, his face was glowing. The nearer we are to God, it seems that the glory of God, in whose image we were made, radiates through us. Jesus revealed this truth of himself and this truth of humanity to Peter and James and John on the mountain. He showed them his glory as if to say, “Here’s who I am guys, and here’s who I am leading you all to be. I am the fulfillment of the law and the prophets. Follow me, and fear not, for I am restoring all things to God.”
Then, once the excitement and joy of the moment was over, Jesus basically said, “ok, back to work.” Why did Jesus take those three disciples up the mountain with him? Perhaps just to pray. That’s why Jesus went up there; maybe he didn’t know the transfiguration was about to happen. We don’t really, know, but in any case, once it did, they didn’t stay there in that moment, stuck forever in the past. They moved on into the future or into the always present moment, continuing God’s mission of reconciliation.
Prior to this, the twelve had been sent out by Jesus to begin their work on God’s mission. They’d done great, preaching and healing, and then, after they all came back, Jesus was curious what people had been saying about him and asked, “who do people say that I am,” and the people had been saying that Jesus was John the Baptist, or Elijah, or one of the prophets. Then, Jesus asked the disciples, “who do you say that I am?” Peter nailed it, declaring Jesus to be “the Christ of God.” Jesus went on to teach them more about that, about how he will be killed and be raised on the third day. He taught them that as his disciples, they too needed to take up their cross and follow him, telling them, “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.”
So the disciples had been doing great. They started their ministry living out God’s mission. They declared and began to understand who Jesus is. They were a little perplexed by the “if you lose your life for my sake, you will save it” part, but they were working through that, and then, Jesus takes Peter and James and John up the mountain to pray.
It was like halftime, and Jesus was in the locker room with the team giving them some instruction, a pep talk and then showing them, the game plan. “Here’s where we’re going guys: restoration, reunion with God. We’re going toward reconciliation and true humanity. I know it’s tough and scary, but when I told you not to fear losing your life, I meant it. Look here are Moses and Elijah, alive and well. Here’s the glory of God and the glory of true humanity shining through me. Trust me guys, I really am restoring all things, and living out God’s mission of reconciliation, it’s leading somewhere great! Now let’s get out there and let’s play some ball.”
So they got this great halftime talk and they got to rest in the locker room for a bit, and then Coldplay and Beyonce stopped singing, halftime was over, and it was time to get back in the game.
The very next day, there was a boy who needed healing. There was gospel work to be done, and for some reason, the disciples couldn’t do it. They’d done great at preaching and healing before. Perhaps they were daunted by what they had heard and seen on the mountain. Jesus had been talking about his coming death on the cross which disturbed the disciples. Perhaps they were still stuck in that moment and just not ready to face the world again. In any case, Jesus showed them that as his disciples, they really did get to keep doing the work he had given them to do. The encounter they had on the mountain with Jesus’ transfiguration gave them strength and encouragement, nearness to God, but it was not a place they were going to stay.
I think of our worship in a similar way. We have an encounter with Jesus in the words of Scripture and in the Sacrament. We get instruction and encouragement. We also have a model for our lives with the liturgy. Our liturgy teaches us to give thanks to God first in everything we do. Our liturgy teaches us to read and study scripture. Our liturgy teaches us to pray for ourselves and for others, to examine our lives, offer our sins to God, and to ask his forgiveness that we may be freed from the past and press on toward to goal. Our liturgy teaches us to encounter Jesus in the ordinary things of life, and then our liturgy gives us an encounter with Jesus in the bread and wine.
Our worship is a place where we are meant to return, but like the mountaintop of Jesus’ transfiguration, our worship is not a place where we are meant to stay. In what our liturgy teaches us, it is like practice or a halftime speech. We get to rest. We gain strength, support, and instruction for our lives from an encounter with Jesus. Afterwards, we give thanks that we get to go forth from here to continue as Jesus’ disciples, living out God’s mission of reconciliation. At the end of each service, halftime’s over, and we get to go out there and play ball. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 4 Epiphany, Year C January 31, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 4:21-30
Giving God Away
So, the people of Nazareth weren’t all that taken with Jesus, were they? In Matthew and Mark’s gospels they were scandalized by Jesus as soon as he started preaching to them. He was from Nazareth and they didn’t think the hometown kid could really make it so good; who was he, preaching to them? In Luke’s gospel, however, we get a very different picture of what happened. The people of Nazareth were awed and amazed at what Jesus had taught them, and by the works he had performed in Capernaum. They note that Jesus was Joseph’s son, and they seem to be especially proud that a hometown boy was there, proclaiming fulfillment of Isaiah’s words of God’s grace. “This is fantastic!” They thought. “We’ve always been a kind of nothing little town, and now we’ve got one of our own who’s already done great things and will do even greater things for us. He’s one of us. Now we’re gonna be great!”
Then, Jesus kind of let them down with what he said next. “Yes, I’m from here, but my mission, and God’s grace is not just for you. Heck, it’s not even primarily for you. Just like Elijah and Elisha, I’m going to bring God’s grace to everyone, Jew and Gentile.” As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was basically telling the people, that while it was the year of the Lord’s favor, it wasn’t necessarily going to be too terribly favorable for them.
See, the stories he told of Elijah and Elisha were about both of those prophets preaching and healing folks who weren’t Israelites, folks who were Gentiles, and Elijah and Elisha were preaching to and healing Gentiles because they had been rejected by Israel. Israel at the time was under the rule of some pretty bad kings, and they were no longer faithful to God, so God was taking his salvation elsewhere. “Like Israel of old,” Jesus was saying, “y’all aren’t really as faithful to God as you’ve led yourselves to believe, and the good news is going to reach the Gentiles with much greater effectiveness than y’all. Essentially, you’ve squandered God’s grace, so it’s moving on.”
So at that point, yeah, they got pretty upset at the hometown kid telling them that the year of the Lord’s favor had come, that they were basically going to ignore and reject it, and that the year of the Lord’s favor was going to be accepted by Gentiles rather than by them. He was telling them, “y’all seem to want this all for yourself, for your own benefit only, and that’s not the way God’s kingdom works. Y’all are supposed to be introducing God to the nations, not despising the nations because they don’t have God.” They’d shut God up in a box, and God was springing out of it. God was already there with the Gentiles, and Israel was supposed to let them know that.
So, Jesus was going to let the nations know that. This fact apparently didn’t sit well with the people of Nazareth. “We want you all for ourselves. We want to control the outcome of this new prophet. God is supposed to behave the way we want him to, the way our religion tells us he will.” So they became angry enough to try to kill Jesus. Their anger may have stemmed from the fact that deep inside, they knew Jesus was correct. When we’re shamed, we often react with anger, and we’re only shamed by something if we believe there is truth to it. The people of Nazareth seemed to know the truth of Jesus’ words, that they hadn’t been living as a light to the nations. They hadn’t been bringing good news to the poor, release to the captive, freedom for the oppressed, and recovery of sight to the blind (even if that sight was given by another persons’ eyes, taking the blind alongside with them). They hadn’t been living they ways that Isaiah prophesied, and then they expected Jesus to be good news primarily for them.
To be fair, that’s not an uncommon trap that people who experience grace and good news fall into. Even Jesus’ first disciples fell into the same trap. As Bishop Doyle points out in his book, A Generous Community, Peter and James and John wanted to build booths when they saw Jesus transfigured. They wanted to keep control over that event and, then they could bring others there. They would have control over that moment of grace. Additionally, at one point when little children were trying to see Jesus, they disciples didn’t want the little children coming to Jesus. They wanted to control access to him and to keep their places of power and authority, but Jesus wasn’t having it with them any more than the people of Nazareth. “Let the little children come to me,” Jesus said, “For it is to such as them that the Kingdom of God belongs.”
Jesus and the Kingdom of God were never meant to be kept as a prize for one’s own benefit. Jesus and the Kingdom of God were always meant to be given away. As former Archbishop of Canterbury, William Temple, famously said, "The Church is the only society that exists for the benefit of those who are not its members." Now he didn’t say only. The church doesn’t only exist for the benefit of those who are not its members. The church exists for both its members and for those who are not its members, but do we sometimes find ourselves in the same trap as the disciples and the people of Nazareth, wanting Jesus primarily for ourselves, working first and foremost for us?
If you’re anything like me, there are times when the answer is yes. I’m guessing all of us have times when we primarily want Jesus for ourselves, and the thought of giving Jesus and the Kingdom of God away doesn’t seem right, especially if we’re giving it away to people who seem undeserving in our eyes. Further, giving Jesus and his kingdom away raises fears that there won’t be enough for us. If we as a church do too much work for those outside, will there still be enough Jesus left for us? The truth is, Jesus, his kingdom, and his grace have no limits. There is always enough Jesus to go around. I asked last week when the good news or release from captivity has happened to us, and who was Jesus for us when that happened. Jesus has ministered to us in all kinds of ways and through all kinds of people, and Jesus is out there too, ministering to all kinds of people in all kinds of ways and places, and he is using all kinds of people to do his ministry. Sometimes people know that Jesus is ministering to them, and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes people believe in Jesus when he is ministering to them and through them, and sometimes they don’t.
We heard in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians this morning, “Faith, hope, and love abide, these three, and the greatest of these is love.” If you have faith enough to move mountains but do not have love, you are nothing. Hearts of love are even more beautiful and important to God than are hearts of faith. “When did we see you naked and hungry and we clothed and fed you, Jesus?” “Whenever you did so to the least people,” Jesus responded, “whenever your hearts were full of love and compassion for others.”
We are called as the church, as Jesus disciples to be people of love, people who give our love to other people. If you listen to much Christian media lately, there seems to be a divide between people of faith, and the bad people who don’t believe. That may work for our polarized society, but it is not what Jesus was about. Jesus loved people, whether Jew or Gentile. He brought faith to those who didn’t have it. He brought hope to those who were without it. He loved extravagantly.
Our joy is that we too, as Jesus’ disciples get to love extravagantly, to bring hope with our love to people of faith and to people without faith. We get to invite people to be here with us, and we get to be out there where Jesus already is, sharing love, faith, and hope, serving others as Jesus’ disciples.
In looking at the church, who we are and who we will become, Bishop Doyle writes: The God that we choose to follow is a God who is out and among the people. The God we follow bids us to make a Church that is…out and among the people…This God cannot be contained. God’s mission cannot be contained…We must become a generation of church-makers who play in the waters of baptism and in the Scriptures and around God’s altar. This is sacred and holy play through which we reenact – inside and outside church building, and in our lives – the great story of God’s creation. We are to be about making the world into a different place…with all the tools at our disposal. Most especially we are to make it new with God’s love, grace, forgiveness, and mercy. We are to share and open up our church and walk out into the sweet-smelling and lush garden of creation. We are to invite, welcome, and connect with others. We are to share the message that God says to all people – “Come unto me all you who travail and are heave laden and I will refresh you.”…Don’t keep the little children away. Don’t keep away those who have tried to follow Jesus and believe they have failed. Don’t keep [from God] those who have drifted away from church…Give God away. By all means let them all come. And let us go. And let us make the church together. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 2 Epiphany, Year C January 17, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 4:14-21
The Spirit of the Lord Is Upon Us
“Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” That was the teaching from the hometown Nazareth carpenters’ kid. Not someday. Not keep waiting on God to deliver you, but now, today, Jesus claimed, is the year of the Lord’s favor. The spirit of God was upon him, anointing him to bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, an end to oppression, and the year of the Lord’s favor.
“The year of the Lord’s favor” was possibly a reference to the year of Jubilee which God commanded in Leviticus 25. Every fiftieth year was the Jubilee year, a year of rest for the land when the people didn’t work the land. God promised to bless the land so that it would provide in abundance, and the people ate whatever the land provided. Additionally, in the Jubilee year debts were forgiven. In the 49 years before each Jubilee, if anyone fell on hard times, they could become their kinsman’s servant, being cared for by their kinsman and living as an indentured servant. There was no interest or penalty. Rather, those who couldn’t support themselves were cared for by their relatives, but not as a free ride; those being cared for also contributed.
Then, on the 50th year, anyone who was living as an indentured servant was released to go back to their own house, their own land, and start over. Everyone was to return to their own property and all of Israel was to observe this year of rest for the land, restoration for the poor, and trust in God to provide for them.
So there was a partnership in the Jubilee year. God blessed the land and the people, and the people trusted in God and showed mercy and forgiveness to each other. God was reminding the people, “you became slaves in Egypt, and I delivered you. You were hungry in the desert, and I provided for you. Now release the land from its work and release each other from service, and trust in me to bless you and provide for you.
We don’t know that Jesus was actually proclaiming a year of Jubilee, but he was proclaiming God’s blessing on the people, release for the captive, good news to the poor, and recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom for the oppressed. Like the year of Jubilee, there was release, and like the year of Jubilee, there was necessarily a partnership and ownership of Jesus’ words by the people. If there is going to be release for captive, freedom for the oppressed, and good news for the poor, those things are going to have to be lived out by those who hear Jesus’ words.
So, then, what is the good news that Jesus was fulfilling, the good news that was to be proclaimed to the poor? The good news is God’s love and blessing not only for those who are obviously blessed, but for the poor and marginalized as well. The good news is God becoming human and living among us, uniting himself to us perfectly through Jesus. The good news is the life of God’s kingdom which Jesus describes in parable after parable. The good news is a job for the jobless. The good news is bread for the hungry. The good news is an employee who chooses to pay his workers what they need, even if it seems overly generous. The good news is Jesus himself who lived among us in one body for 30 years and now lives among us in each of our bodies continuing to fulfill the good news to the poor.
Jesus also proclaimed the good news of release for the captives and freedom for the oppressed. People are captive to all sorts of things: prison, jail, booze, poor decisions, low expectations, harsh childhoods, poverty, anger, resentment, pride, guilt, wealth, success, anxiety, fear. The list of things people are held captive by goes on and on, and Jesus came to proclaim release. “Neither do I condemn you,” Jesus told to the woman caught in adultery. “Your faith has made you well,” Jesus told the woman suffering from a hemorrhage and the man who was blind. “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise,” Jesus said to the dying thief crucified next to him. “Feed my sheep,” Jesus told to the guilt ridden Peter. Jesus proclaimed release to people held captive to all kinds of things. He released them and told them they were God’s beloved children. He releases us from all that we’ve done wrong and proclaims us to be God’s beloved children.
We then get to be the voice of Jesus proclaiming release, and we get to be the body of Jesus providing release to people from that which holds them captive. As we saw in Jesus’ life, this is often messy work. That too is the good news from Isaiah which Jesus proclaimed fulfilled. Strive for righteousness, justice, mercy, live the ways that Jesus proclaimed fulfilled, and I will be with you, God proclaimed.
So then, God became human and lived these very ways that he commanded. God lived with his people as Jesus and got down in the muck with them to fulfill what he had proclaimed through Isaiah. That’s the good news of the Gospel, and then, Jesus says there’s even more good news. Y’all get to get down into the muck of each others’ lives too. As Paul writes in Romans 12:16, “Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are.”
God fulfilled Isaiah’s words by associating with the lowly, by becoming one of us. He showed us that associating with the lowly is the way of the good news of his Kingdom. He also showed us that everyone is lowly in some way. Do not be haughty, do not claim to be wiser than you are. Everyone is held captive by something, and no one is too good to associate with the poor, the marginalized, and the oppressed.
There is freedom in those words. There is freedom in realizing we really are all in this thing together. There is freedom in realizing we all have muck in our lives. There is freedom in fulfilling Isaiah’s words, in being helpers for one another in the muck of our lives. We were after all made from the dust of the ground, the muck of the earth, and we were made to be helpers for one another. For Adam, when God saw that it wasn’t good that he was alone, Eve was the good news.
As Jesus’ body and Jesus voice, we get to be the good news for each other. We get to be the good news in our more private lives, and we get to be the good news as the church. We get to mentor children in our schools, some of us through Kids Hope USA beginning in a couple of weeks at Linnie Roberts. For the kids whom we mentor, we are the good news.
We get to give as we each have means to do so. We get to give to each other and to those we know who are in need. For some, this will be giving in a big way for someone who is really down and out. For some, this is will be smaller things, but no less big to the person in need. We get to be the good news.
We get to be the good news when we cook breakfast on Friday mornings and offer Bible study and prayer. We get to be the good news when we sit and talk with the folks who come in to eat, and often, they get to be the good news for us.
We get to be the good news to young frightened mothers and mothers to be when we donate to and volunteer with the Women’s Pregnancy Center. We get to be the good news that says, “You aren’t judged; you are loved. You’re baby is not a mistake, but a blessing. You are not raising your child alone, for I am with you.” That is the good news the mentors give to young frightened moms who come to the Pregnancy Center.
So how are we all going to be the good news? How are you going to be the good news? How am I going to be the good news? What good news has Jesus brought to you, and who was Jesus when he brought that good news to you? How have Jesus’ words be fulfilled, and how as Jesus, will you fulfill them?
"The Spirit of the Lord is upon us, because he has anointed us to bring good news to the poor. He has sent us to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."
Today this scripture is fulfilled in our hearing. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 2 Epiphany, Year C January 17, 2016 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX John 2:1-11
Everyday Jesus vs. Apocalypse Jesus
So when Jesus and his mother, Mary, were at a wedding, and the wine ran out, Mary told Jesus, "They have no wine." And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." It seems that Jesus thought his mother was telling him they needed wine for the Last Supper. “My hour has not yet come,” Jesus said. “It’s not time for that important meal yet, mom, I don’t need any extra wine.”
Then, I’m assuming one look from Mary told Jesus, “Son, I know we’re not there yet, but in the mean time, there is a whole lot of living to do. Give these people some wine…and don’t ever refer to me as ‘woman’ again.” “Oh, you mean wine for the party?” Jesus realized. “Good idea Mom, the stuff they’ve been serving so far isn’t that good anyway...and yes ma’am,” and then Mary commanded the wine steward to do whatever Jesus said.
Why was this such a big deal, and why was Mary so intent on making sure there was wine enough at the wedding? It may seem like an odd miracle to start letting people know that the Messiah has come, making sure there was plenty of really good wine, but Jesus helped the couple and family out quite a bit. This was a wedding, and wine at a wedding was a big deal, much like it often is today.
Providing the wine was more than getting folks drunk. Providing the wine helped the couple start out on the right foot. If the party didn’t go well, people would talk. Social shaming is far from new, and running out of wine at the wedding could have been the talk of the town for quite some time. Social status meant a good bit, more perhaps even than it does now. Providing wine for the party meant that this couple didn’t get shamed on their wedding night, meant that their marriage didn’t begin badly.
It seems no surprise then, that Mary, was the one who insisted that this young couple not be shamed on their wedding night. Mary knew quite well the shunning that goes with shaming and diminished social status. She was, after all, the possible adulteress wife of Joseph who ended up pregnant before she was even married. That was a big deal in those days, and she likely suffered much scorn. Jesus may well have been thinking, “no wine, no big deal.” Perhaps in directing Jesus to provide more wine, Mary was also helping to teach him and remind him about how badly we often treat each other and how important every day of our life is, not just the end. Jesus’ hour had not yet come, but the newlywed couples’ hour was right then.
We tend get so wrapped up in the end, in the tasks we have, etc. that we miss or mistreat the people and the world around us. We’ll have a deadline or we’ll be late, and in our anxiety and dwelling about that end, we can be rather less than cordial towards others, especially if they interrupt us or make us even later. We dwell on the end and miss or mistreat the people and the world around us.
We even tent to dwell on the apocalypse. Whole fields of study, books, movies, theologies all dwell on the apocalypse, the end of the world. Why? Perhaps because it is scary and big and it makes for a great book or movie, but perhaps too because the apocalypse is easy, simple. Our anxieties seem to push us as a society to the apocalypse, contemplating, fearing, dwelling on the end of the world. Even if not the end of the world, conversation in Bible study often turns to the end of our lives and what happens after we die. Certainly there is anxiety about our deaths and the end of the world, but I think our conversations about Jesus often turn to the end of our lives and the end of the world not because we are anxious about then end, but because we are anxious about right now. Whatever the end will be, we ultimately don’t have much control over it. The end is much simpler than now.
Living isn’t easy, and there is plenty to fear today. It can be simpler in one’s belief in Jesus to skip to then end not have to actually live, but we’re not here just for the end. We’re here for all the living before the end. Jesus also isn’t here just for the end. He isn’t present only at the end. He blessed and sanctified not only our deaths but our lives. Jesus is here for every day of our living, including the end. It’s nice to know too that even Jesus was at times perhaps too focused on the end and needed a reminder from his mom, “it’s time for living, son. Be the light of the world, even here, now, for this young couple.”
The best wine, like what Jesus helped serve at the wedding, is here for us not only at our last supper, but for all of the meals and feasts in between. The light of Jesus is here for the unimportant and mundane, which is where much of our lives are spent. The important and mundane of every day are important enough for “Everyday Jesus” to hallow and sanctify with his presence. It may not make for as good of a movie or be as flashy and exciting as “Apocalypse Jesus”, but that’s not where we live. We live in the everyday. We live in the simple anxieties and joys, the humdrum and excitement of everyday life. Mary reminded Jesus, and Jesus reminds us all, that he is here with us and for us in our everyday lives, because all of our lives are hallowed and sacred. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 1 Epiphany, Year C January 10, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
The Heathen Preaching to the Church
When Jesus came to be baptized by John, people had been coming in droves to be baptized by him. It was like a lengthy mass baptism as people came who were seeking God’s kingdom, seeking a new life and a new way of life in God’s kingdom, rather than the ways of the kingdoms of the earth. This was far more than a liturgical new years’ resolution, far more than individuals wanting to be better. They were seeking a whole new life, a whole new way of life. They were sloughing off the old ways of the old age and the kingdoms of the earth, and preparing for the new age of God’s kingdom.
For us, we largely have individuals or a few people getting baptized at any one time, and over the centuries, people have begun to see baptism as being about personal salvation: individuals choosing to “get saved” and secure entry for themselves into God’s kingdom. From the beginning, however, baptism was not just about an individual’s salvation, but an entire people choosing to divest of the old ways and to put on the new garments of life in God’s kingdom. Then, they devoted the rest of their lives to living out the ways of God’s kingdom, bringing it about and living God’s kingdom, even as they awaited the day when God’s kingdom would come fully. Baptism was not about securing individual entry into God’s kingdom when a person died, but people living out God’s kingdom while alive.
Baptism as sloughing off of the old ways and allegiance to the old kingdoms and inaugurating life in God’s kingdom, that is the baptism with which Jesus was baptized. Then, after he was, he was anointed by the Holy Spirit and proclaimed as God’s son, the beloved.
Anointing and proclamation were essential elements of declaring leadership in ancient Israel. The ancient kings of Israel were anointed with oil and proclaimed as God’s chosen kings. The prophet Samuel anointed Saul and then David after him, speaking for God in proclaiming them to be God’s chosen kings of Israel. When Jesus was anointed, however, it was not by God’s prophet, but by the Holy Spirit. The proclamation came not from a human intermediary, but from God himself. Jesus was the one to lead this new kingdom of God. Jesus’ kingdom. Jesus’ authority.
How did he assert his authority? Well, he prayed a lot. He taught people about his kingdom. He helped people. He spoke out when he saw people in authority abusing or misusing their authority.
Jesus did not force his kingdom. He could have, of course. As he told Peter, when he was being arrested, Jesus could have commanded legions of angels to fight for him, to prevent his arrest, and presumably make happen anything he wanted to happen. Jesus’ might, his command, and his authority exceeded that of any king of the earth, and yet when it came time to fight, Jesus let the kingdoms of the earth kill him. Jesus chose to let his kingdom be lived out by choice, not by force. Jesus’ kingdom, the new age, is lived by people choosing to follow him and live his teachings. One day, yes, his kingdom will come fully, but until then, he left to human choice, how much his kingdom would or would not be lived out here on earth.
So what are some of the ways of the new age, the age of Jesus’ kingdom that he teaches, but does not force? One is Jesus’ notion of fairness. Remember the end of Jesus’ parable about the workers in the vineyard? The owner of the vineyard hired some folks at the beginning of the day and promised them a days’ wage. Throughout the day he found other people who hadn’t found work, and he hired them too. Then they were all paid the same. “Hey, that’s not fair,” they guys who worked all day said, “those guys earned just as much as we, and yet they didn’t work nearly as long as we did.” “True, they didn’t work as long as y’all did,” Jesus would say, “but they still needs enough to live on, doesn’t they?” (Matthew 20:1-16) In the new age of Jesus’ kingdom, fairness is superseded by basic human needs and love of people.
Another way of Jesus’ kingdom is the approach to institutions and religion. Jesus was teaching the Scribes and the Pharisees about how they keep their traditions for the sake of the institution of their religion and end up ignoring God’s ways. “Sorry, Mom and Dad, but I can’t support you in your old age,” they would have people say. “I’ve got the means to support you, but I have to give that money to the Synagogue.” “No, young man,” Jesus would say, “you need to take care of your parents first. Half the reason to give to the Synagogue is so they can care for people in need. If you take care of your parents, then the Synagogue won’t have to.” (Mark 7:6-13) Our institutions are not more important that the people for whom they were made.
We live smack dab in the middle of the kingdoms of this world, the kingdoms of the old age. Many of these kingdoms have been influenced by Jesus and his kingdom, but the kingdoms and governments of the earth are still kingdoms of the old age. This means that even as we try to influence the kingdoms of the world, we are also influenced by the kingdoms of the world. We hear the ways and wisdom of the kingdoms of this world, kingdoms that we love (our government, our businesses, our American way of life), and we end up following the ways of these kingdoms, sometimes even when they don’t follow the way of Jesus’ kingdom.
Our challenge is to live in both worlds, the old age of the kingdoms of the earth and the new age of Jesus’ kingdom. Our challenge is to live Jesus’ kingdom without forcing his kingdom on others. Like Jesus, the way for us to live his kingdom is to pray a lot, to teach about his kingdom and way, to help people, and to speak out when we see people in authority abusing or misusing their authority. This also means that we may need to put away our swords when our teaching and speaking out angers those who hear.
A friend of mine read an article I had posted about the church’s need to invite people to join them in worship and to teach people about Jesus, no longer assuming that most people know about Jesus. She pointed out that many people don’t want to know about Jesus and are quite frankly tired of having Christianity forced down their throats, being told that they are terrible people or being threatened with hell for not believing in Jesus. She wrote, Setting up missions to convert the heathens is not what the church needs. Fighting injustice, battling for the rights and dignity of the poor, helping to create a world without prejudice, these are missions Jesus would get behind. The like-minded people who join a church because it's focused not inward on their own population but outward on what good they can do in the world are people you can be proud to call brothers and sister in Christ.
My friend is, by the way, not a Christian, the heathen preaching to the church. I agreed with her about the mission of the church, and I also wrote the following regarding evangelism and sharing our faith, beliefs, and the ways of Jesus’ kingdom: I do assume that lots of people would benefit from hearing [about Jesus and his kingdom]. I do assume that people would benefit from hearing about and living the way of Jesus: a way of love, compassion, grace, forgiveness, reconciliation, relationships chosen over being right, etc…I don't believe our faiths were ever meant to be kept quiet. We were meant to connect to each other, and sharing our deeply held beliefs is a prime way we do that. Evangelism is that offering of self, the sharing of who we are via what we believe. When shared, not forced, it can be great. Some will find it to be good news and want to believe the same. Some will simply find it interesting and know a person better.
We are to live and preach and teach Jesus’ kingdom by truly adopting his ways as ours, and then talking about his kingdom not simply as an imperative of scripture (that’s what the Scribes and Pharisees did). We’ll live and preach and teach Jesus’ kingdom by living it and then offering what we have lived and experienced to others. Consider Jesus and his baptism, the sloughing off of the old age and the old ways of earthly kingdoms. Consider his anointing by the Holy Spirit and the proclamation from God that Jesus is his beloved Son and the king of the new age and life in Jesus’ kingdom. Then, consider your baptism into his kingdom. Remember your baptism, the sloughing off of the old ways and the desire and commitment to live and proclaim Jesus’ kingdom and the new age of his ways. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 2 Christmas, Year C January 3, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23
Mary and Joseph took Jesus from Bethlehem and fled to Egypt, fleeing for Jesus’ life, threatened by the murderous king Herod. This was not the first time someone from Israel fled to Egypt under the threat of death. Back before Israel was a mighty nation, there is Israel the man, whose favorite son, Joseph was about to be killed by his brothers because they were jealous of him. At the last minute, one of the brothers, Judah, decided to sell him into slavery rather than kill him, so Joseph was taken by to Egypt by some passing traders. Going to Egypt, his life was spared.
Years later, Joseph had become the Pharaoh’s second hand in Egypt by predicting a drought and having them store grain to prepare. When the drought hit, Joseph’s brothers and his father, Israel, were starving, and so they fled to Egypt to escape death. Once there, they were reunited with their brother and son, and the sons of Israel became the people of Israel, and centuries later, under Moses’ leadership, the people of Israel left Egypt to become the nation of Israel.
Jesus’ life retells this earlier story, fleeing to Egypt to escape death, then returning to his home to become who he was. Neither journey was an easy one to make, but they were necessary. Mary and Joseph took the journey to Egypt, to the unknown, in order to protect their beloved son, Jesus, and by doing so, they kept the light of his Gospel burning bright.
The church throughout the United States, we’re facing declining worship attendance for many reasons. More folks work on Sunday than they did 30 years ago. Many folks are traveling to see family, others are tired and wanting to stay home with their immediate family. Still others are finding more entertaining ways to use their free time on Sunday.
Additionally, more and more people are changing their religious affiliation from Christian to “none”. People are leaving the church, and leaving their faith in Jesus along with it. We now have a new mission field full of people who either don’t know or have forgotten the light of the Gospel, and we have a church that is not equipped to bring the light of the Gospel to them.
We’ve operated under an attractional model of church for centuries. “Build it and they will come”, or even “invite them and they will come” has been our primary way and often our only way of spreading the light of Jesus. Our invitations are reaching some, but our invitations are not reaching the majority of people who have either left the faith or have left the habit of coming to church to worship with their community.
The slow and steady shrinking of the church is happening faster and faster. More and more people see the church as an institution, and they are untrusting of the institution. Many people live in small communities where it is not economically feasible to build a church and pay a clergy to lead them and fulfill their sacramental life. Our sacramental way of life and sharing the light of Jesus has become limited by our attractional model of church, bringing people here, being the only way that we live out the Gospel.
It is time for the church, like Jesus before her, to go to Egypt.
In our context, going to Egypt means adopting new ways of living and sharing the Gospel. We’re going to continue worshipping here. We’re going to continue inviting people to share in our life here. We also need to start meeting in small groups and small communities in which not everyone may come here to worship, but their communities and groups would still be connected here, even sacramentally.
Bishop Doyle in his upcoming book calls this “Small Batch: The Local, Organic, and Sustainable Church.” This is not the end of church as we are used to, but the addition of new ways, or really old ways, of being church. Some of the earliest churches met in Synagogues or other places for worship in fairly large communities. Some of the earliest churches also met in peoples’ homes or in small assemblies in public places. They would share scripture together, pray together, and they would share a meal together in Jesus’ name, remembering his last supper with his disciples and his command that they continue to share bread and wine in remembrance of him.
This was the fastest period of church growth ever, and there were many models for how people worshipped and lived their lives as Jesus’ disciples in community with others. Quite unlike our modern sensibilities that church and faith should be quiet and private, faith was talked about in these small communities of friends or small communities of people with similar vocations. Faith was shared, and peoples’ relationships came to be formed around their affection for each other and through sharing their faith with each other.
The light of the Gospel spread not only through invitation to large communities. The light of the Gospel also spread through sharing faith in Jesus, through prayer, worship, and Eucharist in small batch communities: people who were together first through their affection for each other and then held together even more strongly through their faith and life in Jesus.
Over the centuries, our worship life centralized around the altar and we developed the model for church and the way of life to which we are all accustomed. This way of life for the church has worked well and continues to work well for many of us, but we cannot continue with our current way of communal church life as the only way. Nationwide, declining membership in the church, declining membership, and declining faith in Jesus show us that we can’t simply stay as we are. We must remain as we are, and we must also go to Egypt. We must go to a place that is for us, largely unknown, but is the place in which the sons of Israel became the people of Israel, the place in which Jesus escaped death, and the metaphoric place in which the early church thrived and grew.
While keeping one foot firmly where we are, we’re also going back to the earliest times of the church, and like the earliest church, we don’t exactly have a roadmap. The earliest church often had traditions which they kept and they also made their way as they went.
We don’t have a roadmap for how Small Batch communities are supposed to work either. So we’ll try things. One thing I’ve talked to some folks about already is forming some small groups with people for whom we already have great affection, people who are already our friends. These small groups of friends can agree to meet here for worship together at least once a month. They can also meet together at other times for Bible study and prayer, for meals and sharing faith. They can grow their affection for one another by intentionally living out their faith tougher. Then, these small batch communities could invite another friend to join them, and our shared life in the Gospel of Jesus would deepen and grow.
There are other things we’ll try, other small groups with some folks who may or may not worship here, but who will worship together. We’ll succeed, and we’ll fail, and we’ll try again. We don’t exactly know where this is going, but we do know where we are headed if we do nothing and continue on the same path. Nationwide continued decline.
I’m going to keep pushing for folks to start small batch communities. If you’ve got an idea for one, start it, talk to me about it, and I’ll support you. We can’t be afraid of failure or afraid of what others will think. What we need to do is to dare greatly for the sake of the sake of the Gospel, and so I leave us with the words of Theodore Roosevelt and the words of St. Paul.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face I marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best know in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly… - Theodore Roosevelt, Citizenship in a Republic
Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that be testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. - Paul, Romans 12:2 Amen.
Brad Sullivan Christmas Eve, Year C December 27, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX John 1:1-18
When Jesus was born, it was likely a tough year. Herod was king over Israel. While he had not yet committed the mass murder of infants and toddlers, such a heart still dwelled within that man who was king. It couldn’t have been great with him as monarch. Rome still ruled over Israel with their taxes and contempt for the people of Israel. Darkness was everywhere, and into that darkness came the light of Jesus. With all of the bad, we still hear the story of a single baby being born.
We’re told that on the night of Jesus’ birth, Mary pondered what was meant that Jesus is the Messiah, the Lord. John, in his Gospel, seeks to answer those questions. Jesus brought life into being and that life is the light of all people. As Jesus came among us, the true light was coming into the world, full of grace and truth. The light of Jesus shone in the darkness of the world, and the darkness did not overcome it.
There was plenty of darkness after Jesus was born. Less than two years after Jesus was born, King Herod went on his killing spree, murdering infants and toddlers, and so Mary and Joseph had to flee Israel and go to Egypt, not an easy trip with a toddler, less so when you are fleeing the threat of death. Then, as word came that Herod had been successful in his mass killing of infants and toddlers, and Mary and Joseph knew it was because he had wanted to kill Jesus, those deaths must have pierced their souls. They knew some of the children Herod had killed, knew their parents; Jesus had been playing with some of them, would have grown up together. The darkness began to overwhelm Mary and Joseph. Then they looked at Jesus and the saw the light of God piercing the darkness of the world. They saw how special he was, saw God’s grace and truth already manifest in him. They looked at Jesus and knew that it all was worth it and all would be well, even for the slaughtered innocents. The light shone in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.
By all accounts, it has been a tough year for us too. We haven’t had any state sanctioned mass killings of infants and toddlers, but we have had plenty of mass killings. The economy has declined in Texas with the decline of oil prices. We are still involved in multiple wars in the Middle East. Politicians and presidential candidates sound not like statesmen, but like middle schoolers arguing in the lunchroom (no offense intended to our middle schoolers). Many of these politicians seem to want to use the darkness to increase peoples’ fear, so that we’ll vote for them as the solution to the darkness.
There certainly is more than enough darkness to be overcome by, but we look not to politicians, but to Jesus. We look to Jesus and see his light, full of grace and truth, and the darkness of the world recedes. We don’t ignore or tune out the problems of our lives and our world when we look to Jesus, we get a lamp filled with his light so we can make our way through the darkness without shame or fear.
The thing about darkness is, it seems oppressive and vast, threatening to drown everyone in a flood. Darkness seems that way, but it is held back and cast out by even the smallest light. We carry the light of Jesus with us to light our way through the darkness. We carry the light of Jesus with us to light the way for others.
The thing about light is, darkness does not extinguish the light. There may be far greater darkness than light, but no matter how vast the darkness, it cannot extinguish the light. Only neglect can do that. Fires don’t go out because it becomes too dark around the fire. Fires go out when they are left untended. Darkness does not extinguish the light of Jesus in our lives or in the world. Only our neglect of our faith can dim the light of the Gospel in the lamps we carry.
When we neglect the Gospel, the light of Jesus dims within us. When we neglect our faith, the light of Jesus dims within us. When we neglect of spending time in the presence of God, dwelling in his love, hope, and peace, then the light of Jesus dims within us. When the light of Jesus dims within us, then the light of Jesus dims within the world.
On Christmas Eve, I said that like Mary, we are God bearers, bringing the story of Jesus with us, bringing faith in Jesus with us to share with others. So many need to hear the story, need to witness faith in Jesus. We are meant to be God bearers for them.
We are also light bearers, carrying with us the light of Jesus to shine in the darkness for others. To do this, we have to tend the flames. If we neglect the fire of the Gospel, then it will still burn within us, but it can become too dim for people to notice, and people need to notice. With the darkness in the world, people need the light of Jesus. We need the light of Jesus.
And what is the light of Jesus, the grace and truth which the darkness cannot overcome? The way of choosing vulnerability over power, the way of choosing love over anger and pride, the way of choosing forgiveness and reconciliation over righteousness and revenge, the way of walking and dwelling with God. These are the ways of Jesus, the way of the light.
Jesus showed us a new way of being, but he did not just come to give us a new law. The light of Jesus itself is simply Jesus. The light of Jesus is not only a way, but a person, the Word of God which spoke creation into existence, the Word of God which became human, uniting us all forever to God in perfect unity. God became human in Jesus, showing us what it is to be truly and fully human. The light of Jesus burns within us, within our true humanity, and the darkness within us cannot overcome it. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Christmas Eve, Year C December 24, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 2:1-14(15-20)
When Kristin’s and my first son, Noah, was born, we were rather excited, a little apprehensive, and not entirely clueless as to what we were supposed to do and what was coming. There I was, the proud daddy-to-be, standing by Kristin’s side in the delivery room, looking lovingly and expectantly at my wife, and as the nurse was getting Kristin’s vitals, she asks me, “are you the coach?”
“Uh, I’m her husband, father of the little baby in there. Does that count?” Apparently it did because the nurse let me stay. I don’t know how successfully coachy I was, but as husband and father, I did a pretty good job, there by her side, holding her hand throughout the three-hour delivery.
I’m not sure whether or not Joseph was an overly good coach when Mary gave birth either. I’m guessing he was nearby, but I’m further guessing that there were more than a few women with Mary when she gave birth to Jesus. Notice that when the shepherds came to see Jesus just after his birth, all who heard the shepherds were amazed at what they said, not only Mary and Joseph, but all who heard.
Giving birth to a baby is not an overly tidy event, and the birth of Jesus was probably not an overly quiet event either. Imagine the folks who were staying in the inn listening to Mary throughout her labor and delivery. The husbands who were there, if they even woke up, probably asked their wives to go do something about the noise, thinking it was just their own kids crying, and the women probably went to help.
They found a young woman, giving birth to her firstborn child. You can bet they were by her side, helping Mary to deliver Jesus, giving her encouragement, and serving as midwives. The men probably did come down and sit with Joseph and hand out cigars once Jesus was born. They didn’t offer him a room, but they were probably there. Then, the women at least stayed with this new mother and father, helping them swaddle Jesus and tend to their needs. Together then, this gathering of people received the shepherds and heard their news of an angel choir announcing Jesus’ birth. Together, they heard that Jesus was the Messiah, the Lord, and they were amazed.
In the days that followed, they questioned and wondered, and started to believe. They started to believe that Jesus was something special, something beyond an ordinary baby, something beyond an ordinary king. They stared to believe because of what the shepherds told them. The shepherds had been in their fields, away from the town. Mary was pretty loud giving birth, but she wasn’t that loud. The shepherds’ story of angelic messengers and a heavenly choir must have been true. So the people who were there to help with Jesus’ birth wondered, like Mary, what all of this meant. Who would Jesus grow up to be? What did it mean that the Messiah, the Lord, had just been born? Who did they tell? Who else started wondering with hopeful anticipation about the savior? They didn’t fully understand yet, but they began telling people that this baby, named Jesus, was born.
Our faith was never meant to be private. The good news of Jesus was always meant to be shared. The good news of Jesus birth is still meant to be shared. Everyone in this country knows that tomorrow is Christmas. I don’t care what faith people have, Christmas is such a part, even of our secular culture, that everyone knows about Christmas. A lot of people, however, still need to hear about the birth of Jesus.
People may know it is Christmas, but they may not know or may have forgotten the mind-boggling, soul healing significance of Jesus’ birth. Large scale media campaigns just don’t do justice to sharing the good news of Jesus birth. Intimate personal sharing of the good news is how Jesus birth was shared back then. That’s how God intends us to share it now.
What is the good news of Jesus’ birth? God became human and trusted himself to us. We who deep inside are all at some level of mess, we who strive for the right things and end up reaching the wrong things, we who seek power over the slings and arrows of life and end up somewhere on the path to the dark side, we were entrusted with Jesus, not because we are perfect, but because we are beloved. We’ve been entrusted with Jesus and God has joined himself with us forever, walking with us again as he did in Eden.
That is good news that is meant to be shared. The way of Jesus is meant to be shared. The way of choosing vulnerability over power, the way of choosing love over anger and pride, the way of choosing forgiveness and reconciliation over righteousness and revenge, the way of walking and dwelling with God: these ways are the way of Jesus, and the way of Jesus is meant to be shared.
Whenever we share the birth of Jesus, whenever we share his ways, Jesus is born again in our hearts and in the hearts of those with whom we share him. Whenever we share the birth of Jesus, we become God-bearers. That was a title given to Mary, the Theotokos, the God-bearer. Like the shepherds and the people present at Jesus’ birth, we bring the news of Jesus’ birth into the world. Then, like Mary, we are God-bearers as well. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 4 Advent, Year C December 20, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 1:39-45 (46-55)
Slings & Arrows
My family and I saw Star Wars: The Force Awakens on Friday night, and it was totally awesome, everything I’ve been waiting almost 30 years for. Tickets were sold out for weeks before the movie even opened (we had our since October), and we’re seeing it again tomorrow night (with tickets we’ve also had since October). Apparently there are some people in the world who don’t particularly care about Star Wars, but even they have heard about this near miraculous event. It’s been this enormously huge deal for years in the making, international headlines, and when it really comes down to it, this movie doesn’t really matter, not even a little bit. It’s a movie. It’s great storytelling. It’s a huge part of our culture, but it’s still just a movie. By the way, I’ll deny having said that if anyone asks later.
On the other side of things, you’ve got the most important news ever in the birth of Jesus. God became human and lived among us. The light which casts out all darkness condescended to be one of us, and almost no one knew it. On the scales of life, Jesus…is kind of a bigger deal than Star Wars, and yet there was almost no anticipation for his birth. Mary and Joseph knew. That’s it. Mary was seen as a no good young woman, possibly cheating on her fiancé, and Joseph was seen as the chump who stuck with her. Most people in their family probably weren’t even overly excited about the birth of this scandalously conceived child.
Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin, didn’t even know, until Mary came to see her for the big reveal party. As soon as Mary spoke, the baby in Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy because he somehow recognizes that the God of the universe is dwelling a few feet away in Mary’s womb. Elizabeth is then informed by the Holy Spirit that Mary is pregnant and that the baby in her womb is not some bastard, but God himself. Kind of a big deal for a baby’s existence and sex to be given by divine revelation, and even still, we’re only up to three people and a baby-in-the-womb who know about Jesus and his divine nature.
Admittedly, there was an angel fanfare birth announcement to some shepherds on the night Jesus was born, but international fame and previews so widely viewed that they broke the internet didn’t exactly precede God’s arrival. God chose to come humbly and quietly.
God did not choose to be a king or someone whom anyone had to serve or obey when he became human. No one had to follow him. No one had to obey him. Folks flocked to him, however, not because of his lofty station, but simply because of who he was. People loved Jesus.
Unless of course Jesus seemed to threaten someone’s station or power, then they weren’t overly enamored of him. Even still, Jesus didn’t take their power by destroying anything. He used words to call people out for their hypocrisy or misdeeds, sure, but he staged no coups. Just like how Mary sang of God, Jesus scattered the proud, brought down the powerful, and lifted up the lowly. Those in power before Jesus were largely in the same position of power after Jesus, but their power was diminished because those under them believed in Jesus instead of them. Folks only have power if other folks are willing to do what they say, and Jesus exposed the powerful as charlatans: denouncing the scribes and Pharisees, out arguing the lawyers, etc.
Jesus had power not by lording his power over others, but by loving others, by being who he was, and by lifting up those who had fallen down. Jesus had power because he offered people grace. He taught and guided people to love God and to love each other, and then he offered grace when people fell short. This was no process to gain followers and influence people; it was not a habit of a highly effective messiah. Jesus wasn’t trying to get power. He was simply being who he was: loving, teaching, and full of grace.
Jesus showed us, therefore, by his humble origins and divine grace-filled self that we don’t have to be powerful and perfect. We don’t have to be our best self now. We need to be who we are, strive to love, and give and receive grace. In other words, we simply need to be God’s children, Jesus’ brothers and sisters.
Look at Mary and Elizabeth. Mary was not a super human. There was no immaculate conception. The virgin birth refers to Jesus’ birth. The Immaculate Conception refers to Mary’s conception. Church theologians became obsessed with sin and sin management and had to come up with a way that during the nine months Jesus in Mary’s womb, he wasn’t stained by original sin passed on to him through her. Kinda silly, right. Theologians had invented the doctrine of original sin, the stain of which passes to all humans through the act of conception, and other theologians were actually worried that Jesus would be sinful, being born of a woman’s womb, the stain passed on to him. So, they invented the doctrine of the immaculate conception, that Mary, through the grace of Jesus, was conceived without the stain of original sin: a clean conception. That way, no sin passed to Jesus through Mary’s womb.
How ridiculous! They went well beyond scripture in order to manage sin, and missed the point of Jesus’ incarnation in the first place. Mary was flawed, just like every other human ever. Jesus was pleased to be born of a regular, normal woman, with a regular, normal womb. Another woman, a regular normal woman, was the first person whom the Holy Spirit granted knowledge of Jesus. As most stories or important events would have gone, it should have been the men-folk, the important members of society, who knew about Jesus through divine messenger, but God doesn’t look at importance the way we do. Who needed to know about Jesus? Important people? No. His mom, his dad, and his cousin needed to know about Jesus, his cousin who would, 30 years later, prepare for his ministry through baptism and leading people to repentance.
The important people in our world didn’t need to know that God had become human and was living among us, at least not until Jesus began his ministry. God didn’t need that kind of fame and notoriety. Just like every other baby born, the little boy Jesus didn’t need fame and notoriety. He didn’t need to be recognized as great. He needed to be known as beloved son by his parents. That was the identity that truly mattered.
God has a way of constantly challenging our notions of what is important. Riches, power, pride: these things don’t matter. In fact they can often be harmful, otherwise God would not send the rich away empty, bring down the powerful, and scatter the proud. Far from being mean, however, God is reversing these fortunes because, we aren’t blessed by pride, riches, and power beyond our needs.
Consider the rich man who asked Jesus what he needed to do to inherit eternal life. He was super rich and he was empty. He knew his wealth wasn’t supplying what we truly wanted. He knew something was missing. Unfortunately, his attachment to his wealth kept him bound to his possessions, so when he refused to give away what he had and give to the poor, Jesus sent him away empty…wealthy, but empty.
We’re not blessed through riches and power beyond our needs. We’re blessed through having enough, through loving, and through being loved. We’ll still find ourselves jealous of those who have more stuff than we do, who seem to have it easier than we do, such is our nature, always wanting more power over the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. But alas, the power to master our fortunes is often the path to the Dark Side, and not only in a galaxy far, far away. Seeking the power to master our fortunes is not the way of Jesus.
Truth, love, grace, these were the powers of Jesus. A constant giving away of power, giving away truth, giving love, giving grace, these were Jesus’ greatest powers. Jesus, being God, did have the power truly to master his fortune. He had power over slings, arrows, and even the cross, and yet he gave away that power and let his fortune rest squarely in the hands of humanity.
Even as a baby, God let his fortune rest in the womb and then the arms of a regular young woman named Mary. God trusted his power and his life with her. How beloved we are of God. He still trusts us. He trusts us each with the power he has given us, and he trusts us to give that power away, trusts us to seek his glory, not our own. Rather than forcing us to do his will, God trusts us give away truth. God trusts us to give love. God trusts us to give grace. It’s neither showy nor powerful as the world counts power, nor as the dark side counts power, but truth, love, and grace are the powers of Jesus, the powers with which he trusts us, his beloved. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 3 Advent, Year C December 13, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Luke 3:7-18
You Were Serious About That?
Last Friday at a Lions meeting, we heard a presentation from Jason Coleman who has begun a new farm here in Bay City called Moonbow Farms. In college, he got a degree in sustainable farming which seeks to combine best practices for financial, communal, and environmental sustainability. He talked about making a living at farming to provide for his family and doing so in a way that also brought the most benefit to the surrounding community and to the surrounding environment. One thing in particular he said about sustainable agriculture stuck with me. He said a person could manage his farm in a way to earn 50 or $100,000 more, but that he didn’t really need it. So instead, his model is to spend more on his workers and on his methods. He won’t make as much money as he could, so that the community around him benefits more.
Thinking back on that now, I see that is a man who has taken to heart John’s teaching about bearing fruits worthy of repentance. I don’t know that John’s words were actually on his mind, but he embodied exactly what John was talking about: nothing heroic, just a regular guy doing his best for his family and looking out for those around him at the same time.
Notice that in Luke’s Gospel, John was not talking to religious leaders; he was talking to everyone when he said, “You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Everyone is called to bear fruit worthy of repentance. Then, when the people ask what to do, John gives very simple tasks.
Don’t keep more than you need…whether food, money, clothing, whatever it is, give to others your excess. Don’t cheat people. Be honest in your business dealings, and don’t strive to get more than you need. You may be able to earn tens of thousands more, but don’t do so. Rather, give a better wage to your workers. Be satisfied with what you have and don’t strive, at the expense of others, to get more than you need or have.
That’s kinda simple, and it leads to a joyful world and way of life. I’d argue that if the highest paid people in our country chose to earn less and chose to have their lower paid employees earn more, we’d have less violence, anger, and division in our country than we do. There would be more rejoicing. That’s the Kingdom of God, the way of life which John the Baptist proclaimed would bear fruit worthy of repentance, the way of life which prepares the way for Jesus.
Unfortunately for most folks, it is also a way of life that is frightfully difficult. If only John had demanded something herculean, some enormous quest or task. Then we could have a goal and come up with ways of achieving that goal, and we could be proud of ourselves for having accomplished some awesome task. That’s probably what his hearers were expecting. Then, they heard they were simply supposed to live their lives, caring for others more and living with less. That’s actually harder than a quest.
Giving up what we don’t need and being content with what we have makes us place our faith in God rather than our efforts and our stuff. Giving up what we don’t need and being content with what we have makes us give up some of our power and control, not an easy task being that behind humanity’s fall in the Garden of Eden was a desire for power and control. John calls us to one of the most difficult quests we could have: “give up power and control and place your faith in God, oh and by the way,” John said, “this will be made apparent not in your religious life, but in your economic life.”
“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” (James 1:27) We can’t separate our economic life from our commitment to Jesus and his Gospel. As Jesus taught in Luke 12, “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Luke 12:34) A good question we could ask ourselves is, “am I spending my money the way Jesus would want it spent?”
On the other side of this coin, of course, both John and Jesus are telling their listeners to live lives of great joy. If you believe in what John said, if you believe in what Jesus taught, there is great joy in giving up our stuff for the sake of those who don’t have enough. “Rejoice in the Lord always,” Paul wrote in his letter to the Philippians, “again I will say, rejoice!” Following John’s way of preparing for Jesus is not intended to leave us sad, morose, or resentful. John’s way is meant to leave us with great joy.
“Trust me,” Jesus tells us in Luke 9:24, “if you truly want to live a life of joy and peace, then you need to give up control of your life; give your life away, and you will find your life in me.” That’s the paradox of the Gospel, but a paradox that deep down, I believe we all know to be true. Give away what you have for the sake of those who don’t have enough. This may not seem fair, some of our hearts would tell us, but Jesus didn’t care about fairness, he cared about people. Remember the parable of the workers in the vineyard who all got paid for a full day’s work, even those who only worked an hour? Regardless of only being able to work an hour, those workers still needed a full day’s wage to have enough to put food on the table. That’s life in God’s kingdom, where we give up fairness and control for the sake of people having enough.
In the U.S. we have about 5% of the world’s population, yet we use about 1/3 of the world’s resources. This hurts everyone, not only those without, but those who have in abundance. Shane Claiborne wrote in Red Letter Revolution, Surplus not only hurts the poor but also those who are rich. In the Gospels, it’s interesting that the rich man starts by asking Jesus about how to find life. If you look at the richest corners of the world, they have the highest rates of loneliness, suicide, and depression.
Salvation, for many, comes by giving their stuff away. This is not what they must do to earn salvation. Giving away their stuff, bringing enough to others and being released from the hold their possessions have on them does not earn salvation; it is salvation. It’s life in Jesus’ kingdom. That’s why, when John was asked how people are supposed to prepare for Jesus’ coming, he told them to stop putting their trust in their money and their things. Stop striving to get more than you need. Give away what you don’t need so that others may have enough. Realize also, we’re going to fall short of John’s command. Our stuff, our notions of fairness, our desires for more, and our fears of not being able to do without, can have a tight hold on us. We keep striving. We take John seriously; we assume he really did mean it, that we really do prepare ourselves for Jesus by having less and giving more.
Then, we lay our lives at the feet of Jesus’ grace. Keep striving, keep failing, and let not our failures turn us away from Jesus. If we feel shamed by John’s words, then we definitely need to place ourselves square into Jesus’ grace. Remember Jesus prays, “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they are doing.” We place ourselves in Jesus’ grace and then we let Jesus’ grace transform our hearts.
Don’t keep more than you need…whether food, money, clothing, whatever it is, give to others your excess. The grace of Jesus. Don’t cheat people. Be honest in your business dealings, and don’t strive to get more than you need. The grace of Jesus. You may be able to earn tens of thousands more, but don’t do so. Rather, give a better wage to your workers. Be satisfied with what you have and don’t strive, at the expense of others, to get more than you need or have. The grace of Jesus.
As Lutheran pastor, Nadia Bolz-Weber wrote about the repentance and the grace of Jesus: This is it. This is the life we get here on earth. We get to give away what we receive. We get to believe in each other. We get to forgive and be forgiven. We get to love imperfectly. And we never know what effect it will have for years to come. And all of it…all of it is completely worth it. – Nadia Bolz-Weber, Accidental Saints Amen.
Brad Sullivan 2 Advent, Year C December 6, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Baruch 5:1-9 Luke 3:1-6
Title
It’s the second Sunday of Advent, as we prepare for Christmas. We have 19 days to go until the big event. Are any of y’all tired yet? Tired from all of the busyness going on in December, the shopping, the decorating, the parties, and burning the candle at both ends? Are y’all also tired of hearing about mass shootings and tired of living in fear? I am. I’m tired of the violence, the heartache, and of wondering if such a shooting will happen here.
Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. These words we heard from Baruch this morning are words of comfort during fearful times. They remind me of the God we worship, that God has not abandoned us. God is constantly calling us to take off the garment of our sorrow and affliction and to put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. The words of Baruch give us assurance that God is ultimately in control, that God will care for us forever in the beauty of his glory. That is the God whom we worship, God who is intimately connected with our world and with our lives. God knows the pain of those killed, because he was killed, crucified by all of humanity. God knows the pain of those whose family members were killed, because he watched as humanity killed Jesus, even as Jesus prayed, “Father forgive them.” Such is the God whom we worship.
Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. These words remind us who God is and these words comfort us, but these words are also more than words of comfort, they are words of action. Taking off the garment of our sorrow and affliction is not simply ignoring problems or to having a warm feeling in our hearts that all is well when all is not well. Baruch’s words call us to action, and Baruch’s words call us up short. They remind us of how far our lives and our society are from living the beauty of the glory of God.
This is not a time for shame or to think we’re terrible. We’re supposed to be called up short by these words. We’re supposed to have our hearts burn within us, to examine our lives, and to make a turn toward God. Let’s face it, there are plenty of ways each of us live that are not of God. During Advent, we’re reminded that we’re preparing for Jesus’ coming.
When John came to prepare the way for Jesus and to proclaim his coming, he did so with a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. It’s rather like cleaning your house before guests arrive. You make it look nicer, and you also strive to keep it that way. It’s a new beginning.
What do you get rid of when you’re cleaning house? The old stuff that sits in a drawer and hasn’t really been used in years? Things kept for sentimental reasons but which someone else could use and which may be keeping you too much in the past? Excess and clutter? Do you reorder where things are when you clean house, making things flow better and allowing an easier time and way of living? Do you get rid of bad habits when you clean house, choosing to keep things better so life is less hectic, more calm and serene?
That’s what we’re called to do in our lives during the season of Advent: de-clutter, let go, end bad habits, live more simply, follow after God and God’s ways. For God will lead Israel with joy, in the light of his glory, with the mercy and righteousness that come from him. (Baruch 5:9) Such are God’s ways.
We’re not supposed to live in fear. Such is not the way of God. We’re not supposed to be exhausted all the time. Such is not the way of God. In Isaiah 55:2, God asks, “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” We spend so much time and money on frivolous things we don’t need, and then we end up having to de-clutter our homes to get rid of all of our excess stuff. If ever we’ve had to de-clutter, then we officially have more than we need, and we have officially been spending our money for that which is not bread and laboring for that which does not satisfy.
As we learn in Genesis 1 and 2, people are our true delight, and companionship is what we truly need. Spending time with people costs surprisingly little money. Fewer things. More time with people. Less time working so we can have more things. More time spent enjoying what we have and the people in our lives. That is what Advent is calling us to. Such a way could certainly help us to be less exhausted.
I don’t know if living more simply with less time striving for things and more time spent with people can make a difference in the violence of our world and the mass shootings we keep suffering, but I believe it can. I know that the more discontent there is in a society, the more violence there is in that society as well. The more exhaustion we feel and the greater focus we have on things rather than people, the more lost we are, the more disconnected we are from one another, and the easier it is to hurt one another.
This applies even to terrorism, because ideologies are also things. Radical Islamists have forgotten Genesis 1 and 2, have forgotten that people were made to be each others’ companions, that we were made to find our true humanity in each other. Radical Islamists have forgotten love of people and exchanged that for love of ideology. They’ve traded the glory of God for an idol, a thing made in the image of God, an ideology held so strongly that they destroy God’s beloved children.
I realize it is a bit lofty to think that our Advent repentances are going to change radical Islamists. Then again, it would have been a bit lofty to think that one man’s life, a man who was crucified by Rome as a rogue and an Israeli heretic, would change the world, but Jesus certainly did change the world. We may be small in number, but Jesus dwells within us. Believing in Jesus and following in his ways, like ripples in a pond, our lives can change the world.
Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. In Advent, we are called to repent of the ways that we strive for ever more money and things, and to strive instead for love of people. We’re called to de-clutter our lives so we are not so exhausted, and to spend instead time uniting to God and to people. Such a repentance can change the world. Such light will shine and spread, turning people’s hearts away from things and ideologies, and toward love of God and people. Such is the God that we follow, whose kingdom is like a mustard seed. It starts as a small seed, but it grows into a large tree. Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. Amen.
Brad Sullivan 1 Advent, Year C November 22, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Psalm 25:1-9 Luke 21:25-36
A World Alight With the Presence of Jesus
I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Ours was great, up in Austin with lots of family at my brother and sister-in-law’s house. As my sister-in-law, Darlene, said, “It was perfect except that Dad wasn’t there.” There were some pangs of sadness here and there, but mostly it was very joyful. Joy combined with some sadness here and there is fairly descriptive of the Advent season. Advent is the beginning of our church year, the time of preparation for Jesus’ coming. So, it is a joyful time, waiting with hopeful expectation for Jesus’ return. While Advent happens just before Christmas, we’re not really preparing for Jesus’ birth. We’re preparing for his coming again.
We wait with joy for his coming again. The same Jesus who welcomed sinners, cared for the orphan and widow, and forgave rather than condemned, that is the same Jesus who is going to return. So we wait with joy.
At the same time, Jesus points out that the time before his return, what we like to call the end times, won’t exactly be a cake walk. “People will faint with fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world.” Powers in the heavens will be shaken, the Sun, Moon, and stars, distress among the nations. This is a whole world, cosmic happening, Jesus is talking about. It sounds kind of frightening and foreboding.
Then again, we get frightening and foreboding. Distress among the nations, we know that too well. People fainting with fear and foreboding, we know that too. ISIS. Terrorism. Christians shooting theaters, schools, and pregnancy centers. Terrorism again. Wars. Rumors of wars. As I said last week, we live in a very fearful time.
The season of Advent is a season of joyful preparation, but not one in which we deny these fearful times. Jesus didn’t deny them. Instead, we walk through these fearful times with our heads high. “When you see these things begin to take place,” Jesus said, “look up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” In the ultimate end times, we’re told not to give in to fear and foreboding, but lift up our heads with hope because Jesus is drawing near.
We don’t know if the particular time of fear and foreboding in which we are living right now is the time of fear and foreboding, is the end time, but we are certainly living in an end time. Ways of life are ending as new ways are coming about. The world many of us grew up in is ending as the world that will be is coming about. In those days, Jesus said, lift up your heads. Show the light of Jesus. Stand up and raise your heads because your redemption is drawing near.
Lots of folks like to look at these passages and seek to induce fear with them. We live in the end times. Be afraid. Oooohh. It’s like some people have turned Jesus into the Bogeyman. Be afraid, Jesus is coming. That’s not really the lesson, is it? We already know fear and foreboding.
The real lesson in this passage is redemption, joy, and lifting up our heads during the bad times. “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life,” Jesus said. Make sure your hearts are not weighed down with worry. Do not let your hearts be weighed down with fear and foreboding. Lift up your heads. Be joyful. In times of darkness, be the light of Jesus in what you do, in what you say, in what you believe.
Now, I’m about to seemingly do a 180, but I’m really not. Jesus did say that the fear and foreboding came not only from what was, but from what was coming. The fear and foreboding was because Jesus was coming. That doesn’t make him the Bogeyman.
What is coming is what we prayed about in Psalm 25. “Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation.” “Let none who look to you be put to shame; let the treacherous be disappointed in their schemes.” Ok, fear and foreboding for the treacherous. “Let me not be humiliated, nor let my enemies triumph over me.” Ok, fear and foreboding for your enemies (who might be praying the same thing about you).
What’s coming in Psalm 25? “Gracious and upright is the LORD; therefore he teaches sinners in his way.” That’s what’s coming. God does not delight in destruction, in the death of sinners. “He guides the humble in doing right and teaches his way to the lowly.” (Psalm 25:8) Admittedly for some, this won’t be good news. Some don’t want to be guided. Some don’t want to do what is right, don’t want to follow in God’s way. Some don’t want to be lowly enough to be guided. For them, Jesus’ coming may not be good news. Jesus was never overly pleased with those who placed themselves as high above others and perverted justice and mercy. So, for some, his coming won’t be good news.
In other words, Psalm 25 is very good news, except for those who choose for it not to be. Advent, then, is for us to proclaim and live that good news. There is a better way than the violence, fear, and foreboding that we know too well. There is the world alight with Jesus’ presence. “Do not be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.” If you are, you won’t notice Jesus everywhere around you.
“Be alert at all times,” Jesus said, “praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”
Strength to stand before the Son of Man is about acknowledging our sinfulness, and letting God teach us in his ways. God’s ways are like Jesus’ ways to welcome sinners, to care for the orphan and widow, and to forgive rather than condemn. That is going on all around us. Jesus is here, all around us. Strength to stand before the Son of Man means we are aware of Jesus around us and that we are strong in the ways of the Son of Man. That is what Advent is about, taking time to open our hearts and eyes to a world alight with Jesus’ presence, even amidst dark times of fear and foreboding.
During dark times of fear and foreboding, Jesus says, “don’t worry, for I am coming.” During dark times of fear and foreboding, don’t worry, because in truth, Jesus is already here. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 29, Year B November 22, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX John 18:33-37
Risk & Compassion: Demands of Jesus’ Kingdom
Last week, Lynette, our senior warden, shared with me a video of a testimony given by Travis Tinnin. Travis just passed away a couple of days ago. Some of y’all know him. He grew up here in Bay City and had a wife and two-year-old twin boys. Travis had had complications at birth and wasn’t expected to live, but he did. Then he wasn’t expected to walk, but he did. He lived with the cancer for longer than expected, and had children he wasn’t supposed to be able to have, and in his testimony, given about 4 years ago, he talked about the trust he has in Jesus. He said: Trust is agreeing to deal with someone else’s choices, for better or worse. It’s not that I trust you to catch me. It’s that I’m willing to fall if you don’t. In the same way, I trust God with my life. I don’t trust that he’ll heal me. I trust that he’ll use me to fulfill his perfect will. - Travis Tinnin
I think it’s safe to say, Travis trusted Jesus as his king, and now knows him fully as his king.
We live in a very fearful time. We are not currently persecuted for being Christians here in America, but after the attacks in France last weekend, and the potential of thousands of Syrian refugees coming into our country, the possibility of persecution seems to some like a potential reality. What if enough Muslims come here that they do take over and do change our laws? What if enough come that terrorists come too, and we actually start being killed for being Christian (or simply not the correct` terroristic brand of Muslim)? These are questions which folks have been wondering about and wrestling with to some degree or another since September 11, 2001.
Some folks are pretty adamant that such killings and persecution will happen and want all Muslims to go. Others don’t voice these questions, possibly having them only in the deepest places of their hearts. Many are somewhere in between, wondering, “What is right?” Wrestling with “What do we do?” Many don’t want to brand all Muslims as terrorists, don’t want to assume that all Muslims seek to subjugate our population under Muslim rule, and yet many also wonder, can we risk not assuming the worst.
We live in a very fearful time. The people of Israel, living in the first century also lived in a very fearful time. They faced potential and often actual persecution by Rome, even as they got to live with some measure of autonomy. They were afraid that their nation would be destroyed by Rome, as eventually it was. They were afraid that they would have to choose to abandon their faith or abandon their lives.
In such a fearful time, Jesus stood before the Roman governor, Pilate, as Pilate asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” If Jesus said “Yes,” then he was an insurrectionist, seeking to take the throne from Herod. If he said “No,” then he’d have denied who he was. Further, people had been saying that Jesus was the king, so if the chief priests and the Pharisees didn’t turn Jesus over to Pilate, then could have been seen as complicit in his insurrection, and they knew Rome wouldn’t have that. Finally, Jesus’ disciples knew that if they were caught with Jesus, then they too would likely have been killed as fellow insurrectionists and blasphemers. It’s easy to look back and think, “What cowards,” as they ran away and had Jesus killed, but the reality is, they were living in a very fearful time.
So too with us, we seem rather quick nowadays to label others as “coward” or “naïve”, as “heartless” or “brainless”. We want to follow Jesus as our king, and we’re also afraid. When some say that we should allow Syrian refugees or any refugees into America, others are frightened by that, even just by hearing it. Of course they are. We live in a very fearful time. When others hear folks say that we can’t let Syrian refugees in, they blast those folks, saying that they are not living as disciples of Jesus. While I personally think the Gospel does tell us to let the refugees come in, I also think we live in a very fearful time, and we’d be better off having compassion and love for each other as we talk about these different possibilities. I think we’d be better off honoring each others’ fears and honoring each others’ desires to live out the Gospel of Jesus.
“Love one another,” Jesus commands in John 13. Love one another, not just those who are perfect or right. Love one another. Paul sums up Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness in Colossians 3, writing, “Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.” The Gospel demands that we have compassion and love for one another.
The Gospel also demands that we risk. In John 15, Jesus says, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Again, in Mark 8, Jesus tells his disciples, “Those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” Jesus guarantees that we will face persecution because of our faith. Jesus guarantees that living out his Gospel will be risky. To live out Jesus’ Gospel is to risk our good name, our fortunes, our family and friends’ thoughts of us, our physical well-being, and even our lives.
Love one another, and risk for the sake of the Gospel are some of the truths which Jesus spoke. That’s one thing Jesus came to do, to speak the truth. In response to Pilate asking Jesus if he was a king, Jesus said, “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”
Love one another, and risk for the sake of the Gospel, Jesus’ voice tells us. Jesus’ voice tells us not to be afraid. Jesus’ voice tells us tells us to confess him as God son both in what we say and in what we do. Jesus’ voice also tells us to forgive, just as he forgave those who fell into fear, forgot their love, and denied him. Jesus voice tells us to feed his sheep, and with the risk involved, Jesus’ voice also tells us that he goes to prepare a place for us in his Father’s house. That’s because in our Baptism, we have already died. We’ve shared in Jesus’ death, and we therefore share in his resurrection. That is why Jesus tells us “be not afraid,” because amidst all the kingdoms of the earth, the only Kingdom that really matters is Jesus’ kingdom. His kingdom is not from here, but his kingdom is lived out here. Whenever we love one another, Jesus’ kingdom is lived out here. Whenever we risk for the sake of the Gospel, whenever we care for the poor, the needy, the homeless, even the refugee, Jesus’ kingdom is lived out here.
In Jesus’ kingdom, we don’t live every man for himself. In Jesus’ kingdom, we care for each other in radical ways. In Jesus’ kingdom, we know we can risk not only because we share in his death and resurrection, but also because in Jesus’ kingdom, we care for one another as Jesus cared for his disciples and asked them to care for him. As Jesus was dying on the cross, he told the disciple whom he loved, “My mom is now your mom. Take care of her for me.” Jesus knew that he could risk death because he knew that disciple would care for his mom after he was gone. That disciple took her into his home and cared for her as for his own mom. “Live the way of my kingdom,” Jesus says, “trust in me, and be not afraid.”
We live in a very fearful time, and in this fearful time, Jesus is still telling us, “Be not afraid.” “Don’t trust that I will catch you. Be willing to fall if I don’t. Don’t trust me to protect me from every harm. Trust me to use you to fulfill my perfect will.” In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 27, Year B November 8, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Mark 12:38-44
“Give, Give!” (yes, it’s sarcastic)
“Give, give! Give, give! Give, give! Give, give, give, give!” That was a song that a comedy group in Houston called “Radio Music Theater” used to sing. They were a group of three comedians who wrote and starred in plays in which they all played multiple characters, and the “give give song” was from a collection of their shows in which three of the characters were Televangelist Jiffy Dillard and his faithful cohort of heartstring pulling, Bible thumping profiteers.
They didn’t talk much about the grace of Jesus, mostly just about “wicked, wicked sin,” and the need of people to give so that with the power of Jesus, Jiffy Dillard could fight the wicked, wicked sin.
Give. Give till it hurts. Give ‘cause God needs your money. Give because you’ve got the wicked, wicked sin, and if you give, then we can minister, and God will love you more…he’ll dislike you less. We’ve heard it all before, haven’t we? Truth be told, Jewish folks living a couple of millennia before us had heard it all before too.
“The widow’s mite”, or “the widow’s offering” – that’s the popular title given to our Gospel story today, and we all know what I’m supposed to say about this story. The widow had very little and yet she still gave her two copper coins (all that she had to live on). She gave them to the treasury, to the temple. Realizing that what she gave was a drop in a lake considering the financial burden of the temple, Jesus says she gave more than those wealthy folks who gave large sums of money. So, I’m supposed to raise her up as an example of faith in God and encourage everyone here to contribute to our common life here at St. Mark’s; even if you only have a little bit, give what little you have, show how faithful you are, and God can do great things with it. He’ll probably also like you a little better.
I think such an interpretation of today’s Gospel passage, minus the part about God liking you better if you give, such an interpretation certainly has merit to it, but I don’t think that is the lesson Jesus was teaching. He had just blasted the Scribes for their long robes and prayers, making sure they looked good and righteous in front of everybody, and Jesus had blasted them for devouring widows’ houses.
We don’t know exactly what that means, but we can surmise that they were pulling a bit of a Jiffy Dillard on folks, calling on everyone to “give, give” so that they could fight the wicked, wicked sin. In ancient Israel, the poor didn’t have to give; they could if they wanted to out of their love of God and their love of the religion. The scribes, however, look like they were demanding, cajoling, enticing as much money out of the widows as they could. “God needs it, guys, you better give.” So Jesus is calling the scribes hypocrites. They were teaching the people, “you’ve got to give (so we can look really religious and God will be less angry with you)”, and they were forgetting the teachings of God in scripture. God cares for the orphan and widow. God doesn’t desire temple sacrifice. Let justice role, defend the orphan and widow. Let your sacrifice be a heart full of love for all people.
The religious leaders seem to have forgotten those teaching and were following the words of God that made themselves look important and needed in the eyes of the people. They were forgetting the words of the prophets before them. Care for my people, God said. Care for my people; those are the sacrifices I want you to make.
So Jesus is teaching this, and pointing out how the scribes are missing the boat, and just after Jesus points out the fault in the scribes’ way, God highlights Jesus’ message by sending this poor widow to give all she had to live on for the sake of the temple. How awesome is God at this point, sending the widow right then, saying to Jesus, “That’s a great lesson, Son, let me give you a little exclamation point on that!”
I’m guessing folks are wondering, “so are we supposed to give to the church or not?” Well, we’re not “giving to the church,” as though it is something other than ourselves. We’re not giving to someone else’s ministry. We’re contributing to our common life here at St. Mark’s. Should we contribute to our common life? Well, if we want a building to come together and pray in, yeah.
That’s not giving to God’s ministry as though it is separate from ourselves. Deciding that we want a common life together and contributing to that life financially is a blessed thing and a wonderful way to be and to live together. We pray with and for each other. We share our faith. We the joys of our lives and our sorrows together. We share Jesus with one another.
Does that mean we are supposed to contribute every last dime we have? Well, I supposed if we all lived in the same house and shared cars and food, then sure, but we don’t. Are we supposed to look at the widow in our Gospel story and feel like compared to her we are terrible, faithless people? No. I don’t think that’s the point of the story.
We don’t function and live for the sake of our religion. Our religion, the practices of our faith, the ways of the Episcopal church, function for our sake. In pointing out the widow in the story today, Jesus is once again showing us God’s grace. Contra all the Jiffy Dillards out there, God’s grace is not that if we give enough to make our religion rich and mighty then God will forgive us of our sins and dislike us a little less.
God’s grace is that he loves us, period. God’s grace is that he forgives us, period. God knows we mess us. God’s knows it’s hard to be human. God knows we are bound by our sin, feeling shame and regret over the things we’ve done which have hurt people and hurt ourselves. God’s grace is that he loves us, with all that crud, and he frees us from it, taking our sin, holding it for us, and saying, “you are beloved.” God’s grace is that he cares for those we often forget to care about, and he then reminds us to care for those people as well.
God does tell us to give, give. Give, give the grace that you have received. Give, give the love with which you are loved. Give, give the forgiveness with which you have been forgiven. Give, give the thoughtfulness, the care, and concern which God gives even and especially to those we often forget. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 25, Year B October 25, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Mark 10:46-52
“Wrong Kingdom,” Jesus Said.
We heard in Mark’s Gospel this morning, that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem by way of Jericho. Y’all remember a rather famous story involving Jericho and a young man named Joshua who led the Israelites to glorious victory against the people of Jericho. Joshua fought the battle of Jericho, and the walls came tumbling down. That was the beginning of Israel’s conquest of the land of Canaan, the land which God had promised to Israel through Abraham. Eventually, Israel conquered all of the land of Canaan and set up their capital in Jerusalem where David reigned as king.
Now, we have Jesus, the son of David, going to Jerusalem by way of Jericho. Interestingly enough, Jesus’ name in Hebrew is Joshua: Jeshua, Iesus, Jesus. So we have Jesus, who is the new Joshua and the new Davidic king going to Jerusalem by way of Jericho, and yet his actions are decidedly different from his predecessors. Jesus doesn’t conquer Jericho; he heals a blind man there. Jesus doesn’t set up his kingdom in Jerusalem by winning military victory over his enemies; he lets his enemies kill him.
Jesus was inaugurating his new kingdom, God’s kingdom here on earth, and he did so through peace and healing rather than through war and killing. Jesus gave his life for the sake of his people. Jesus’ kingdom is not one of domination, but of service, of giving up one’s life for the sake of others.
That sounds good in theory, doesn’t it? With so many school shooting lately, I’ve heard and been a part of several conversations regarding what we would do if a gunman came to wherever. Some say they would profess their faith if it meant being shot. Some say they wouldn’t. Some plan on having a gun with them to shoot the bad buy, while others say the way of Jesus is not to kill, but to lay down one’s life for the sake of the Gospel.
I used to have my very clear answer worked out: I’m a disciple of Jesus, so I’d let myself be killed. I had an easier time with that prior to being a father and a husband. Now, my faith in Jesus tells me not to kill, but to show even the gunman love by valuing his life more than he values mine, but I also think, “I don’t want to leave my kids without a dad.” There’s a conflict between what I believe Jesus teaches about life in his kingdom and my fear for my children’s well being. I believe good would come from following Jesus’ teaching to lay down one’s life for the sake of the Gospel. I trust that. I have a hard time trusting that my kids will be ok without me.
That makes me a bit hypocritical. Another question has come up along the same lines as the gunman question. Can we truly be a church of Jesus’ disciples and also own guns as means of safety? Can we claim to follow Jesus while intending, in certain scenarios, to kill people? Does that make us hypocrites? Maybe, yeah, it might just make us hypocrites. The truth is, we’re all hypocrites, and we’re all striving to be less and less so. The bigger problem is not being a hypocrite, but in not realizing the ways in which we are one.
In healing Bartimaeus, Jesus highlights again the point he made to James and John. “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45).
See, Bartimaeus’ request of Jesus was in stark contrast to James’ and John’s request of Jesus just before this. James and John were unaware of any healing they might have actually needed (and we all need healing of some kind). Instead, James and John asked for power and position in God’s kingdom. After years of learning from Jesus, their request was not, “Lord help me follow you more nearly,” or “let me serve others more compassionately.” Their request was, “make me powerful and mighty.” Make me like Joshua and David of old. “Wrong kingdom,” Jesus said.
Bartimaeus’ blindness highlights James’ and John’s spiritual blindness, emotional blindness, discipleship blindness. They thought they had it together enough to request power and authority in Jesus’ kingdom, but they were blind to what Jesus’ kingdom was; they were blind to what they needed. Bartimaeus knew not only that he needed to see, but once he could see, he knew he wanted to follow Jesus. While Bartimaeus’ ailment was rather obvious to him, this passage highlighting the spiritual blindness of James and John reminds us of how often we fail to recognize or fail to admit what our ailments are and what healing we need from Jesus.
What if Bartimaeus hadn’t admitted he was blind? He was calling for Jesus and then when Jesus asked “what do you want me to do for you?”, what if Bartimaeus had said, “oh, I’m really ok, I’ve just got a head cold right now, or it’s probably just allergies or something; do you have a Benadryl, or any…you know what, it’s ok, I’m sorry I bothered you.” He’d have stayed just as he was and just where he was. He couldn’t follow Jesus until he admitted what was obvious, that he was a mess and needed healing.
That’s kinda what we do sometimes, when we don’t admit to ourselves or to one another, or to Jesus that we even have problems. We stay just as we are and we stay just where we are. Sometimes it’s just too tough or scary to give up our life, right? If I admit to Jesus or even to myself that this part of my life needs fixing, and if I ask Jesus to fix it, well then I really do have to fix it with Jesus’ help. I might have to give up some part of my life. That’s what Jesus calls us to do, to give up our lives and follow him. As Shane Claiborne wrote in Red Letter Revolution, subtitled What If Jesus Really Meant What He Said, “Jesus didn’t come for folks who have it all together, but for folks who are willing to admit they are falling apart.” (Shane Claiborne, Red Letter Revolution, p. 29)
Jesus came for folks willing to admit where our hypocrisies are. As Christian author and sociology professor, Tony Campolo, says when people claim he’s a hypocrite, “yeah, I am a hypocrite. Come to my church, you’ll fit right in.” He doesn’t mean this in a snarky way, but in an honest open invitation kind of way. We’re all hypocrites in some way. Ultimately, hypocrites are the only people that need to come to church. The ones who do are the ones who know they are blind and are asking Jesus to heal them. We pray to Jesus, “grant us the faith and the peace to know what is right and good in your Kingdom, and give us the grace and strength then to live out your kingdom way.”
Regarding “what would we do” scenarios with gunmen…ultimately, we have no idea what we’d do. We don’t know how our brains would react. Peter knew he would kill for Jesus. As Jesus was being arrested, Peter even started to, pulling out his sword to fight and kill for Jesus. “Put away your sword,” Jesus said. Peter was willing to lay down his life, sword in hand, in battle. Then he found that he wasn’t willing to risk laying down his life by being arrested and killed without the chance of fighting back. Of course years later, he did lay down his life, acquitting himself quite well, being crucified for following Jesus.
So what is our “lay down our life” plan? Let someone kill us for the sake of Jesus Kingdom, for the sake of being a servant of peace? Yes, I believe that should be my plan. If the gunman scenario ever happens, then I’ll find out what I’ll do. In the mean time, we all have plenty of chances to give up our lives for the sake of Jesus’ kingdom. We have plenty of chances to sacrifice, to be servants, to let the needs of others come before our own needs. We have plenty of chances to ask Jesus to heal us, and to give up those portions of our lives that keep us from living out Jesus’ Gospel. We have plenty of chances every day to shine the light of the Gospel into the lives of those around us. So we pray, “Lord Jesus have mercy on us sinners not only by healing our blindness and hypocrisies, but by showing us where our blindness and hypocrisies lie; grant us the faith and the peace to know what is right and good in your Kingdom, and give us the grace and strength then to live out your kingdom way.” Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 24, Year B October 18, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Job 38:1-7, (34-41) Mark 10:35-45
“Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind: ‘Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?’” Prior to this, Elihu, one of Job’s friends had been defending God to Job. Job and his friends all had a pretty basic understanding of the universe and the causal relationship between human sin and human tragedy. If something really bad happened to you, it was because you had done something really bad. Job questioned how it could be so, since he hadn’t sinned in some terrible way.
Elihu, Job’s friend, on the other hand, defended God to the hilt, telling Job how bad he was and how righteous God was. There was no compassion with Elihu, or very little. There was no question in Elihu’s mind that he was right. He used scripture to pack his arguments, and he gave platitudes and simple answers to Job’s misery. I think when it comes down to it, Elihu basically made himself feel better – the world was still flat, God still never allowed anything bad to happen to anyone good (and therefore Elihu was safe), and everything was in its place.
“Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” God responds. You don’t understand all that is, Elihu, nor for that matter, do you, Job. The world is far more complex and mysterious that you allow, and simple answers to complex questions don’t actually help. Thanks for trying to defend my sovereignty, God was saying, but my sovereignty really doesn’t need your defense. Try instead for some compassion towards your friend. Remember, Elihu, it’s love God and love each other, not defend God’s sovereignty at the expense of each other.
Imagine if Elihu had simply continued to sit with his friend Job, as he had when he first arrived, grieving with him, and when Job began to question, he had said, “I don’t know why all this terrible stuff happened to you, my friend. You were a really good guy, and this totally sucks. I don’t think you deserved this.” What if when Job had begun questioning God, Elihu had not been afraid to allow Job to question God? What if he had simply said, “Yeah, I get why you would questions God’s fairness right now; it doesn’t seem right what happened to you. I love you Job, and I’m with you.” What if Elihu had been willing to question and wonder with Job? They may not have become so entrenched in being right that they ended up “darkening counsel by words without knowledge.”
We’re going through a difficult time right now in the Episcopal Church with folks divided over a difficult issue, some folks rejoicing that marriage has been extended to include homosexual couples, and some folks deeply disturbed by the same. At the heart of this issue on both sides, is people, and people on both sides of this issue are hurting. There are people within our congregation on both sides of this issue, people we love, who are hurting.
I think one desire many of us share is for everything to be settled and done. Let’s just quiet messing with it, let’s just quit talking about it. There’s a desire just to know with absolute certainty all of the correct answers, or at least to be able to put the issues and the others out of our minds. One key lesson I find in the book of Job, however, is that the Kingdom of God desires compassion more than it desires correct answers.
Folks on both sides of this issue often don’t understand what folks on the other side of the issue are going through. Sometimes even believing on one side of the issue is hurtful to folks on the other side, and yet we often don’t see that or understand that. When people we love are going through difficult times that we don’t understand, Job teaches me that a good response might be, “I don’t quite understand what you’re going through, but I do understand that it is extremely difficult and painful for you.”
I think that might have been a response more pleasing to God that Elihu could have given to Job, compassion more than correct answers, God’s grace more than theologically righteous grandstanding. We’re reminded in Hebrews, after all, that Jesus is not unable to sympathize with us in our weakness, but knows exactly how hard it is to be human in this world. Jesus gives us grace precisely because it is so darn hard to be human in this world.
Like James and John, we often want power and glory to make our way a bit easier in the world. With enough power and glory, you can pretty well have things go the way you want them to and get people to do what you want them to do, but Jesus wasn’t offering power and glory. Jesus was offering grace.
When James and John ask in a new way for power within Jesus’ kingdom, he tells them that that place of authority and power is not his to give. That’s a pretty kind answer at that point, “sorry guys, it’s just not mine to give.” I have a feeling if it had been me, I’d have been pretty frustrated with James and John at this point. “Good Lord, guys” I might have said to James and John, “I’ve been teaching you for over a chapter of Mark’s gospel now that the kingdom of God is not about seeking power and glory, and here you two are at it again.” That’s a bit more like what the other disciples were thinking anyway. They were angry at James and John, saying, “dude, I can’t believe you tried to pull that over on us, getting power over us,” secretly thinking, “whew, glad you built up the gumption to ask before I did.”
The disciples were angry, and Jesus gave them grace. Jesus simply offered another moment of teaching for his beloved disciples. “Guys, the gentiles seek power and glory over each other, and they become tyrants over each other. That’s not who we are. Among us, greatness comes from serving each other. Among us, greatness comes from risking losing everything for the sake of the beloved. I’m not going to squander my life,” Jesus taught, “by seeking power and glory for myself. I’m going to live my life and give my life for the sake of all humanity, giving up myself for the sake of my beloved. I know how hard it is for you all, my beloved disciple, my beloved humanity,” Jesus was saying, “so I will give my life so that you may receive grace.”
We are called by Jesus to give each other that same grace. “Feed my sheep,” Jesus told Peter. Peter was a bit hurt during this conversation, remember? “Lord, you know all things,” Peter said, “You know I love you,” as Jesus asked him three times, “Do you love me.” “Then feed by sheep Jesus told Peter.” In this short exchange, Jesus showed great compassion for Peter and gave him great grace. Jesus knew Peter’s heart was breaking over denying Jesus three times, so Jesus gave Peter three opportunities to profess his love for Jesus. Rather than just keep it quiet and let Peter assume, “I guess everything’s ok; we’re having a fish fry; I guess everything is ok.” Rather than let Peter assume all was forgiven, Jesus gave Peter the grace to know that all was well.
Then, “feed my sheep,” Jesus told Peter. You don’t know everything. You get things wrong about as much as you get them right, and I want you to feed my sheep. You don’t need to be powerful and mighty, Jesus was saying in today’s Gospel. I don’t even want you to be powerful and mighty, Jesus said. I just want you to feed my sheep. I want you to serve others. I want you to give compassion to others. I want you to offer grace to others.
When we feel threatened by others, or when we are disturbed by disagreements over deeply held and difficult issues within our church, we tend to want to be able to exercise power and authority over the other, making sure things go our way. Looking at God’s response to Elihu and Job, looking at Jesus’ response to James and John, I think Jesus has taught us to feed each other with compassion, rather than with correctness. I think Jesus has taught us to offer grace to each other when we hurt each other, rather than ignoring the problem and hoping it will eventually just fade away. Grace and compassion are what Jesus gives to us, and then he tells us to feed each other with the same. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 23, Year B October 11, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Hebrews 4:12-16 Mark 10:17-31 Possessed by the Demon of Our Possessions
The movie Fight Club came out when I was in my early twenties, and like most guys in their early twenties at the time, I loved that movie. I still do, truth be told, and not because there were violent fight scenes. I loved the movie because of its sharp social commentary and its insightful critique of what we value and what is truly important to us.
Early on in the movie, Brad Pitt’s character, Tyler Durden, says, “The things you own end up owning you.” This certainly seems to be the case for the man in our Gospel story this morning who wanted to inherit eternal life, but wasn’t willing to get rid of his things in order to do so. We might think him foolish, but then the truth of the Fight Club quote comes in. “The things you own end up owning you.”
The more stuff we have, the more responsibility we feel to maintain and care for our stuff. Sometimes we find great generosity from those who have very little. They don’t have enough for their stuff to matter all that much. They don’t have enough possessions for their possessions to provide them with security or help in time of need. Rather, they rely on people, on friends and neighbors in times of need. They are focused not on maintaining their stuff, but they are focused on the people around them.
That’s what Jesus encouraged the man in our Gospel passage to do. Get rid of your stuff, and actually notice the people around you. All of your stuff is just man-made things. The people around you, they are made by God, in God’s image. You want to inherit eternal life? You want to live with God’s life dwelling in you, guiding you? You want to walk with God like Adam and Eve did? “Here’s how,” Jesus said, “get rid of all your man-made possessions that have ended up possessing you, and focus your attention on the God-made people all around you.”
After the man left, downcast because he was too possessed by his possessions, I believe Jesus pitied him. How hard it will be for people who are possessed by their possessions to enter the Kingdom of God, to want to live with God’s life dwelling in them, guiding them, and to walk with God in this life like Adam and Eve did. How hard it will be for people who rely on their possessions rather than rely on each other. Jesus pitied the man who went away, remaining possessed by the demon of his possessions rather than following Jesus’ advice and asking Jesus’ help to cast out that demon.
So the, Jesus taught his disciples again about the first being last and the last being first in God’s kingdom. The first time Jesus mentioned this was when the disciples were arguing about which of them was the greatest, and Jesus showed them a little child and told them, “whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”
In the kingdom of God, don’t seek power, Jesus was telling them, but rather, like a child, seek to acknowledge and live out your dependence upon other people. Of course as adults, we have a much higher level of independence than children, and yet we are still made to be interdependent with each other. God made Eve to be the helper and support of Adam. Realizing humans can’t live our lives all alone, realizing that we all need help and support, God gave humans other humans to be our help and support. God gave us each other.
God’s kingdom is not found in power and wealth and stuff. God’s kingdom is found in the needs of people being filled by the love of other people. Remember Matthew 25, verses 31-46 when Jesus told the righteous that they took care of him in his times of need? “What, no, we never took care of you, Jesus. We didn’t care for anyone near so important as you. We just took care of some of the people down the road.”
Jesus then told them, that when they took care of those people down the road, they took care of Jesus. When they took care of regular old unimportant human beings, they lived out the Kingdom of God. They lived God’s eternal life when they fulfilled the needs of others.
That’s where Jesus was found, in the needs of those asking for help. That’s where eternal life is found: human need met by human love. We are meant to depend upon each other. We are meant to lower our defenses and actually ask others for help when we need it. We are meant to be vulnerable, like little children.
It is to ones such as children, Jesus said, that the kingdom of God belongs. Ones like children inherit eternal life.
Remember last week’s story, when Jesus was in a house, and the disciples were there, trying to keep a bunch of kids away from Jesus, and Jesus said, no, let the kids come, for the Kingdom of God belongs ones like these kids. In fact, you need to receive the kingdom of God, like a little kid, Jesus taught.
Now imagine if in that house where Jesus was, there were thousands of breakable or highly polished items that little fingers weren’t allowed to touch. Imagine the homeowner saying, “um, Jesus, it’s great that you like kids and all, but I’ve got a lot of nice stuff here. Those kids have got to go.” The things we own end up owning us.
Jesus didn’t seem to have a whole lot of stuff. He was so unencumbered that when a bunch of kids came up to him seeking his blessing, he didn’t think twice – sure, let the kids come, let me bless them. The kingdom of God is not about power or status or wealth. The kingdom of God is about loving people, about weakness, about needing one another, about not being self sufficient.
We can end up possessed by our possessions every bit as much as the man from Gerasa from whom Jesus cast out a legion of demons was possessed by those demons. I don’t know that we need to throw all of our possessions into a lake, like Jesus did with the demons who entered the herd of swine and rushed into the lake. We do need to break the grip that our possessions have on us. We do need to seek wholeness and security in people, rather than in stuff. We do need to be vulnerable enough allow our needs to be met by people, not by things. When we expose our needs and allow our needs to be met, Jesus is there. God’s kingdom is there. Eternal life is there. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 22, Year B October 4, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12 Mark 10:2-16
Sinners In the Arms of A Loving God
Jesus’ teaching on divorce was more than the Pharisees wanted to hear and more than Jesus’ disciples wanted to hear. The disciples were even so miffed by it that they were kinda in a bad mood afterwards, so when some kids came up they were like W.C. Fields, “Go way kid, you bother me.”
All they really heard was “divorce is bad, don’t do it,” and if that’s all we take from the Gospel today, “divorce is bad, don’t do it,” then we’re missing Jesus’ teaching. It would also be easy to say, “hmmm, but we allow divorce; we allow for resurrection after the death of a marriage…I guess we’ll just put this passage out of our minds.” Neither response takes Jesus seriously. Neither response takes seriously Jesus’ teaching, his love for us, our broken and sinful nature, and the depths of God’s grace.
Of course Jesus said not to get divorced. In marriage, the two people become one flesh. They are united body, soul, and life. In adultery, that unity is ripped apart. In divorce, that unity is ripped apart. Flesh is torn, there is blood, and the unity made in the marriage is killed. And so we need God’s grace.
We need God’s grace because some marriages should end. Sometimes the unity has been destroyed long before there is a divorce. Then we need God’s grace to heal after that tearing apart in divorce. We need God’s grace to heal. We need God’s to be reconciled. We need God’s grace to eventually trust another if we’re going to seek remarriage after divorce, and then we need God’s grace to be brave enough to remarry.
Is there any question that we need God’s grace? I need God’s grace every day when I’m not the father my kids need me to be, when I’m not the husband Kristin needs me to be, when I’m not the priest y’all need me to be. Every day, I need God’s grace. Anyone else need God’s grace every single day?
We heard in Hebrews today, “What are human beings that God cares about us?” Sometimes we might wonder, “why would he care for us?” - We’re people that kill each other randomly. We had another shooting at another school campus last week. Yet again, young people were killed randomly, their parents never to see them again. Yet again, social media was rife with people arguing for stricter gun laws and other people arguing for more guns in peoples’ hands - We’re people who often seek our own temporary happiness at the expense of others. - We’re people with bad tempers who shout and get angry and have a hard time forgiving...I’m talking about myself here. - We’re also deeply loving people who seek and desire connection with one another more than anything else on earth. - We’re kind people. - We’re people who need to cut things off or out of our lives in order to live the way of Jesus, to live lives in which we seek every day to love God and to love people. - We’re people who sacrifice at times our joy and fun for the sake of others. - We’re people who get so shaken and saddened by tragedy of people we don’t even know, that we cry to the heavens, “how long, O Lord, how long?”
What are human beings that God cares for us? God’s grace tells us that we are people who are beloved. God’s grace tells us that after a death, there is resurrection. God’s grace tells us that we are fallen and broken and we hurt one another and we hurt ourselves, and God still loves us. God’s grace tells us that he has redeemed our sins and our hurts, that Jesus has taken them all and redeemed them and turned them into his blessedness for our sake. God’s grace tells us that we are sinners in the arms of a loving God.
We try our darnedest to live well, to do the right thing, and then we mess up and sin and hurt each other, and God forgives us and blesses us, and offers us new life. Then when we continue to sin and hurt each other, God continues to forgive and bless us and offer us new life. God’s grace given to us through Jesus tells us that God is not interested in raging against us and killing us for our sins. Rather, God wants to heal us from the pain and destruction our sins cause. As Lutheran pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber said, we believe in a God, “who from cross did not even lift a finger to condemn the enemy but instead said I would rather die than be in the sin accounting business anymore.”
God is in the grace business, and so we need to take seriously our sin. We need to take seriously our sin, because without doing so, we delude ourselves into thinking that we don’t especially need God’s grace, or that we only need it once we’re dead. We don’t think that “were good” because we believe in Jesus and so we’ll go to heaven when we die. That’s not taking sin seriously. Simply saying “I’m good because I have Jesus,” leaves us blind to the pain we cause rather than leaving us healed and redeemed by God’s grace.
In order to take grace seriously, we need to take our sin seriously. It’s easy to take other peoples’ sin seriously. We rally and rant, and rail, and know what the right thing to do is and know we’re on the right side of an issue, but I’ve found that sometimes, my being on the right side of an issue is more about me being right and guarding my own righteousness than it is about actually caring for and loving other people. I may think I’m right and others are wrong, but as Bishop Doyle pointed out last week, Jesus didn’t say to cut someone else’s hand off if it causes them to sin. He said cut your hand off if it causes you to sin. Sever the behaviors within you that cause harm to yourself and others.
Then rely on God’s grace. Rely on God’s grace because God’s grace says that we mess up and harm each other, that we are broken and sinful, and yet God still calls us beloved. God’s grace says the world is terribly broken with war, and tragedy, and terrible suffering, and God will ultimately redeem all of it. God’s grace says he would rather redeem us and heal us from our sins that punish us for our sins. God’s grace says his purpose is to restore all of creation, and he invites us to join him in that work of redemption. God’s grace says that flawed as we are, we are beloved, and we are enough to join him in the work of redemption. God’s grace says that unlike Jonathan Edwards’ 1741 sermon, we are not “sinners in the hands of an angry God.” We are sinners, but we’re sinners in the arms of a loving God. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 20, Year B September 20, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Mark 9:30-37
Jesus’ disciples must have been pretty darn disillusioned and disheartened by the end of today’s Gospel. Jesus had just told them for the second time that he was going to die. This was not long after they had failed to cast a demon out of a little boy. “Why could we not cast out the demon?” They asked Jesus. He replied that the demon could only come out through prayer. Perhaps the disciples were relying on themselves and their supposed power, rather than relying on God.
So, they’ve got this question of power and greatness already brewing. Then, when Jesus told them that he was going to die and on the third day rise again, they still didn’t quite understand, at least not about him rising again after three days, but they did seem to understand that he would die because they seemed to be working on a succession plan. They were arguing about who was the greatest among them, and in light of Jesus’ declaration that he was going to die, it seems that they were trying to figure out who was going to take over once Jesus was gone. Who would be the new messiah?
They didn’t think of messiah in terms of being God’s co-eternal Son who spoke the world into existence. They were thinking of messiah in terms of military might and a king like David to drive the Romans out and conquer everybody else. To this, Jesus replied that they needed to be last of all and servant of all. Welcome a child in my name, and you welcome me. Welcome a child in my name, and you welcome God.
Well that probably didn’t make a lot of sense to them. We see children as wonderful, innocent, delightful, the apple of God’s eye. We see Jesus dwelling within all of us, so if you welcome a child you welcome God, ok we get that. I don’t think the disciples understood. “God is all powerful and mighty,” the disciples were likely thinking, “and children are not. How can welcoming a child be anything like welcoming God?”
Again, they were likely looking for Jesus to be a messiah to rule through military victory. They were wondering who among them was mighty enough to carry his mantle. Children weren’t going to win battles or rule, and so we have the disciples’ disillusionment. Rather than glorious victory, Jesus is telling them that the way of discipleship is the way of the cross, the way of Jesus’ crucifixion, and that welcoming the least important in their society was like welcoming God. Was God even mighty anymore?
In thinking about Jesus’ words about the cross, his teaching that welcoming children is like welcoming God, and his steady march toward Jerusalem and crucifixion, I thought of a lyric from Leonard Cohen’s song, Hallelujah. “Love is not a victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah.”
If only following Jesus meant victory over every battle and struggle we have, but it doesn’t. We fail, we fall short, we know defeat. We know the cold and broken Hallelujah that comes in those moments. As Jesus’ disciples, we don’t always choose or even seek victory. We seek to serve, to heal, to restore the brokenness of the world. We seek to love, but love is not a victory march.
Love, Jesus teaches comes from being like children. If you want to be great, Jesus said, then be least of all. Children were least of all, and yet he taught that welcoming a child was like welcoming God.
Children love unreservedly. They’ll abandon what they’re doing when they see someone they love in order to run over to that person, sometimes shouting with delight. Children trust. When children love and trust their parents, it takes a lot for them to lose that trust, far less than it takes adults to lose our trust in people. Children also forgive. They’ll be terribly upset with another kid one minute and playing joyfully with that same kid the next.
You really want to be great and mighty, Jesus was telling his disciples, then forget about power and might. Greatness in God’s kingdom comes from loving deeply and unreservedly. Risk opening your heart to others, opening your heart to love. Love is not a victory march. Love is risky.
To love another person means that we might not be loved back. It means letting ourselves be naked and vulnerable to another person. Letting our hearts and our souls be bare to someone else and knowing full well that we might get hurt. That is the risk of relationship. We know how to hurt those we love. We know just what to say to our spouses to tear them down. We know the things that our children fear and the things that will break their hearts.
Every day we make a choice to go out into the world either letting our heart be vulnerable or hiding it away. Hiding it away is safer and easier, but it is also not taking the risk of being loved back. Not taking the risk of letting someone else cherish us, is a life that lacks the depth of love that God intends for us to live. Risk love in this world, and live God’s kingdom.
If you really want to be great and mighty in God’s kingdom, then trust in God. You may have felt let down before when things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to. You may have felt the sting of a cold and broken Hallelujah, but continue to trust in him. Trust in God doesn’t mean we trust him to make outcomes happen how we want them to. That’s not trusting God. That’s directing God, something we’ve all probably done at times. Trusting in God means we don’t necessarily know the outcome, and choose to put our trust and faith in God anyway, realizing we are little children, and he is God.
If you really want to be great and mighty in God’s kingdom, then forgive, over and over. Forgive people. Forgive yourself. Offer forgiveness like water to people dying of thirst for our brokenness kills us every bit as surely as lack of water. In the marriage ceremony, we have a prayer for the couple which can really apply for everyone and anyone. “Make [our lives] together a sign of Christ’s love to this sinful and broken world, that unity may overcome estrangement, forgiveness heal guilt, and joy conquer despair.
Risk love, trust, and forgiveness, Jesus told his disciples. Risk facing the cross. It may not be a victory march. It may be a cold and broken Hallelujah, but it is a Hallelujah nonetheless. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 18, Year B September 6, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX James 2:1-10, (11-13), 14-17 Mark 7:24-37
Jesus didn’t want to heal a little girl who was possessed by a demon simply because she wasn’t Jewish. That’s a hard point for us to accept, and this is a difficult passage to wrestle with. Many have said that Jesus was just testing the Syrophoenician woman’s faith, and that he really intended to heal the woman’s daughter all along, but that doesn’t really seem to follow the story.
Jesus had traveled north of Israel to the region of Tyre. This was gentile country, and the woman is named as a gentile. There was no reason to test her faith. I think we can take Jesus’ dismissal of the woman on face value. “Let the children be fed first,” Jesus said, “for it is not fair to take the children’s food and feed it to the dogs.” I was sent for Israel, Jesus told her and that’s not you. Jesus didn’t want to heal the woman. She wasn’t his problem. Don’t ask me to heal you, Jesus was saying, have your little demigod idol thing heal you.
Then, Jesus healed her anyway. Jesus dismissed and insulted her, and the woman does not respond with anger, but takes his insult because her love for her daughter was greater than her pride. I think in that moment Jesus saw this woman’s humanity. No longer was she a gentile who wasn’t his problem. She was a woman and a mother who loved her daughter.
I don’t think that’s sinful on Jesus’ part. He likely grew up being told that the gentiles were not their people and not their problem. So, that’s probably what Jesus believed. Then he met the Syrophoenician woman and realized that she was part of humanity. No longer was she not his problem, and no longer was he here only for Israel, but for all mankind.
There has been an ongoing humanitarian crisis in Syria which has been growing since the uprising in 2011 aimed at ousting president Assad. Since then, civil war has engulfed the country, both sides have targeted civilians and used them as shields, and the self-proclaimed Islamic state has taken territory and begun their brutal tactics of maiming and killing Christians, Muslims, and anyone else they deem unworthy.
This has left over 11 million people displaced from their homes, and over 4 million Syrian refugees have fled the country, seeking asylum in surrounding nations and even up into Europe. The crisis of refugees has caught the world’s attention recently because of pictures of little children who died trying to escape, their bodies washing up on the shores of Greece. Folks leaving Syria said it was worth the risk because they were dead there anyway.
This may seem like it’s not our problem. It’s a world away. There are so many people here who are in need. Why give our help and our prayers to folks fleeing Syria when there’s so much to do here? It’s not our problem, but then like Jesus with the Syrophoenician woman, we eventually see their humanity and realize it is our problem. They are people, and as Body of Christ, we are called to seek and serve Christ in all persons. We’ll also find, as Jesus did, that there is more than enough help to go around.
After Jesus healed the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter, he healed a deaf man in the largely gentile region of the Decapolis, just east of Israel. We don’t know if this man was Jewish or Gentile. Maybe it didn’t matter anymore. Jesus healed him. Not long after that, Jesus multiplied food so that from enough for a couple of people he fed 5000 people. There was plenty of food to go around and plenty of food left over, crumbs enough for all the dogs under the children’s table.
While believing himself to be limited in his mission, Jesus found that his mission was not limited only to Israel, and he found that he had more than enough healing to go around. As Jesus’ body, we too have more than enough to go around. The Syrian people are fleeing the threat of death from three different armies in their country, each of which have shielded themselves behind civilians and targeted civilians. We have more than enough to help people this humanitarian crisis, which is one of the worst we’ve seen.
We can give to organizations like World Vision who are helping to provide food and shelter for Syrians fleeing their country. We can petition our government to allow more refugees into America. We can learn more about the crisis and learn about other ways to help. We can pray for the people of Syria, the refugees, those taking them in, and those in danger of dying during their travels.
Perhaps more than pray for them a few times, we may still not really want to do much to help. There’s too much to do here. It’s not our problem, but even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs. We may want to do more to help here instead, but there’s no reason why we can’t do both. As Jesus found after he healed the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter, he still had plenty left to heal a deaf man and then feed 5000 people with 5 loaves of bread and two fish. We may just find that if we give help to Syrian refugees, that there’s also a deaf man who needs healing here, or 5000 people who need food.
We have more than enough healing and resources to go around, and like Jesus, we find that people half a world away are our problem because they are human beings made in God’s image, and through Jesus, we have more than enough love to give and we have more than enough help to give. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 17, Year B August 30, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Song of Solomon 2:8-13 James 1:17-27 Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
“Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” We got to hear from the Song of Solomon today, a series of poems and writings of passionate, unabashed love, the kind of love experienced between a newly married couple on their honeymoon and a long-married couple for whom that passion and unabashed love remains. Interestingly, God is nowhere mentioned in the entire book of Song of Solomon. Many in the church have tried to allegorize Song of Solomon to make it about Jesus’ love for the church, and that’s a valid interpretation, God’s passionate love for humanity.
If we stop there, however, and don’t allow this book also to be about what it truly is, a writing about passionate love between people, we’d be missing out on some of the beauty of this writing and the beauty of the love we have as passionate, sexual people. Passionate love and even sexual desire that men and women feel for each other is part of the image of God in which we were made, and ask any newlywed, it’s a good thing.
The lovers in Song of Solomon in the passage we heard today are so in love, that once they are together, everything in the world seems beautiful. It’s spring time. There are flowers and turtledoves, figs ripe on the vine. There are beautiful scents in the air, sounds of birds chirping, not a mosquito around, and it seems as if all creation was put there by God just for the love and enjoyment of the two of them.
I’d venture to say that a lot of us have had those feelings of being so in love that it feels like every sunrise and sunset were given by God just for you and your beloved. Beautiful, blissful creation that is made by God and given for the enjoyment of just two people who are passionately and unabashedly in love sounds an awful lot like the Garden of Eden.
Far from sinful, the passionate love the man and woman in this passage helped them love creation more. They seem at peace with the world, as though the love they have for each other is going to pour out onto the world around them. Passionate and unabashed love is far from sinful, far from anything to be ashamed about. Passionate and unabashed love is our Edenic state, how God made us to be, part of the image of God in which we were made.
How do we then get from the good joy and beauty of the passionate love seen in the Song of Solomon to the church sometimes in our history teaching that sex is basically wrong and bad; in a marriage it’s ok, but even then, kinda questionable? Well, as we are no doubt aware, our desires can sometimes run amuck.
Desire run amuck is largely what Jesus is talking about when he lists some of the evil intentions that can come from the human heart: fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly. These are basically desire run amuck, desire for things and people, desire for people as things, without regard those people. Jesus’ list of vices are all ways that people gratify their own desire, regardless of the cost to others.
Fornication is sex for personal gratification, without truly honoring and deeply loving yourself or the other. It is desire run amuck. It doesn’t really bring about that deep, passionate love for each other and for all creation, such that every sunrise and sunset is made just for those two people. I very much doubt that when someone steals something that they really want, that they suddenly notice the beauty of the flowers and the chirping birds, the love and beauty of creation surrounding and blessing them.
From the beginning, when Adam and Eve decided they desired a piece of fruit more than they desired God and each other, our sin, our missing the mark, has been our desire run amuck, when we have desired things and even people as things more than we have desired true, deep, passionate love for God and each other. True, deep, passionate love not only desires the other, but also honors the other, and when we have that true, deep, passionate, mutual love that not only desires but honors, then all of creation sings.
Such passionate mutual love that not only desires but also honors is a lot of the Kingdom of God that Jesus came to bring about. That’s in rather sharp contrast to the Pharisees and the Scribes being angry at Jesus because he and his disciples didn’t follow the traditions of the elders in not washing their hands appropriately. These traditions of the elders were oral tradition based on the laws of Moses. These traditions were intended to help people remember their deep honoring and love of God. They just don’t seem to have been overly effective and were certainly not worth getting angry over.
We have a lot of traditions in the Episcopal Church too, intended to help us draw near to the mystery of God, and open our hearts to God’s passionate love for us. Some of us follow and understand these traditions really well, and some of us don’t. Over the years, I’ve known folks would be absolutely incensed if one of the rituals and traditions in our worship didn’t go quite right. They loved worship and traditions so much that they were angry at people when the worship and traditions didn’t go quite right. How many parents have I talked to, fearful because their children made noise and were fidgety during church? I tell them time and again, be not afraid. Children can be kinda noisy and fidgety, and here in worship is where they belong.
As Jesus pointed out to the Pharisees and the Scribes, being angry with people because traditions and worships don’t go quite right is rather backwards. Our traditions and worship are meant to help us love each other and love God with ever greater passion, not the other way around.
We were made to see each other and all creation as beloved of God, and not just beloved, but deeply, passionately desired by, honored, and beloved of God. We were made to see God, creation, and each other, through the eyes of newlywed lovers, so passionately desirous for each other, that all the world is beautiful. We were made to live the passionate, desirous, honoring love which we heard in the Song of Solomon. “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 16, Year B August 23, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Ephesians 6:10-20 John 6:56-69
Why did so many of Jesus’ disciples leave him when he told them they had to eat his flesh and drink his blood? Perhaps some thought that was kinda gross, taking him a little too literally. Others, perhaps knew what he was talking about and didn’t want to put in the time and effort.
Jesus talked about the manna from heaven which Israel ate during their 40-year journey in the desert after the exodus from Egypt, and when Jesus mentioned that, some of his listeners started to get a hint that following Jesus was not a one and done kinda deal. They didn’t get to be baptized by John, follow Jesus, and be fed every day with miraculous loaves and fishes from Jesus. That’s not the bread he was talking about when he said eat my flesh and drink my blood. It’s not like the manna; it’s not simply getting a miraculous physical meal every day.
Jesus had just fed the 5000 with the 5 loaves and 2 fish, so for a minute there, it seemed to some of the disciples that if they followed Jesus, they wouldn’t have to work anymore, wouldn’t have to strive or put forth effort. Stick with Jesus, and we’ll get food.
So, when they realized he wasn’t a vending machine giving out free lunches, they left. What they missed was that they could work in their daily jobs and laboring for physical food, but they couldn’t work in their daily jobs for the food Jesus was offering. They could only get that food through Jesus, and while unearned, the food Jesus was offering did come with the cost of discipleship. The twelve knew that cost and still stayed by Jesus’ side, because they knew who he was and they wanted the bread that he was offering them. "Lord, to whom can we go?” Peter said. “You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God."
The twelve understood the words of Psalm 84, which we prayed this morning: For one day in your courts is better than a thousand in my own room, * and to stand at the threshold of the house of my God than to dwell in the tents of the wicked. For the LORD God is both sun and shield; * he will give grace and glory; No good thing will the LORD withhold * from those who walk with integrity. O LORD of hosts, * happy are they who put their trust in you! Psalm 84:9-12
Happy are they who put their trust in Jesus. We hear cost of discipleship, and it may sound like a rather less than joyful affair. Cost and discipleship are not particularly happy words, and yet, “happy are they who put their trust in Jesus.”
Paul seemed rather happy in his letter to the Ephesians. He was in prison at the time that he was writing the letter, jailed because he was a disciple of Jesus. That is something we fortunately don’t have to worry about, but for Paul, even in prison, he seemed joyful and happy in his love for Jesus. His love for Jesus is what got him imprisoned, and yet he called his love for Jesus armor.
Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
Darkness, hard times, the flaming arrows of the evil one. Amidst all of the swirling darkness around us which we know is there, armor up, Paul tells us. Armor up in your discipleship of Jesus, and be not afraid, but happy.
What does this happiness look like, well, it varies, but I’d say it isn’t the happiness that comes from the acquisition of stuff. There was the wealthy man who had many things, and he wanted the happiness of the kingdom of heaven. When Jesus told him to sell his stuff, the man went away sad. His stuff didn’t bring him the happiness his soul was longing for, and yet he still trusted in his stuff to bring him the happiness for which he longed, and Jesus looked at him with pity and said, “how hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God.”
How hard it will be for those who seek happiness in stuff to receive the happiness for which their souls are longing, the happiness that comes through abiding in, trusting in, and following Jesus. I think of the happiness of my kids when they get a new toy. It makes them happy for a while, but not for long. Even if it’s a cool toy and the play with it, they don’t get continual soul-deep happiness from a toy. Now a cuddling hug from their mom, that comes a lot closer. As a child longs for his mother’s arms, so long our souls for God.
We have relationship and discipleship with our parents, with those who love and raise us. A child loving and being loved by his mom is a life-long journey and relationship. So too, abiding in Jesus is not just a quick fix. To eat Jesus’ flesh and drink his blood, we must abide in him, follow him, trust in him. Eating Jesus flesh and drinking his blood is not a pit stop. It is continual driving and striving. A long road of discipleship, studying and taking seriously Jesus’ teachings. Staying in community with our fellow Christians, making sacrifices to do so.
Eating Jesus’ flesh and drinking his blood is a long and often a difficult road of discipleship. He promises us that it will be difficult, that people may hate, revile, exclude, tell lies about us. Does God even want us to be happy? Absolutely he does. That’s why he sent Jesus to us. Discipleship is a difficult road at times, and sometimes it’s not so difficult, but in all times “happy are they who put their trust in Jesus.” Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 15, Year B August 16, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Ephesians 5:15-20 John 6:51-58
“[Lord] Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal. Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the world in his name.” These words are from Eucharistic Prayer C, the third option of Eucharistic Prayer in our Rite II, modern language liturgy. Matthew, Mark, and Luke tell the story of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, instituting the sacrament of his body and blood in remembrance of him. This was just before he went to the cross and died, a meal that we would eat for the forgiveness of our sins.
In John’s Gospel, a meal is not mentioned at the end of Jesus’ life, but in the middle of his ministry. Jesus talks about eating his body and blood, the bread which came down from heaven, after he had just fed the 5000 with the loaves and fish. They were no longer physically hungry, and yet Jesus knew they were still spiritually famished. They needed a different meal, spiritual sustenance, not just to prepare for the end, but for their whole lives. We consume Jesus, take him into ourselves, and have him become a physical and spiritual part of us so that we can journey through this life, so that we can work for the Gospel, not for solace only, but also for strength; not for pardon only, but also for renewal.
While countless Christians eat this meal every week, we can never really consider it to be routine, and certainly not mundane. We come here for an encounter with the divine, the creator of all that is. The enormity and power of that cannot be overstated. Then, at Jesus’ invitation, we are bold enough to eat his flesh and blood in word and sacrament. The enormity and power, and even audacity of that action cannot be overstated.
I wonder if we’re not always aware of the enormity of what we’re doing when we come here. We come for an encounter with God, asking his to take part in our lives, possibly not even really ready for him to say “yes”. Author Annie Dillard writes about Christianity and her faith, and in Teaching a Stone to Talk, wrote about the enormity of what we’re doing here at the Eucharist. On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return.
Kids mixing up a bunch of TNT. God just may draw us out to where we can never return, may call us to follow and convict us so strongly, that the whole trajectory of our lives may change. Considering the danger to our comfort and routine, one might wonder why we risk coming here at all. I think the answer is shown in how Jesus spoke about us eating his flesh. He talked about us eating his flesh, but the word he used did not describe a dainty eating of a nice, easy meal. The word he used for eat connotes a ravenous ripping and chewing, the kind of eating done by someone who hasn’t eaten in two weeks.
Jesus is emphasizing the hugeness of our spiritual hunger. He knows how much we need his life within us. He knows how ravenous our souls are for him.
We don’t look particularly ravenous when we come here do we? We’re sitting nicely, listening as we partake of the first part of this meal, the reading and hearing of scripture. Jesus is the Word of God which spoke creation into existence. So in the first part of our worship, we hear the Word of God proclaimed through scripture. This is a meal in and of itself, an eating of Jesus’ flesh, for as Jesus said, quoting Deuteronomy 8:3, “one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.” We are fed by the reading of scripture and the hearing of God’s word.
Then, in the second part of our meal, we are fed by the bread and wine, the flesh and blood of Jesus. Considering the enormity of what is happening in this meal, I can’t help but note the neat and orderly way we approach the table for Eucharist, for a meal that Jesus says we are starving for. It seems we would be clamoring pell-mell to the table if realized our hunger. I realize our orderly approach is also out of reverence and awe, and I’m really glad we don’t knock each other out of the way to get to the Altar Rail and receive communion.
Jesus tells us we are starving for this meal, but he doesn’t really tell us how this meal works. In John’s Gospel, he doesn’t even give us instructions for how to eat his flesh at all. He simply says to do so, and he tells us what we receive in eating the meal of his flesh and blood.
We receive Eternal life – God’s life within us. We receive life everlasting, living forever with God. We receive a dwelling of God within us, abiding with God in Jesus.
We don’t know exactly how that works. Jesus didn’t say, and we don’t need to know. For a lot of parents, it is important that their children know what is going on in the Eucharist before they eat the Eucharist. I always encourage parents to let their kids have communion as soon as they are baptized. While none of us fully understand, kids do seem to understand almost instinctively. This is not an everyday meal we share. This is something else, something special. It is a mystery, and it is a joining with God and each other.
As physical food goes, there’s not much to it, not much that would have a kid think “I just got a yummy snack.” As food for our souls, however, this meal is enormous, and a meal which children seem to absolutely get in their souls, if not in their minds. It is a meal, after all for our souls, and not for our minds. We share this meal, we feast on Jesus’ flesh and blood, and he promises us life eternal, abiding with him forever…strength for the journey now, and life everlasting when our journeys have ended. It is a meal for the ravenously hungry, who are bold enough to take this meal, to risk joining with God, being strengthened by him, and following where he leads. Amen.
For as long as I can remember, I have gone to church. I attended mass on Sundays with my parents or grandmother. CCD always took up my Wednesday evenings. CYO was weekly with activities throughout the year. There was not an option to not go. My parents never planned weekend excursions that interfered with church. My brother, sisters, and I all made our First Communion and Confirmation as scheduled. Extracurricular activities did not interfere with church. I attended a Catholic university so my religious involvement continued through my young adult years. I was privileged growing up to worship at different churches with friends – Methodist, Assembly of God, and Pentecostal to name a few. I remember the different experiences of spirit filled worship and keep those close to my heart today. I learned early on that God was not only in the Catholic Church, but wherever I was on Sunday morning. As I grew up, I always believed I was the church as well. God was with me as I closed my eyes in prayer and worship. In the very early 80’s, Dennis and I married and moved to Bay City. He was raised in the Episcopal Church. When I became pregnant in 1983, we decided it was time to find a church home to establish roots and raise our family. We didn’t look very far. The only church we visited was St. Mark’s. Milton McWilliams was the rector. We were hooked! Now many of you know me, and I am a stickler for my children and grandchildren behaving in church. To this day I could give the girls my “mean eyes” and they would straighten up. Cooper has only had to tell me, “Mimi, your eyes are scaring me” a few times. Some may remember my biggest misbehaver was Dennis. It was his joke to squeeze us all to one end of the pew, a little at a time. On occasion, I got up and moved. I don’t know if I would have made it in their early years without Bill and Frances Savage. They could see the anxiety on my face and would come and get Erin and Natalie, telling me, “They are only bothering you, honey. We love to hear the sound of children in church.” Around the time of their preschool years, I joined Debra Shield’s team and launched my Sunday School teacher career. Along with that came Vacation Bible Schools with elaborate set decorations and musical scores second to none. It was never a decision that took much thought or debate. If I was expected at Sunday School, my girls would be there, too. And they were. As a senior in high school, Natalie and Leigh Vance taught the younger children on Sunday mornings. This year, Erin has signed on to help out in some capacity. The tradition continues. I pray that Natalie and Zach will find a church home now that they have bought and moved into their home. The Lord says, “Ask and you shall receive.” I am counting on it. Several weeks ago Brad and I were headed home after a meeting at the diocese in Houston. We were tossing out ideas about Rally Sunday, wondering if our efforts would increase Sunday School attendance for the coming year. Many of us have or are involved with the public school system. On any given day at Cherry Elementary, students can learn about sex, drugs, gangs, bullying, and meanness to name a few. Reading, math, science, and social studies are taught daily. Social skills are presented as well. We give it our all to help children learn to be productive citizens. What they don’t get is Christian Education. As parents, it is our responsibility and duty to bring our children up in the church. If a child goes to church once a month, he will be exposed to Christ for about 18 hours a year. If said child goes to church and Sunday School twice a month, she will be involved with religion right at 50 hours a year. Young adults on the Missionpalooza trip had an average of 3 hours of religious exposure in addition to 4-6 hours of service each day. Unless our children are attending church worship, Sunday School, and EYC, they are not likely to get a solid Christian education and background that will enable them to become Godly adults. As more and more kids rely on social media and the internet to occupy their time, they are missing out on the religious upbringing that so many of us here today received. August 23 is Rally Sunday. Not only will we be gearing up for Sunday School, there will be a ministries fair for all of us to choose how we are going to be involved with St. Mark’s. Please, mark your calendars and find a costume. Join in the pirate festivities. Come dressed as your favorite pirate, male and female. Prizes will be given to the best dressed man and woman. Kiddos will have fun playing and winning prizes. Nancy Kubecka is planning on “fish and chips” with the sides. A fun time will be had by all. In closing, if we do not educate and engage all of our children and grandchildren in our Christian life at St. Mark’s, someone else will take them under his wing and it may not be a good situation. We have a wonderfully diversified congregation with many young children who will fit right in and give us all hope for the future. Give them what I had and what my children had – A wonderful church to call home with a solid religious background. Make Christian education and community a priority in your child’s life. As stated in Proverbs22:6 - Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. God bless you.
Brad Sullivan Proper 12, Year B July 26, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Ephesians 3:14-21 John 6:1-21
I had a wonderful week on our mission trip last week. We were divided into groups, and my team spent our days digging post holes for fences with Habitat for Humanity through some of the rockiest soil I’ve ever seen. Hard work, but very gratifying, and the youth were great, working hard, cheerful, and loving being there.
We also spent each night in worship and had time with our work crews to discuss questions that the preacher gave. Some in my group had other questions about our faith, so we got together after dinner on Thursday along with several other youth, the other adult from our group, and we had this great conversation of faith.
One thing kept coming up during this conversation which I finally addressed to the group. The kids kept asking about whether this group or that group would be going to hell. I finally said, “guys, who goes to heaven and who goes to hell”, that’s not really the gospel.
Gospel of Jesus can’t be summed up as, “believe in Jesus or go to hell.”
If it were that simple, I think Jesus would have stated it that simply. Having showed his signs, having multiplied food in the sight of 5,000 people, I think Jesus would have simply told the people, “I am the co-eternal Son of God through whom all the world was made. Believe that fact or go to hell when you die.”
Jesus didn’t say that, and I don’t think the Gospel is as simple as that.
“Believe in Jesus or go to hell” is not the Gospel. These youth were not a part of churches in which such a gospel was taught, and yet that is what they had gleaned from what they had heard, maybe from popular Christianity. There certainly is a lot of “believe in Jesus or go to hell” out there for people, young and old, to latch onto, but “believe in Jesus or go to hell” is not the Gospel.
Restoration of creation, repentance & forgiveness, reconciliation, love, unity with God – that is the Gospel of Jesus.
Look at the problem Jesus came to fix. In the beginning of creation, Adam and Eve walked with God. They were naked and unashamed. We were made to be in deep, openhearted relationships with one another, bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh relationships. We were made to be fully our true selves with God and with each other, without fear, naked and unashamed, walking together in unity and love.
When we disobeyed God, what was the immediate consequence? Before even the punishment that God gave, we felt shame, and we hid from each other and we hid from God. The immediate consequence of our disobeying God was disconnection from God and disconnection from each other.
That is what Jesus came to restore, our deep open heart to open heart relationships with God and with each other. When Jesus had the 5000 people sit down together on the grass, he took 5000 disparate people, and he had them eat a meal together. He had them do what family and friends do together. He gathered up 12 baskets full of bread from the 5 loaves and 2 fish. 12 baskets for 12 tribes of Israel. Jesus was showing the people that he came to restore them and make them whole.
Jesus was God who had become human. He united humanity and divinity, even closer than they were united in Eden. That was the restoration Jesus came to bring. We were made to be united to God, united to the creator of all life, goodness, and love. Jesus united humanity and divinity so that we may be forever united to God. Jesus brought us back to our original Edenic state.
Believe in Jesus or go to hell? That is a farce, a perversion of the Gospel, and a dangerous one at that. I know people who have believed in Jesus, but also doubted, and because of their doubts, been told by members of their church that they are going to hell. As a result, they have stopped believing in Jesus at all. “Believe in Jesus or go to hell” is what many preachers preach, and what many young people hear. It is short, easy, simple, and leaves no room for doubt. Children and youth who are taught this version of the Gospel, therefore, will easily and readily declare who is going to hell based on their doubts or questions, and by doing so, they drive people away from Jesus.
The young people I spoke to have likely not had preachers tell them, “believe in Jesus or go to hell,” and yet that dangerous perversion of the Gospel is so prevalent that they had still gleaned it as their basic summation of the Gospel.
The gospel of Jesus cannot and must not be mistakenly summed up as “believe in Jesus or go to hell.” Doing so breeds fear, shame, and disconnection…everything Jesus came to heal us from. Think about the evangelism that goes with it…making people feel afraid enough or feel badly enough about themselves that they will turn to Jesus.
That’s what advertising agencies do! Women are bombarded with images of airbrushed women, tacitly being told that if they don’t fit into a similar body-type, that there is something wrong with them. Women are marketed and sold make up, tacitly being told that their faces are not worthy of being seen, without makeup covering them entirely, all so they can buy stuff from these companies. How terrible.
Men are made to believe by advertising and marketing that unless they are muscular, chiseled, great smelling and uber-masculine, they are not worthy as human beings. All so they can buy stuff from the very companies making them feel badly about themselves. How terrible.
The false gospel of “believe in Jesus or go to hell” evangelizes in the exact same way as companies trying to sell us stuff by making us feel badly about ourselves. They make us believe we are wicked and worthless sinners, destined only for eternal torment, unless we assent to or believe in the fact of Jesus’ divinity. How terrible. There is no good news there.
We are unquestionably flawed – we make bad decisions which hurt ourselves and others. We sin. The gospel of Jesus offers us forgiveness, guidance, new direction, and a new life so that we don’t have to be defined by our bad decisions. We don’t have to be defined by our sins, but are defined as beloved children of God…children who need guidance, forgiveness, reconciliation, and love. Jesus, the good shepherd, offers us those things. Like the 5000 people, Jesus fed, Jesus knows we are hungry too, for guidance, forgiveness, reconciliation, and love, and he would never leave us unfed.
That is the gospel of Jesus.
The God of all the universe united himself perfectly to us by becoming human in the person of Jesus. Jesus brings us back to Eden where we may be naked and unashamed before God and where we may be naked an unashamed before each other. Jesus told his disciples when we walked on the water, “do not be afraid.” “It is I[, the creator of the universe]; do not be afraid.”
What two things do we generally fear more than anything else? Death, and disconnection. We fear death, and we fear being disconnected from others. We fear being rejected by others, being the target of gossip, being on the outside, not worthy of others’ love. Amidst all this fear, Jesus says, “It is I[, the creator of the universe]; do not be afraid.”
Jesus came to restore our connection to God so that we might also live wholehearted, connected lives with each other, once again being naked and unashamed, living open heart to open heart connection with each other, and seeking repentance, forgiveness, and reconciliation in order to do so. Jesus also came to show us that we needn’t fear death because our lives continue on after we die. We get to keep on living with God in Christ. Even after our bodies have died, we get to return to Eden.
That is the Gospel of Jesus.
When I said this to the young people on that mission trip, their faces seemed to say that their minds were blown, and they sat there saying, “we want to hear more. Can we skip Eucharist.” We were about to go have Eucharist, and I said, “no, we can keep the conversation going later, but we’re not going to break communion in order to do that. We’re going to join with the whole body and have communion together. That is also the Gospel of Jesus.
Our young people, and people of all ages need to hear the Gospel of Jesus, not a false perversion of it. We all need to go out there and preach this Gospel. Preaching in this case, was a conversation, it wasn’t on a street corner. We need to tell people the good news of Jesus, not the scary, manipulative false advertising that is so often mistaken for the Gospel.
Let us pray. Almighty God and Father, we pray that Jesus may dwell in our hearts through faith, as we are being rooted and grounded in love. We pray that we may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that we may be filled with all the fullness of God, for that is the Gospel of Jesus. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 11, Year B July 19, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Ephesians 2:11-22 Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
The people in Jesus’ day flocked to him. They went running around a lake to reach him, and thronged to him in the marketplace. He called them sheep without a shepherd, and we saw last week what their shepherds were like. Herod had an innocent man killed so he would look powerful in front of his friends. The Pharisees and other religious leaders demanded perfection regarding religious practice, but they didn’t help regular people connect to God while living their normal, everyday lives. People flocked to Jesus and fought to be near him.
Why are so many not flocking to Jesus now? Folks don’t seem to be getting healed of physical infirmities like they once were. Physical healing is not needed as badly as it once was, we have doctors for much of that healing. We still need healing from Jesus, however, healing from depression, disconnection, over-stretched lives, unending pull of the next thing. Perhaps people don’t flock to Jesus nowadays because they aren’t sheep without a shepherd, but sheep with too many shepherds.
For some, money and defining success and self worth through money is their shepherd. Some find leisure activities to be their shepherd, with such a strong need to unwind and relax. Self improvement can be a shepherd, “be your best self now.” There are a huge variety of activities which promise the world to those who participate. A lot of them offer good morals and to build good character. In popular Christianity the church offers a kind of one and done baptism. Once you’re baptized, you’re kinda done. You get to go to heaven, so you don’t need to worry about anything else. What else then, does the church offer in popular Christianity? It offers good morals and good character. We’ll, if folks think they can get that playing soccer, then what’s the point of church?
We have too many shepherds, and we’ve ended up with a lot of people who have forgotten the point of our life together in the church. If all it is, is good morals and character, then people can get that elsewhere from all the other shepherds.
These activities needn’t be in competition with the church, but it is a struggle. It is a struggle to come to Jesus. It is hard to break the hold of our other shepherds. We have commitments which we don’t want to break. We don’t want to break our word. It’s tough.
We also have our baptismal covenant, the commitment we made to live together as disciples of Jesus, to raise each other up, to teach our children to follow Jesus, to live as disciples of Jesus, to raise each other up, to teach and follow the ways of Jesus, our ways as Episcopalians, to be here for worship and Eucharist.
Many of the other activities and things we follow (other shepherds) are good things in and of themselves. They seem like armor protecting us from boredom, disconnection, getting into trouble, allowing us to unwind, enjoy life, etc. Many, when they end up excluding our communal faith and connection to God, however, become swords which leave us even more exhausted. Our other shepherds, the armor we carry, become swords which harm us. ARMOR AND SWORD AVAILABLE ON SNAKES & ARROWS
Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson Lyrics: Neil Peart
The snakes and arrows a child is heir to, Are enough to leave a thousand cuts We build our defenses, a place of safety, And leave the darker places unexplored
Sometimes the fortress is too strong Or the love is too weak What should have been our armor Becomes a sharp and angry sword Our better natures seek elevation, A refuge for the coming night No one gets to their heaven without a fight
We hold beliefs as a consolation, A way to take us out of ourselves Meditation, or medication, A comfort, or a promised reward
Sometimes that spirit is too strong Or the flesh is too weak Sometimes the need is just too great For the solace we seek The suit of shining armor Becomes a keen and bloody sword
No one gets to their heaven without a fight, A refuge for the coming night A future of eternal light. No one gets to their heaven without a fight
Confused alarms of struggle and flight, Blood is drained of color By the flashes of artillery light. No one gets to their heaven without a fight The battle flags are flown At the feet of a god unknown No one gets to their heaven without a fight.
Sometimes the damage is too great. Or the will is too weak What should have been our armor Becomes a sharp and burning sword
If we want to keep this life we have, then we have to fight for it. Mostly, we need to fight within ourselves to not to be pulled by the voices of the many shepherds around us, and listen to the voice of Jesus, our one true shepherd.
As we heard from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians: you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God. (from Ephesians 2:11-22)
We are the Body of Christ. We are connected to God and each other through Jesus. We have God’s very eternal life abiding among and within us. It is given as a gift, and yet we must fight to keep it. We don’t fight others. The fight is within ourselves, a war within us, as Paul says, between our spirit and our flesh, and we have many shepherds often clamoring for our attention. We want to keep our life in Jesus. We want to follow our one true shepherd, and we want to keep, strengthen, and grow our life together in Jesus, and we can’t do so without a fight. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 10, Year B July 12, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Mark 6:14-29
Hooray for getting to talk about beheading this morning. I know it’s my personal favorite topic first thing on a Sunday morning. Earlier in the week, Kristin asked me about mock enthusiasm if I was looking forward to preaching about the beheading of John the Baptist. “Is that the Gospel for this Sunday?” I asked. “Yup, it’s great, isn’t it?” She replied. “Oy,” I think was my response. There is grace in this story, however. We just have to find it. So here we go. Herod was basically a puppet king. Rome was the true ruler over Israel, even though Israel had some amount of self-rule beneath the umbrella of Rome. Herod was king of Israel, but only because Rome didn’t want to devote the resources to rule them directly. I can imagine Herod feeling rather powerless as this puppet king. He felt powerless and so he stared being reckless and dangerous. He promised up to half of his kingdom to his step daughter, but half of kingdom was not really his to give. Rome had the authority, not Herod. Despite this fact, despite being a puppet king, Herod did have the ability to rule his people well. He had the influence in Rome to bring about some good. While we don’t know exactly how he ruled, it seems that instead of ruling for his people, he generally sought more and more power for himself. He wanted to be great and mighty in the eyes of others. Feared. Admired for his wealth and influence. He wanted his ego stroked. So, in his powerless desire for power, he started being reckless. He gave himself a birthday party and began feeling powerful like he wanted. Surrounded by the powerful people beneath him, his courtiers, officers, and rulers of Galilee, he began to feel great and mighty in their eyes. His step daughter danced, and they were all pleased. He looked like a great king, or at least he thought he looked like a great king in their eyes. Drunk on his supposed power, he got brazen and did something stupid. He offered his step daughter more than he either could or wanted to give. Expecting a relatively small request from the young girl, he makes a grand gesture, again looking powerful. The plan was to look mighty and beneficent through his grandiosity in offering and generosity in giving. Then, of course, he got caught in his rash offer and was left with a choice. Have a good man killed, a man whom he feared and respected, or give up his ruse of power and do the right thing. Herod could have backed down from his rash oath he made to give his step daughter half of his kingdom. He could have said, “I’m sorry, but the power and authority of my kingship went to my head. I cannot give half of the kingdom. Without Rome, it is not mine to give. I am not powerful as I want to be as king. We will talk later about what gift I can give, but the head of this man, I cannot give. As for you, my courtiers, officers, and leaders of Galilee, we know we don’t have the power of a sovereign nation, but let us work together to be the best rulers we can be for the sake of our people.” That might be a little too 21st century to have actually come out of Herod’s mouth, but he could have admitted that he messed up, admitted that even the party he threw was a bit of a farce, and then sought to take the power that he and his officers did have and use it for the good of the people. I don’t know that any of them really had the character to do that, I do believe Herod regretted his decision and would like to have learned from it. The point, however, is not what could have been, but what could yet be based on the decisions we make. We all have power, even in small amounts. We all have some way to effect change in our lives or in the lives of those around us. Sometimes we also feel powerless to effect the change we would like to. I’m guessing in those times when we’ve felt powerless, we, like Herod have sometimes done the wrong thing, maybe not full on beheading, but the wrong thing nonetheless. We’ve likely regretted it. Here’s where graced comes in. Last week, we heard Paul talking about weakness, and God being strong when we are week. We heard about God’s grace being sufficient for us when we are weak. When we are weak and feel powerless, God’s grace is sufficient for us. We find with God’s grace that we don’t need the power we wished we had. With God’s grace, we find that what power we do have is sufficient. We may need to change our goals or recognize our area of influence to affect the world is smaller than we would like, but with God’s grace, we realize it isn’t our world, and what power we have to affect change is sufficient. When we mess up and regret it, we find God’s grace is sufficient for our forgiveness. God’s grace is sufficient for us to make amends. God’s grace is sufficient for us to admit that we’ve done wrong, talk openheartedly to those around us, and seek together to live God’s kingdom. Herod was a fool in offering his step daughter half of his kingdom. I’m guessing we’ve all been fools as one point or another. God’s grace was sufficient for him to get out of that by admitting that he acted rashly and repenting of it, like King David did. God’s grace is sufficient for us to admit when we acted as fools, repent, feel kinda dumb, and then accept the love and forgiveness of God and others. We’re God’s children, Paul reminds us. We are beloved of God. We’ve got a lot of darkness within us, enough even to do the stupid things Herod did. We’d be fools to think otherwise. Even with that darkness within us, we are still God’s children, beloved of God. We mess up, regret it, and there is God’s grace, unexpected, undeserved, offering us love, forgiveness, and guidance to start life anew. Amen.
Brad Sullivan Proper 9, Year B July 5, 2015 Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX 2 Corinthians 12:2-10 Mark 6:1-13
Did you notice that Jesus didn’t send out his disciples to preach and to heal people until the disciples had seen Jesus rejected in Nazareth? I wonder if they needed to see that, to know they might be rejected before they were sent out. Maybe they needed to be kept from being too elated, as Paul wrote about himself. Paul wrote that he was made weak and tormented by a messenger of Satan, and that he prayed to God for it to leave him. In response, God said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”
Not exactly the response Paul was looking for, but he understood. We can get too puffed up, too strong on our own, and then we tend to give too much glory to ourselves. Even when our words say otherwise, pride ends up telling us that we are great. Feeling self-sufficient can leave us isolated, closed off. We can end up scornful and contemptuous of those needing help…even if we help them. “Thank God we’re not like that.”
Imagine if the disciples went to heal people and to preach repentance while thinking in their hearts, “Thank God we’re not like those people.”
Paul said, when we are weak, then we are strong – because we have to accept our dependence on others, and we have to accept our dependence on God.
Jesus certainly made sure his disciples would not be self-sufficient when he sent them out to preach and heal in the villages around Nazareth. They weren’t allowed by be strong so that they had to rely on the charity, meaning love, of others. Go in weakness so that God’s love may be made strong. Allow the strength of others to care for you as you go, so that God’s love may be made strong. Go also realizing that you may be rejected, just as I was rejected, and allow God’s grace to be sufficient for you.
Jesus was rejected in Nazareth because he called up short those in Nazareth. It is one thing for someone who is supposed to have life all figured out to teach us about life. (clergy, life-coach, counselor, Oprah) We can have the experts teach us about life, because then we’re comfortable in our place. We don’t feel threatened because, well, they’re the expert. We don’t have things as together as the expert, but we’re not supposed to, we think. They’re the expert. They’re on a higher level, so their teaching doesn’t threaten my worth on the lower strata where I reside.
When someone who seems just as like us begins teaching us, then we have problems. They’ve risen above their station because they’ve risen above us. If they, who were just like us, are now “above” us, then my place in the universe, in society is threatened. I feel less, because they are more. I feel threatened by one of my own teaching me. “Who the hell do they think they are,” right?
Jesus teaching in Nazareth exposed the people’s weakness in ways that the religious elite teaching them did not. They didn’t like feeling weak, so they shut out the teaching. They closed themselves off to Jesus, and put their armor in place so they wouldn’t be hurt by their acknowledged weakness. They felt stronger.
Their armoring up, however, was not strength. It was shame and fear. Jesus called his Nazareth brothers and sisters to repent, to be the light to the nations God made them to be, to show the world the love of God. They heard his message, however, and they felt exposed. Through one of their own preaching to them, their armor of fig leaves dropped off, and they had to take seriously their own weakness. I’m guessing they didn’t like what they saw, because you tend not to reject someone who makes you happy. They felt weak, so they got angry with Jesus, and they put their armor of fig leaves back on, and they pretended that it made them strong, but strength is not pretending that we have it all together. Strength is not fooling ourselves into thinking that we are righteous and self-sufficient.
Strength is acknowledging our weakness and asking for help. In doing so, we risk having to change. We risk letting Jesus in and letting Jesus’ teachings in and changing us. We also risk connecting with others. Acknowledging our weakness means our armor comes off. We drop our fig leaves, and you know what everyone can see then. When we drop our fig leaves, we let others in. We let God in, and God is made strong in our weakness. Love is made strong when we are connected to one another and vulnerable with one another.
We are all imperfect vessels of God’s grace. Our church is an imperfect vessel of God’s grace. That’s why we need God’s grace. We’re doing the best we can, muddling through, doing well, messing up, revealing our strengths and our weaknesses as we go along. Rather than being made perfect, we are told, God’s grace is sufficient for us, and with God’s grace, we continue to muddle through.
The focus is not our muddling, but God’s grace.
Go not only to give, but also to receive. Go to accept God’s grace, to give God’s grace, to proclaim God’s grace, and to continue on the work that Jesus gave his disciples. Go to help heal the world, and to be healed in the process. Go to help reconcile people to each other and to God. That is what Jesus came to do, to transform the world through reconciliation.
As Presiding Bishop-Elect Michael Curry said in his sermon to General Convention: [Jesus] came to show us therefore how to become more than simply the human race – that’s not good enough – came to show us how to be more than a collection of individualized self-interests, came to show us how to become more than a human race. He came to show us how to become the human family of God. And in that, my friends, is our hope and our salvation, now and unto the day of eternity. Or to say it another way. Max Lucado who’s a Christian writer says “God loves you just the way you are, but he [doesn’t intend] to leave you that way.” Jesus came to change the world and to change us from the nightmare that life can often be to the dream that God has intended from before the earth and world was ever made. Fooling ourselves into thinking we are self sufficient keeps us in a nightmare of life, leaving us believing we don’t need the grace of God. Fooling others into thinking we are self sufficient them in a nightmare of life, thinking they are even more damaged than they are, that they only need God’s grace because they aren’t as good as the folks who have it all together. Thinking that we have it all together, or expecting that we do, keeps us in the nightmare of life in which we cannot be fully reconciled with each other and with God.
Jesus came to change the world to change us from than nightmare of disconnection to the dream of connection and love that God has intended from before the earth and world was ever made.
So go, as imperfect vessels of God’s grace. Go as part of this Episcopal Church, this imperfect vessel of God’s grace, into an imperfect world in desperate need of God’s grace. Go acknowledging your weakness and our weakness. Go, believing that even as we continue to muddle through, God’s grace is sufficient. For when we are weak, then God is strong. Amen.
Brad Sullivan
Proper 8, Year B
June 28, 2015
Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX
Mark 4:35-41
Jesus healed a woman of her hemorrhage without even meaning to. She had been suffering from this hemorrhage for 12 years, was made worse by the doctors, and then she heard about Jesus. As he passed by her in a crowd, she touched Jesus’ garment, and immediately she was healed. “Your faith has made you well,” Jesus said, “go in peace.”
Peace is, I believe, the key to her healing. The hemorrhage was obviously not bad enough to kill her. She had been living with this hemorrhage, bleeding for 12 years. The hemorrhage wasn’t killing her, but it was keeping her from living. Because she was bleeding, she was unclean. Anyone who touched her, or anything on which she sat was also unclean. She couldn’t enter the temple, and couldn’t live a normal life.
I don’t know for sure, but it seems like it would be difficult to have quality relationships with people if they could never touch you, if you could never sit in their presence, and if they could never touch anything you touched. Whether you ended up as a pariah or simply one to be pitied and gossiped about, my guess is this woman’s relationships were rather less than ideal.
Jesus healed her not only of a hemorrhage, but of the isolation and shame that went with it. He made her whole and gave her peace. This peace means shalom, wholeness and peace of mind, body, spirit, inside and out. He restored her to relationship with others so she could have wholehearted relationships with people, rather than forever hiding behind fig leaves.
Ultimately, that is what Jesus did for this woman and what Jesus does for us. He restores us to proper relationship and helps us remove our shame so we can be naked an unashamed, as Adam and Eve were in the Garden with God and with each other. At the root of all of our need for healing is that first consequence of Adam and Eve’s disobedience to God: shame and disconnection. After eating the fruit which God told them not to eat, Adam and Eve immediately hid themselves from God and from each other. They were ashamed and put up barriers to their once open and wholehearted relationships. Wholehearted living, Brené Brown calls it.
Wholehearted living or wholehearted relationships mean that we can be courageous enough to be our true selves with others. We can let go of our defenses and the armor we put up around ourselves, and we learn to trust other people. We can be honest about ourselves and accept honesty from others. Wholehearted living means we can have empathy and compassion toward others, and toward ourselves. We can care more about people than we care about being right. We care enough about others to speak the truth to them, and we care enough to speak that truth in love. Wholehearted living means we’re willing to be uncomfortable for the sake of love, that we’re willing to hurt for the sake of forgiveness, that we’re willing to let go of our self-righteous anger for the sake of seeing another with compassion and empathy.
The woman whom Jesus healed of her hemorrhage, was healed so that she could live whole heartedly, without shame and disconnection.
At Saint Mark’s, we too have a hemorrhage of which we need to be healed, several probably, like any other community, but today, I’m speaking specifically of the hemorrhage of gossip.
I raised this issue at our parish meeting back in January, and was asked a few days later if I had raised the issue because of something in particular or if I thought that we were worse about gossip than other parishes. I said, “no, just the usual kind of gossip that happens everywhere.” Thinking more about that question, however, I’ve realized that I’m not concerned with comparing us with other parishes. I wasn’t called to be the rector anywhere else. I was called to be rector here. There’s gossip here, and a pretty good amount of it. Like the woman with the hemorrhage, the gossip isn’t killing us, but it is keeping us from wholehearted relationships with each other.
I know this is small town Texas. I know people gossip. I also know that gossip is not what Jesus intends for our lives. Gossip puts up barriers to whole Wholehearted living. Gossip, or generally negative talking about someone else behind their back puts that other person on the outside of a relationship. The gossipers feel like they are more connected because that other person has been disconnected. He’s in the out group, so “we’re good.”
Of course connection through gossip is not true connection. It’s not wholehearted connection. It is connection based on shame and fear. It is connection with the fear that, “once I leave, someone might gossip about me, and then I’ll be on the outside.” Gossip just keeps us behind fig leaves instead of truly, wholeheartedly loving one another.
If we are ever going to be the church Jesus intends for us to be, we have to stop gossiping, here and everywhere else in our lives. We need to be a light to others, showing them how to live wholeheartedly, rather than gossip.
This doesn’t mean we don’t ever talk about what’s happened in our lives, or about what happened with another person.
Let’s say you’re talking to a friend about how someone has hurt you. The friend listens compassionately, empathetic for the pain you’ve been caused. That’s good venting along with supportive talking and listening. Then let’s say the friend starts talking about his own problems with the person who hurt you. Now we’re probably getting into gossip. “I know, he’s just a jerk, isn’t he. Let me tell you what he did the other day.” Gossip.
Realizing sometimes we need to vent out emotions, that needs to be done with a trusted person, knowing it won’t go any further. It also needs to be done for the sake of healing not bashing someone else.
Perhaps when you’re sharing how someone has hurt you, and your friend decides to share similar negative experiences that he’s had with this other person, but not to have a common enemy, not feel connection by disconnecting the other. Let’s say your friend starts sharing common negative experiences out of concern for the other person. “You know, he was kinda mean to me the other day too. I wonder what’s going on. I think I’m going to check on him, see if everything is ok.”
Now we may not be gossiping. Now we may be caring about someone. Perhaps you both start looking at this other person with empathy and compassion. Perhaps through those lenses, you find healing for yourself. Perhaps through those lenses of empathy and compassion, you find a desire to seek reconciliation with that other person, for his sake as well as for yours.
It’s just that easy, right?
Speaking the truth in love is not nearly as easy as gossiping, but it is courageous. Choosing to say, “wait a minute, let’s stop talking bad about this person; let’s instead look at this person with compassion and empathy,” is not easy, but it is courageous. Forgiving another, rather than gossiping is not easy. As former dean of our cathedral, Joe Reynolds said, if we’re really going to forgive, something has to die (our hurt, our self-righteousness, our being right, etc.). Forgiving means letting something die. So, choosing the pain and grief of forgiveness rather than gossip, and letting die within us that which needs to die in order to forgive is not easy, but it is courageous. Choosing to seek connection and wholehearted relationships, not by setting someone else up as an outsider through gossip, but seeking wholehearted relationships with others is not easy, but it is the way of Jesus.
Gossip has no place in Jesus’ kingdom. It is a hemorrhage from which we and most everyone else needs healing so that we can live wholeheartedly.
Wholehearted living is the kind of life Jesus offers us. Wholehearted living is the kind of life God intends for us, so that we can live without shame or fear, but with daring, with empathy, compassion, and love. Amen.
Brad Sullivan
Proper 7, Year B
June 21, 2015
Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX
Mark 4:35-41
Jesus and his disciples were in a boat, about to be swamped by the great wind and waves of a storm raging all around them. Amidst the fear and incredulity of the disciples, Jesus says three words, “Peace! Be Still!”, and the winds in the sea obeyed Jesus. The storm calmed. There was peace.
On Wednesday night, 9 people were killed at Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charlestown, SC. The gunman, terrorist we could call him, was caught, confessed to the killings, and on Friday, was being arraigned. I heard on the news, recordings of family members of those who had been killed who were there during the arraignment. They were forgiving the young man and praying for him. They obeyed Jesus, the storm calmed, and there was peace.
The storm in their lives is far from over, and they are, I am sure, far from peace, and yet, they chose to offer peace and forgiveness rather than spread the anger which they are also feeling. The sister of DePayne Middleton-Doctor said she is 'still a work in progress' when it comes for forgiveness. "I am very angry but one thing Depayne has always taught us that we are the family love built," she said. "We have no room for hate."
“Peace! Be still!” Jesus said to the storm, and the storm calmed, and there was peace. Jesus commanded his disciples, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5:44) Again, he said, “Bless those who curse you, and pray for those who abuse you.” (Luke 6:28) The families of the victims of this shooting have obeyed Jesus’ commands. They have shown grace upon grace. They have offered peace to this storm that threatened to swamp their boat.
Anger, fear, resentment: these are very natural ways to react when we are facing storms in our lives. The problem is, anger, fear, and resentment don’t bring peace. They just make the storm worse and swamp our boats that much more quickly. Nelson Mandela, among others said, “Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies”
There are so many storms out there, and so many storms in here. How are we going to obey Jesus in order to bring peace and calm to these storms? What are we going to do?
Despite all of the political talk and debate that has erupted once again, bringing even more storms, the violent boat sinking storms that our nation faces will not be solved through legislation. Laws may help, but they won’t calm the storm. They won’t bring peace. There are no quick fixes and easy solutions.
So what are we going to do? How are we going to respond? A clergy colleague of mine wrote the following prayer. Dear Lord, what would you have us do to turn things around? Maybe start with turning around? Repentance? We (the church) are supposed to know how to do that. Confession? What would world changing repentance and confession, from an entire denomination (the Episcopal Church- since a bunch of us are getting together next week in Salt Lake) for the sins of racism look like? What would happen if an entire church got down on her knees and repented? What would happen if we stayed on our knees and waited for God to moves us? - Sara Shisler Goff Stay on our knees in prayer, and wait for God to move us. That sounds like a pretty good way forward. We want the world to change, but we can’t expect it to if we don’t change. We can’t know how to change if we don’t listen to God first.
So, I am suggesting and asking that all of us get together weekly with others to pray for peace and calm for the many storms in our lives and in our nation. Then, when you get guidance from God to act, be daring enough to act, obeying Jesus’ commands to bring peace and calm to the storm. If our actions aren’t bringing peace and calm, then we don’t need to be taking those actions.
So pray first. Then act. Regarding praying with others in groups, this could be for 5 minutes with a co-worker. This could be with a couple of friends with whom you already gather every week. I’ve printed cards for everyone that you should have right now for you to write down three or four names of people whom you are going to ask to pray with you weekly.
Additionally, we’ve got people in the back of the church who will write your name down if you need help in finding a group. Simply give them your name, and we’ll help get you connected to a group.
You should also have been given a card with a prayer service for peace. Use it if it’s helpful. It is a basic liturgy for a short, small group prayer service adapted from the Book of Common Prayer.
Finally, you should have been given a bookmark with a prayer for the morning and for the night, both prayers asking for God to use us as servants of his peace.
We need peace so that the storms of this nation don’t keep swamping people’s boats. We need to obey Jesus as the wind and the sea did, as the family of those killed in South Carolina did. I’m asking you to do this. I’m asking you to gather with others for prayer. If you need help in starting this, ask for it. If you’ve already got a group and are open to a couple of people joining, let us know, and we’ll guide people to you.
Pray nightly by yourself or with your family for peace. Pray that God will make us servants of his peace. Pray that we would obey Jesus as readily as the wind and the sea.
I offer and end with these two prayers for morning and night.
Each morning: - Lord of all creation, of light and life, the world is not what I wish it were. Lord, use me as you will to bring about your kingdom of love. Help transform my heart to let go of fear, pride, self-righteousness, and resentment, and fill me instead with daring, compassion, empathy, forgiveness, and love. Then use me as you will, and leave me open and alert to your guidance.
Every night: - Lord, I have done what we could today. I regret those actions I did not take which you wanted me to, and what I did which was against your will. I am also grateful for those times when I did serve you. This day is now past. Please take it as my offering to you, and grant me a peaceful night and a perfect end, that I may be refreshed to do your will again tomorrow.
Pray these prayers with confidence in Jesus who said to the storm, "Peace. Be still.", and the storm calmed, and there was peace. Amen.
I’m going to talk today about faith and faithfulness, and how God can take small amounts of each and grow something beautiful. About 6 years ago, I was going through a period of great doubt, great enough that I was wondering if I could remain a priest or not. Nothing particular had triggered this, I was just questioning and wondering, and I really didn’t know if I was going to find faith again. I felt like a had to know for sure, with certainty, and I could never find certainty.
Fortunately, I did remain faithful during this time, kinda had to, and so even amidst personal doubts, I was faithful in my role as a priest, faithful in prayer, preaching, teaching, worshipping, celebrating Eucharist. Faithfulness to our life and the ways of Jesus sustained me when my faith seemed gone. Then, about 5 years ago, my faith returned, or rather, I chose to have faith again. I loved the story of Jesus, and even though I couldn’t have certainty, I didn’t want to give that story up. I didn’t want to give up God becoming one of us. I didn’t want to give up Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. I didn’t want to give up the Kingdom of God and all of our lives joined together, with God in Christ. So, I chose to believe even with all of my doubts and uncertainties. That small amount of faith and that faithfulness was enough for God to grow even greater faith and within me. After that period of doubt and believing again, I found a faith greater and deeper than ever I had before.
As most of y’all know, about three weeks ago, my dad died, and in the last three weeks, that faith has not only sustained me, but also given me joy. When Dad died, I’d been preparing for it for a while, emotionally, so when the time finally came, I was largely joyful for him…no more pneumonia, no more struggling with diabetes, no more strife. Also, in my view of life with Jesus, he’s not looking down on us. We’re there with him, already together. So, for Dad’s sake, I was truly joyful.
Then, not long after that, I started alternating between sadness, shock, joy for Dad, and everywhere in between. Sometimes I’m joyful for him and talk to him, sometimes, I cry because I want my dad back.
The sadness and grief is to be expected for anyone who loves and loses their dad. The joy part? Not everyone has that. I didn’t used to have that. I believed in life with God after death. Actually, I had been taught it, I was supposed to believe it, but it didn’t hold the meaning and the joy years ago that it does for me now, but years ago, I had a seed of faith, and it has grown such that I truly can be joyful for Dad’s life with God continuing on in Jesus.
Such is life in God’s Kingdom, where God takes our faith and our faithfulness, even if we have just a little, and God grows something great out of them. Jesus said the Kingdom of God is like a tiny mustard seed which grows into a large plant. God can take small amounts of faithfulness and grow something wonderful out of them.
Kristin was away over the end of last week with Brenda Harris to the Kids Hope USA director training in Dallas. The boys were with my mom, and I had Ellie, who had not been away from Kristin overnight until Wednesday and Thursday night last week. For those who had been following the Ellie with Daddy, no Mommy saga on Facebook, the final score was Ellie 84, Daddy79. It was a great couple of days to spend with our baby girl.
But I digress. Kristin and Brenda were at the Kids Hope USA training to direct our program with Kids Hope USA which partners with churches and schools to facilitate mentoring in elementary schools. Through Kristin and Brenda, Kids Hope is providing training for members of St. Mark’s so that we can be mentors for kids at Linnie Roberts Elementary School. We’ve got 8 mentors so far who will be trained and supported by Brenda and Kristin, and then spend an hour a week with one child at Linnie Roberts over the next school year.
That shouldn’t really make much of a difference, should it? One hour a week. Then again, the Kingdom of God is like a tiny seek which grows into a huge plant; it sprouts and grows, we don’t know how. The following is a story from Kids Hope about a child for whom this one hour with a mentor who believed in him grew into something great.
SOMEONE WHO BELIEVES IN ME... Only a few weeks into his first year of school, and already Tommy had a reputation. His unruly behavior had cleared the classroom, more than once. His teacher was at a loss. His mom was worried. School leaders had already given up on the Kindergartener. But then hope... a gift named Rhonda. When Rhonda, Tommy's KIDS HOPE mentor, went to meet him for the first time, school staff hesitated: "Are you sure you're ready for this?" Rhonda was. She met Tommy's wide eyes with a smile, and began pouring herself into the little boy's life. Together they played, learned and listened. They created an incentive chart, helping Tommy and his teacher begin to recognize the good in the five year old. Soon, the angry outbursts stopped. Tommy's behavior changed so drastically, it changed the minds of those around him. Where they once saw only a disciplinary problem, they now saw a delightful boy with a brilliant mind, a soft heart and a bright future. Tommy, once on a fast track to an alternative school is now thriving in his traditional classroom. Once labeled as "trouble" is now valued as a child... all because he found hope in someone who believed in him. (http://www.kidshopeusa.org/Why/Stories/)
Again, an hour a week, doesn’t seem like it would work, but Kingdom of God is like a tiny seek which grows into a huge plant; it sprouts and grows, we don’t know how. God can take what faithfulness we have, and grow it into something wonderful.
God can take what faith we have and grow it into something wonderful.
If you’re struggling with doubt, then remain faithful, and let your faith be enough for now, and ask God to make it to grow. God can take the seed of faith and grow it into something great, more joyful, and more life-giving than we may imagine.
Look at what work you can do for the Kingdom of God, and let what work you can do for God’s Kingdom be enough for now, and expect it to bear fruit. If all you can give for the growth of God’s Kingdom is an hour / week, that’s enough for God. God can use that seed to grow a lot more in your life and in the lives of those for whom you give that hour.
Kingdom of God does not happen all at once. It grows from a tiny seed into a great plant. Whatever faith and faithfulness we have is enough for now. Ask for God to make it grow. Amen.
The obvious part of our Gospel story today is that Jesus is telling the scribes that no, he is not using the power of the prince of demons to cast out demons. “If a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.” Satan would not be stupid enough to be here casting out demons; he would not be working against himself. Jesus is making clear that he is casting out demons with the power of God, not the power of the enemy.
Less clear is that Jesus is warning the Scribes not to turn the house of Israel against itself, lest Israel not be able to stand. Jesus spoke about not being able to plunder a strong man’s house until you first bind the strong man. On the one hand, he is saying that he has bound Satan, otherwise he wouldn’t be casting out demons.
On the other hand, Jesus is warning the Scribes against binding the Holy Spirit. Don’t blaspheme against the Holy Spirit. Don’t ascribe the works of the Holy Spirit to Satan. Don’t lead the people of God away from their belief in God such that they only believe in you. If you do, you’ll be binding the Holy Spirit.
Now, we can’t exactly bind the Holy Spirit. We are not more powerful than God, but look at what happened in Nazareth. The scribes claimed Jesus was healing and casting out demons with the power of Satan, rather than the power of the Holy Spirit. Then, the next time Jesus returned to Nazareth, he could do no great deed of power there because of the people’s unbelief.
It seems that the Holy Spirit had been bound in that place because the people had been led astray.
The scribes, like the Pharisees seemed to be so bound by the rules of their religion, that they couldn’t leave room for God’s Holy Spirit.
We need rules and people who love them. We also need openness to the promptings of the Holy Spirit and people who are attuned to those promptings. We need doubters and those strong in their faith. We need the nuts and bolts type folks and the crazy dreamers. We need those just seeking and exploring Christianity and those who have been Christians as long as they can remember. We need the possible heretics and the sound theologians. Those deeply rooted in prayer and faith, and those who are so busy they are hanging on by a thread. The sinners and well, the sinners. Those sinners who are committed to the way of Jesus while still messing us, and those sinners in strong need of repentance so that they can start on the way of Jesus. Those whose faith and works in Jesus challenge us and those whose faith and way seem very much like ours.
We need all of us together.
So I’ve got a song to sing which I wrote called, “Faith Is A Daring Way.” It’s looking at the church through the eyes of someone who has been rejected by a church and then is able to find a way forward in his faith in Jesus with others. As a side note, I love our way of worship. I used it as the example of the church rejecting the guy simply because it’s what I know.
Faith Is A Daring Way They gather for prayer, pretend the world’s not there. Behind their hallowed walls, they hide from the fall. But you can’t shut it out. Of this I have no doubt.
The white linens don’t tell me I’m forgiven, But the crimson stain reminds me I’m to blame. When faith eludes me, will the faithful exclude me.
They said you’re mired in sin, and so you can’t come in. But the Kingdom way, so they also say, Is a God who dances with second chances.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Faith is a daring way. Shame leads you astray. Faith is a daring way. Faith is a daring way.
So when you leave the shore in your quest for more. Sail with others, your sisters and brothers. The God who’s one in three will cry dance with me.
Faith is a daring way. Shame leads you astray. Faith is a daring way. Faith is a daring way.
Amen.
I thought for Trinity Sunday I’d preach about God as a frosted Donut, with God as the dough part, Jesus as the frosting, and the Holy Spirit as the hole, where you’re thinking, “what is it; it’s hard to define, but it isn’t a donut without it.” Then I thought that would be a terrible idea, and decided against it.
We just heard about Nicodemus coming to Jesus at night to question him, not like the Pharisees who questioned him during the day, trying to prove him wrong and make him look bad in front of everybody. Nicodemus came to Jesus and questioned him because he was genuinely curious and drawn to Jesus. Something about Jesus challenged or inspired Nicodemus, and he was led, I believe by the Holy Spirit to seek Jesus out and learn about him and from him. So he went under the cover of darkness to question Jesus.
Nicodemus was a man who was very secure in his religion. He had all the right knowledge about God, all the right answers, and all the right religious practices. I would say he was over-familiar with his faith, and so when he heard Jesus speak, he began to feel something was missing. What he had would no longer hold or sustain him. So he walked toward the light of Jesus, but into the darkness of unknowing.
That’s what happens when we follow the Holy Spirit. We move from the light of what we know and into the darkness of unknowing and uncertainty, trusting only in the light of Jesus.
In the Episcopal Church today, like in all denominations, a lot of people are not moving toward the light of Jesus. When checking a religious preference box on a survey, they no longer check “Christian,” and instead check “none.”
Some check the “none” box because they’ve grown contemptuous of the Christian faith. Dallas Willard described this problem as coming from over-familiarity, people who think they know all there is to know about Christianity, find it lacking, and turn away from the faith. Over-familiarity breeds unfamiliarity, which leads to contempt. Folks in this camp tend to feel that the Christian faith is about little more than avoiding a place called “Hell” when you die and that the Christian life is nothing more than spending an hour a week at worship in a church building.
It is easy cast stones at those who feel this way and are leaving the church, but if folks really believe that those two things are all Christianity is, avoiding a place called hell and spending an hour a week in worship, I can understand them not finding that faith fulfilling and sustaining. Over-familiarity led to unfamiliarity, which led to contempt.
I should also note that many of the folks who are leaving the church also say that they are very spiritual, just not religious. Folks are seeking God, seeking the mystery of God, and they sometimes find that they aren’t allowed that mystery in the church that they have known. Like Nicodemus, they are searching for something more.
We were called together by Jesus and anointed by the Holy Spirit not to avoid a place called “Hell” or to spend an hour a week in worship. We were called to believe in and follow Jesus and live as his disciples. We were anointed to live out God’s kingdom here on earth and to spread God’s kingdom to others. We were called by Jesus to show people the way of Jesus by how we live. We were called to teach people the way of Jesus by how we live and by what we say. We were commissioned by Jesus to lead others to be Jesus’ disciples as well, that they too might live out God’s kingdom here on earth.
Our time here in worship is not a minimum requirement to avoid a place called hell. Indeed, our entire way of life in following and believing in Jesus is not done to avoid a place called hell. We believe in and follow Jesus in order to know God, to love God and love other people as fully as possible.
We are called today to reverse this trend of people turning away from Jesus and leaving the church. There are a couple of things we must do in order to reverse this trend. The first is that we need to live our faith deeply and intentionally. We gather for worship to join together with God and one another sustain and guide us as we live our faith the rest of the week. We need to live and take seriously the practices of our faith: corporate worship and our sacramental life, daily prayer, reading scripture, loving our neighbors, seeing and treating others with dignity, practicing forgiveness and reconciliation.
The other thing we need to do in order to reverse the trend of people leaving the church is to live into the mystery of the Holy Spirit. Sustained by our faith and the practices of our faith, we need to have the courage of Nicodemus to be led into the darkness of unknowing. This means while keeping and cherishing our worship together, we also need to explore new ways of worship in order to reach those whose experience of church has led them away from Jesus rather than into an ever deeper relationship with him.
We must have courage as the church to proclaim our faith and way of life, and we must have courage as the church to listen deeply to the stories of those who don’t share our faith and way of life. We must be willing to step out into the darkness of unknowing in order to reach those who are there, and guide them to the light of Jesus.
We need to live into the hole of the donut, the indefinable, hard to grasp, Holy Spirit, which leads us places we’re not always comfortable going , but without which we cannot truly live the life of God, the life of the Trinity, the life of Jesus. Amen.
I was in Austin last night at a Rush concert with my brother. It was a great show, their 40th year as a band, and the 40 years of Rush tour. During one song from their Couterparts album, I turned to Kevin and said, “we first saw the concert for this album 21 years ago.” “No,” he said, and then realized, “oh my gosh it was 21 years.” Then we realized it was actually 23. It was a joyful moment remembering those times together and thinking about my brother’s and my love for each other over the past 23 years and the 14 before that.
I’ve had similar experiences of nostalgia and remembering life with joy when reading Scripture as well. Often, reading scripture brings me back to high school, when I first started reading scripture, and I remember the words of Jesus as I understood them then, when life seemed a bit simpler. Hearing and remembering Jesus’ words brings me joy.
I believe Jesus disciples also found joy when remembering Jesus’ words and prayer for them. I can imagine them, years after Jesus’ resurrection, facing hard times, persecution, rejection by some, and finding joy in remembering the words Jesus spoke to them in the prayer he prayed which we heard today in John’s Gospel. I don’t imagine Jesus’ disciples were overly happy when they were rejected, beaten, ridiculed, or generally hated by the world, but I can imagine them being joyful.
Jesus prayed that they would have joy. This is different from happiness. Happiness is good, but fleeting, and generally depends on the situation. We can’t be happy when we are sad, but we can be joyful.
So what is joy? For me, joy comes from knowing that I am staying true to Jesus’ way, staying true to my values, even when life is going rather less well than I would have hoped. Joy comes from the hope of the resurrection. Joy comes in being with my family. Joy comes in remembering Jesus’ prayer that we would be one with him, one with each other, and one with God. Joy comes in remembering Jesus’ prayer that God would protect us from the evil one and help us to walk and be sanctified in Jesus’ ways and in the truth of his word.
Joy comes in living out Jesus’ teachings and ways. One example recently was when I got a crack in my windshield. I had purchased some lumber, and the young man who was helping me load it into my car accidentally cracked my windshield with it. The look on his face said all I needed to hear. He was scared and wondering if he would lose his job and wondering how he was going to pay for it. As he asked for my number to make arrangements to pay for it, I told him not to worry about it. We haggled a bit, “no, let me fix it,” “no, it’s ok,” and we finally agreed that I appreciated his help and did not ask him to fix the windshield.
That brought me joy. I wasn’t overly happy about having a cracked windshield, but I was joyful about giving this young man grace and mercy. I don’t know what his wages are, but I think it’s safe to assume I am making more money than he is. I could afford this more than he could. So, I followed in what I believe to be the way of Jesus, and offered this man grace and mercy. That brought me much joy.
Jesus prayed that his joy would be complete in us. So, my question is, what about Jesus or your faith brings you joy? Hold on to those things. Life will not always be happy, but you can have joy, even in the difficult times, as Jesus prayed, that his joy in you would be complete. Amen.
6 Easter, Year B May 10, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX 1 John 5:1-6 John 15:9-17
Last year I spent some time teaching a leadership class in the middle school and a couple of elementary schools here, and one of the biggest challenges I found was that the kids had no idea how to show respect for their teachers. Sit up straight, look at the teacher when there’re talking to you, wait to speak until you’re called on…some of these basic things, they just didn’t know.
Some didn’t care, but many didn’t want to be disrespecting their teachers, they just had no idea that’s what they were doing. They needed to be taught how to show respect.
Jesus said to his disciples, “I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.” We need to be taught how to love others, just like the students needed to be taught how to show respect. If we are faithful to Jesus, we end up loving one another.
Did you notice, however, that John said that through our faith, we get to conquer the world? “And this is the victory that conquers the world, our faith.” John was talking about a struggle between the faith of Jesus’ disciples, and “the world’s hatred.” Jesus warned his disciples that the world would hate them because they were Jesus’ disciples. John was exhorting his community to remain faithful despite any hatred they might encounter.
Despite opposition you may encounter: Love God by obeying his commandments, and if you do, you’ll conquer the world.
Well, the first part of that makes sense. Kids, if you want to give your moms a great Mothers’ Day present, do what they say immediately and without complaint. That’s how you can show your moms that you love them. “Abide in my love,” Jesus says, along with, “If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love.” That could sound rather Machiavellian. “Obey me to show that you love me.” But obedience to Jesus is what, that we love one another. Jesus gave other teachings, all to the end that we would love one another and by doing so, love God.
Remain faithful, Jesus is saying. Remain faithful to Jesus’ teachings. Remain faithful to his way. Remain faithful to him, and if we do, Jesus says we’ll be loving one another and loving God.
John tells us, on the other hand, that if we’re faithful, we’ll conquer the world.
Some see this as promise of military-like subjugation of all non-Christians under a throne of Christianity. Well, unlike ISIS, we don’t conquer through subjugation. Jesus conquered by letting the world kill him. It was the most loving thing he could do. He loved the world and gave his life in order to care for and protect the world.
That was God’s command to humanity through Adam an d Eve. Have dominion over the earth and subdue it, God said. Care for all of the earth and pacify it. You are caretakers over all the earth. Have dominion or conquer the world by loving the world and taking good care of it.
That is how we conquer the world, by lovingly caring for the world. Doing so fulfills God’s first commandment to the man and woman he created in his image. “Be fruitful.”
Galatians 5:22-23 tells us, “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”
That is how we obey God’s very first commandment, by being loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, gentle, and self-controlled. That is how we love God by obeying him. As Jesus told his disciples, he gave us these commands so that we may love one another.
For the students I was teaching in the schools last year, I told them that they could control if their school year went well or badly. If they showed respect to their teachers from day one, they’d find their teachers not to be nearly so grumpy as they often were. If they showed respect, worked well in class, and brought that way to others, they could change the whole school. I didn’t say they’d conquer their school, but that’s what they’d be doing.
The gifts of the spirit, faithfulness to God’s commandments, loving, honoring, respecting one another…that is how we conquer the world. Our faithfulness to Jesus and his teachings and command to love, that is how we are faithful to God’s command to be fruitful, to care for the world, each other. That is how we conquer the world. That is how we are faithful.
Amen.
5 Easter, Year B - May 3, 2015 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX Brad Sullivan
I’m going to talk today about a concept called “Ubuntu”. Ubuntu comes from the Bantu language in southern Africa, and roughly translates as “humanity toward others”. Ubuntu is also a concept of our interconnectedness as people, the basic idea being, “I am because you are.” We are not human beings by ourselves, and we cannot be truly human without others.
Anglican Archbishop Desmond Tutu, the first black archbishop of Cape Town South Africa, spoke often of the concept of Ubuntu in his and a major voice in ending apartheid there. He preached peace and reconciliation
Of Ubunto, he said: Ubuntu is a concept that we have in our Bantu languages at home. Ubuntu is the essence of being a person. It means that we are people through other people. We can’t be fully human alone. We are made for interdependence, we are made for family. Indeed, my humanity is caught up in your humanity, and when your humanity is enhanced mine is enhanced as well. Likewise, when you are dehumanized, inexorably, I am dehumanized as well. As an individual, when you have Ubuntu, you embrace others. You are generous, compassionate.
As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. preached, “In a real sense all life is inter-related. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. This is the interrelated structure of reality.”
This doesn’t exactly square with rugged American individualism, but Ubuntu does square with Jesus’ teachings.
Ubuntu is the essence of Jesus’ teaching about the vine. Jesus is the vine. His Father is the vinegrower. We are the branches. We are connected to one another, even when we feel that we are disconnected. These feelings of disconnection were made clear again last week with the riots and looting in Baltimore, following the death of a man while in police custody.
Folks seemed to feel they were on different vines than each other. I doubt if one of the looters saw his best friends’ store, that he would harm it. Seeing a strangers’ store, however, it seemed like something on a different vine. I’m not defending the looting. It was wrong. It highlights, however, that people feel very disconnected from each other, even as if on two different vines which attack each other then in contact.
In reality, we all belong to one another, and none of us can grow as we should when some of us are not growing as we should.
It only seems right, then, that Jesus talks not only of pruning those branches that do bear fruit, so they can grow more fully, but Jesus also talks of cutting off and casting away those branches that do not bear fruit. The branches that do not abide in him are cut off.
We hear this part of the parable and may be a bit scared by it. I always was. There always seemed this threat that you better abide in Jesus or else. Jesus’ teaching about the vine seems, however, to be less of a threat and more of a description of how life is. If we don’t abide in God, the source of all life, then how can we flourish and bear fruit? If we don’t abide in Jesus, then we’ve severed our connection to life already. “Being cut off” is then finishing that removal, that disconnection.
This does not give us the authority to determine who is cut off. As I’ve said for the past couple of weeks, we don’t get to say that someone isn’t good enough or Christian enough and therefore kick them out.
God does the cutting, not the branches.
What we are to do is to live Ubuntu, to abide in love. That’s what we hear in 1 John, “if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.” Loving one another is how we abide in Jesus. Abiding in Jesus is how we bear fruit.
We have an opportunity this fall to live Ubuntu as we will be mentoring children in Linnie Roberts Elementary School. The kids we will be mentoring may not have the best situation at home. Their parents may be struggling to provide the necessities and may be suffering under that stress.
The lives of these kids may seem like a different vine.
They aren’t.
We’re all on the same vine.
We’ve got a chance to live that truth out, providing love and encouragement for children who need it. We have an opportunity to live love and to bear fruit as Jesus told us to.
In order to bear fruit, we are dependent not only on Jesus, the true vine, and we are dependent not only on God, the vine dresser. We are interdependent on each other. Amen.
Bishop Doyle has said that the church does not have a mission, rather, "God's mission has a church" in order to live out that mission. God's mission is to reconcile all things to himself, and that is the mission that the church was formed to live out. Sometimes, however, we lose our way and forget what God's mission is.
Not long ago, I spoke with a young woman who had grown up in the church and then fell away from the church during college. This was largely because she was with a campus church group for a while, but when she revealed to them that she was not a virgin, they told her that she was no longer a Christian, and they kicked her out. They did a very effective job too, because she is now not a part of any church and barely even nominally Christian. They replaced God with their morality and put it in the place of God's mission to reconcile all things to himself.
I wonder if they had John 3:1-7 in mind when they kicked this young woman out of the church. "Everyone who commits sin is guilty of lawlessness. Sin is lawlessness. You know that he was revealed to take away sin, and in him there is no sin. No one who abides in him sins. No one who sins has either seen him or known him."
Well, I guess that just clears everything up. They were right, and the young woman should have been kicked out! Except that the passage doesn't clear everything up, and they were wrong.
When we sin (not simply break a rule - Jesus broke rules to do what was right), when we harm someone else or ourselves, then we're not really living into God's love. When we harm people, when we sin, when we miss the mark, not abiding in God. We're not living into God's way of being open-hearted with ourselves, with each other, and with God. That's what John is saying.
What did Jesus say God's way was, the way that was to be proclaimed to all nations? In Luke 24, Jesus told his disciples that God's way is "repentance and forgiveness of sins". That is God's way, God's mission for which he made the church, to reconcile all things to himself.
You can't do that if you kick someone out for messing up.
We can't replace God with a moral code.
Now, moral codes are good as far as things go. They help guide us in living such that we don't harm people. I had a conversation with this young woman who had been kicked out of her church for not being a virgin, and talked about why the rule or the way of not having sex before a loving, committed marriage might be a good way to live. You could end up with a child you didn't want. The child is still a blessing, and things could work out great, but life is hard enough without making it more difficult. Sex without the commitment and covenant of marriage can be done without truly honoring the other or oneself. It can be done just to get your jollies off, and can harm a potentially good relationship when expectations, honor, and love aren't shared.
So we have this rule, this way of life, but when we break it, as many Christians do, we're not removed from the church. We're not removed from Jesus. We're shown that our actions probably weren't the best, and we're given repentance, and forgiveness, and grace, and, love and mercy so that we can fully honor each other.
God's mission is to reconcile all things to himself through repentance and forgiveness. If all it was was to follow the rules, then we have no need for Jesus.
So as we live our lives as disciples of Jesus, we're going to continue to strive to follow some good rules, good morality and ways of life in which we seek to honor one another and not to harm one another. We're also going to continue to mess that up, and we're going to break the rules. We're going to not be moral all the time.
When we do so, we're still Jesus' church. We're still that group of people through whom God is living out his mission here on earth, that mission for which we were formed, to help reconcile all things to God, to live out and proclaim repentance and forgiveness of sins, and to embody God's grace and love here on earth to each other, to those we know.
For God's mission has a church, and we are that church to live out and proclaim God's mission of reconciliation, forgiveness, and love.
Amen.
We heard today about Thomas doubting that his fellow disciples had seen the risen Jesus, and we hear about Jesus giving the Holy Spirit to his disciples and telling them to continue his work of forgiveness and reconciliation.
Have you ever heard someone say, "May God forgive you, because I never will"? I think I've heard it more in movies than in real life, and Queen Elizabeth I is reported to have said those words, but I'm guessing she's not the only person in the history of Christianity to utter those words. "God may forgive you, but I can't."
Who are we to think our complaint is greater than God's so that we can't forgive? Of course we don't forgive and feel that we can't when we still feel the darkness of the hurt that was caused and we see the other as that person who caused us pain.
How then does God see us, that he can forgive us? God sees us as beloved and broken, and hurting each other out of our brokenness. God forgives us and sent Jesus to forgive us, and then Jesus sent his disciples to continue God's work of reconciliation and forgiveness.
"Receive the Holy Spirit," Jesus said to his disciples, "If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained." Jesus sent his disciples to continue his work.
So when we don't forgive others, we are actually thwarting the work of Jesus. We're denying the work of God when we don't forgive.
1 John 1:7-8 tells us, "If we say we have no sin, then we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us, but if we confess our sins, then he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness." God forgives us. Who are we not to?
In fact, as 1 John 1:6 says, "if we say we have fellowship with God while we are walking in darkness," say holding that grudge and not forgiving, "then we lie and do not do what is true, but if we walk in the light as he is in the light, then we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin."
How do we square that, then with all of what Jesus told his disciples when he appeared to them in the upper room. "If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained"? If Jesus telling his disciples that it is up to their good judgement as to when not to forgive? If someone really really upsets you, then don't forgive?
That doesn't seek to square with Jesus' death on the cross, or what we heard in 1 John about holding darkness within us. Not forgiving seems rather to be thwarting the work of Jesus. Jesus gave his disciples the Holy Spirit so that they and we could declare God's forgiveness on others. I think Jesus' statement to his disciples was not a command not to forgive, but a warning of what happens when we don't. Beware in this ministry of reconciliation which I have given you to do, that when you don't forgive others, those sins are held, and that darkness that you hold on to thwarts the will of God.
Philippians 2:5-7 says, "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness." Jesus emptied himself of his majesty and humbled himself. Jesus chose forgiveness over righteous punishment. For the same mind to be in us, we also would forgive, rather than holding onto our possibly righteous anger, and we would continue the work of reconciliation.
What of Thomas? What is the role of doubt in this work? Jesus said in John 10, to those who did not believe in him, "If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe me, but if I do them, then even if you don't believe me, believe the works..." There are lots of people who don't believe, and that's ok. Thomas doubted, and that was ok. What wouldn't have been ok is if Thomas didn't forgive.
Folks may not believe in Jesus, but when they see the way and the works of Jesus through the forgiveness and reconciliation we offer, then they may come to believe through those works. We may doubt, but when we do, we must still forgive.
In order to do this work of forgiveness and reconciliation, I offer one final piece of scripture, that we might continue walking in the light of Jesus: Colossians 3:12-15. "As God's chosen one, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other, just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful." Amen.
I love Jesus and the resurrection. As a Christian, that may seem obvious, but those two things are why I am a Christian. I love who Jesus was, the God of the universe become human to unite us with God. I love what he did and taught, his way, and how he treated people. Those were not just things that Jesus did, that was who Jesus was.
We saw who Jesus was exemplified in his final night with his disciples as he washed their feet and prayed that they would love one another. Then, when Jesus was resurrected, he found that his prayer had been answered and his commandment followed. At least some of his disciples were still together. When Mary thought someone had taken Jesus' body, she knew where to go to find Peter.
They were still together, still loving one another, and when they went back to see the empty tomb, Peter and the other disciple seemed to have some inkling of what had happened. They remembered Jesus' words that he would be raised, perhaps? John doesn't write that, but they seemed to have some hope at least.
Mary Magdalene, on the other hand remained weeping beside the tomb. Then Jesus appeared to her and consoled her, showing her the truth of his resurrection.
Without the resurrection all of this is nothing. Without the resurrection, Jesus wasn't God; he was just a pretty good preacher who had a following.
With the resurrection, however, we see that all Jesus said and did, all that Jesus was is true. Mary saw Jesus resurrected and knew that Jesus was true, that there is life after death, and there is truth of everything he taught and did.
All that Jesus was, he still is in the resurrection. Jesus told his disciples they were one with him, remember. He prayed that just as he and the father were one, so would they be one. With Jesus' resurrection, then, all that Jesus was (taught, did, loved,etc.) the disciples were also.
So we too are one with Jesus, and are all that he was. Jesus' teachings, his way, his loving is not just what we do. Love is a verb, we do love, but it isn't just what we do. It is what we are.
We share in his life, in who we are, and we will also then share in his death and share in his resurrection.
Even when we are weeping by the tomb, we weep with hope, hope that Jesus will come and reveal himself and his resurrection to us. In the mean time, we gather with our fellow disciples to be Jesus for each other, sharing his life together, just as we will one day share his death and share his resurrection. Amen.
Sometimes it feels as though Jesus is gone, like he is simply not there in our lives. Jesus has declared us to be one with him, as made evident in the last supper, and yet in John's Gospel, he does not tell about the last supper...at least not about the bread and wine being Jesus' body and blood. That has been discussed in chapter 6.
In John's Gospel, the final meal Jesus had with his disciples is told primarily through the story of Jesus washing his disciples' feet, and commanding them to love one another as he has loved them.
This was Jesus' death bed prayer for his disciples. "Little children", he calls them. I am reminded of an image of a parent on the death bed, telling his kids that he will no longer be with them, and praying that they will stay together and love each other after he is gone.
We harm each other, as the Body of Christ; there are times when we are not overly loving to one another. Jesus' death bed prayer, however, was that when we do harm each other, we would forgive each other and love one another as he has loved us.
We need each other. There are and there will be times when we feel lost, when we feel as though Jesus is not there. In those times, Jesus' prayer is that we will turn to each other for love, strength, and support and that Jesus will be with us through each other, even when he is arrested, and crucified, and in the tomb. Amen.
Ah, holy Jesus, how hast thou offended, that we to judge thee have in hate pretended? By foes derided, by thine own rejected, O most afflicted!
Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee? Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee! 'Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee; I crucified thee.
Therefore, kind Jesus, since I cannot pay thee, I do adore thee, and will ever pray thee, think on thy pity and thy love unswerving, not my deserving.
Jesus’ response to the news that some Greeks were looking for him seems odd. “The hour has come for the son of man to be glorified.” Just before this, Jesus had come into Jerusalem, the crowds cheered, and the Pharisees said, “You see, you can do nothing. Look, the whole world has gone after him.” The Greeks’ appearance and searching confirms what was said by the Pharisees – “the whole world has gone after him.” The cat’s out of the bag and there’s no stopping it now.
They were right. Early church had no buildings or organized support. They could not worship in the synagogues, nor in the Roman temples, and yet the church, Jesus’ believers spread like wildfire.. They had to believe in Jesus, trust in him, and risk for their belief in Jesus…and the church thrived. The Gospel of Jesus and belief in Jesus spread like wildfire.
Contrast with: How many articles, seminars, discussions have I read, attended, and participated in which have to do with growing the church again and reversing the decline of church attendance? People have spoken of church as a business – we need more people in order to keep the lights on.
I love our church, our buildings, etc. I recognize the reality that with church attendance decline, the thought of this building not being here in 100 years is a possibility. I don’t operate out of fear of that possibility. “Those who want to save their life will lose it.”
Ultimately, we’re talking about risk. Greeks risked. Early followers of Jesus risked being kicked out of their synagogues, which they were. Gentiles risked being ostracized.
Gospel of Jesus demands risk, and it demands that we invite others to share in the Gospel, not solely for our sake, but for theirs as well, we risk becoming something other than what we are.
Our future is uncertain. Jesus told us it would be. Following Jesus means risking that uncertainty. Our faith is not in ourselves, our buildings, our organization. Our faith is in Jesus, who himself risked everything for the sake of all people.
“’Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.’ He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.” (John 12:33)
How did Jesus know that he would be raised and lifted up from the earth after he was crucified? My guess is he didn’t know it. He believed it. How did Jesus know that he would draw all people to himself? How did he know that people wouldn’t simply forget, not believe, or ignore his life, message, and resurrection? How did he know the church would spread like wildfire. My guess is he didn’t know it. He believed it.
Jesus believed in God, and because of that belief, he risked everything for the sake of all humanity.
He asks us, then to risk as well, for the sake of his Gospel and for the sake of humanity, for the sake of people who may hear, receive, and live Jesus through the risks we take.
After Easter, I’m asking all of us to risk a little bit of time and maybe some tired eyes by reading a book together in small groups called, “Transformed.” Bishop Doyle introduced us to the book and the author, Caesar Kalinowski, at clergy conference. We heard him describe life at his church, life lived in community all together, worshipping as one at their church building, and life also lived in smaller communities of friends and neighbors who have meals together, pray together, study scripture together, and serve others together.
Together, these small communities bring people to Jesus, people who would not come to a church building. Lives are transformed through the Gospel.
To be clear, lives are transformed here too, but I wouldn’t say the Gospel is spreading like wildfire. The Gospel spreads when we risk. When we risk living in community together, intentionally as Jesus’ disciples, when we risk serving others and sharing the Gospel with others, then the Gospel spreads because we are showing people Jesus.
What are we willing to risk for the sake of Jesus and his Gospel? What are we willing to risk for the sake of the people whom we can introduce to Jesus, the people whose lives can be transformed by the Gospel? Amen.
Jesus said he came to bring light, to save the world. There seem to be a lot of "no"s with Jesus, e.g. the 10 Commandments. There are several things we are not supposed to do. Those "no"s, however, are really a way of saying "yes" to something else.
We say no to harming people (adultery, theft, murder, lies against someone) so that we might say yes to loving other people. We say no to putting things in front of or in place of God so that we can say yes to God, yes to life, love, beauty, and relationship.
We say no to hiding in the darkness, to keeping ourselves covered with fig leaves. In the Garden of Eden, the first thing Adam and Eve did after disobeying God was to cover themselves up with fig leaves. They were ashamed and they hid. That way they no longer had to connect to God or each other. They tried to stay safely hidden and invulnerable to each other.
There are all kinds of fig leaves with which we try to cover ourselves. Sometimes rules and law become those fig leaves that we hide behind.
Jesus was talking with Nicodemus about the need that we have to be born from above, and Nicodemus totally didn't get it. Nicodemus was a Pharisee, and as such, he had all the rules down pat, but those rules seem to have become fig leaves with which they covered themselves so they didn't have to be vulnerable with God.
Jesus said that instead we need to born from above; we need to be guided by the Holy Spirit, which is a lot riskier way to live. We don't know where the Spirit will lead us. Following all the rules may be difficult, but it is secure, it keeps us covered like a fig leaf.
The rules, however, don't cover every situation. Our relationships are much trickier that than. Our marriages, raising kids, being with people is much trickier than saying, "here is the rule, and I will follow it no matter what." We must be vulnerable enough to be guided by the Holy Spirit.
Without being guided by the Holy Spirit, even saying we believe in Jesus can become a fig leaf with which we cover ourselves. I've heard of folks who say that because they are Christian, because they believe in Jesus, they can kinda do whatever they want because Jesus will forgive them. It doesn't work that way.
Saying you can do what you want and Jesus will forgive you is to put Jesus up as a fig leaf so you don't actually have to be vulnerable with others, so you don't actually have to be in healthy, loving, and life-giving relationships with others. If we live lives in which we're breaking all the rules and commandments, then we're probably masking something else, so need or hurt or hunger which we're trying to fill through destructiveness.
Jesus didn't come to be our fig leaf. He came to be our light, to expose the darkness, to remove the fig leaves and return us to Eden. Jesus came that we might again be naked and unashamed with God and with each other. Jesus came that we might be born from and guided by the Holy Spirit in a risky and vulnerable life, saying "yes" to loving God and loving each other. Amen.
I stopped drinking coffee last week, not out of a Lenten discipline, but simply because I was drinking too much, still tired all the time, and I thought, "This won't do." The week was fine until Thursday. I had a long day leading to a long night, and I wanted just one cup of coffee in the afternoon.
Then I thought, "I can do all things through God who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13). I prayed that scripture, and I was suddenly no longer tired. God answered yes, and gave me strength.
I realized then that my comments in weeks past about diet coke and chocolate not meaning that much as Lenten sacrifices were wrong. If giving those things up can bring you to pray, "I can do all things through God who strengthens me," then it is a great disciple. Anything in your life that just won't do is a great Lenten sacrifice.
Jesus saw the money changers and the animals in the temple and thought, "this won't do." He was not, however, cleansing the temple as many Bible section headings say. Jesus was seeking to reform the temple.
Money was paid to the temple for its upkeep, and the money changers were there to trade foreign coins for coins proper for the temple. It was like a currency exchange when we go to other countries. There was likely however some underhanded profit going on, and that wouldn't do.
The animals that were there were supposed to be there. People were supposed to bring animals for sacrifice, the best they had. If their animals were deemed unworthy sacrifices, they would be redeemed for a certain amount of money. This was practice recorded in Leviticus.
It seems that for Jesus, however, the practice had gone on long enough. My guess is that the heart of the practice (giving the best you had to the Lord) had departed somewhat, and it had simply become a transactional arrangement. Not to mention that for centuries, God had been speaking through the prophets saying, "stop sacrificing animals. I made them all and I don't need any from you." Jesus saw all that was going on and said, "this won't do," and he sought to reform the Temple.
So, what in our life needs reforming? We've heard for a long time now about our need to live our lives as disciples of Jesus beyond the walls of the church building. Bishop Doyle has talked about it, and he brought Caesar Kalinowski to our last clergy conference to talk about his book, "Transformed".
In the book, he talks about life as Jesus' disciples being about not only the couple of hours at worship on Sunday, but also about the other 6 days and 22 hours. Salvation isn't just about getting a ticket punched to go to heaven when we die, but also about living as Jesus' disciples, his brothers and sisters, as servant missionaries. The church is the people, not the building.
He describes living out this life in simple ways of being together with "missionary communities", small groups of people from the larger church community who gather regularly to eat together, pray and study together, and live as Jesus' missionaries. If a neighbor is in need, they wouldn't necessarily call the pastor, they'd call their missionary community and help out together.
We'll be studying Caesar Kalinowski's book, "Transformed" over the next several Sundays (beginning March 22), and also in small groups after Easter.
That is the way of Jesus which we are going to be living at St. Mark's. Growing deeply with one another, and serving our community as Jesus' brothers and sisters. Such a life may seem daunting or difficult, but like our Lenten disciplines, we can do all things through God who strengthens us. Amen.
I received an article about resilience written by Terri Hendrix. Thinking about her friends who had gone through difficult times, she thought the dictionary definitions of resilience we lacking. They didn't simply bounce back.
She wrote: “No matter how much faith we might carry in our hearts, I think it's unlikely for most of us to be pliable enough to return to our original form 'after being bent, compressed, and stretched to the breaking point.' When you walk through the bowels of hell and make it out the other side, I doubt you're unscathed from the journey...Perhaps resilience is simply mastering the art of living. Whatever it is, I think the interim between the dark and daylight is pure hell. And that's a pit you don't just "bounce" out of - you have to climb. You stick your hands into the sides of the unknown and claw until your nail beds peel back. Then you claw some more."
As disciples of Jesus, we are a people of resilience. Not because tragedy bounces off of us, not because we get over it so quickly. We are resilient because we are willing climb out of the pit, to stick our hands into the sides of the unknown and claw. We are also resilient because we do not climb and claw alone.
I don’t know at what point Jesus realized he was going to face a violent, bloody, and painful death. He was faithful in accepting this fate, and in believing that he would rise again after three days. We also see from his agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, however, that he was not entirely overjoyed at the prospect of being mocked, beaten, and crucified. Going on with his daily life of teaching, preaching, healing, and caring for others required resilience.
Jesus had to claw his way out of the pit of fear and despair to go on with daily living, with the knowledge of his impending violent and bloody death. It took resilience for Jesus to do this, and it took his friends being there with him in that knowledge.
Jesus told his disciples about his death and resurrection so they would remember and believe, and I’d guess he also told them because he needed them for their support. He needed their help to be resilient. I’d guess that’s why his rebuke of Peter was so strong. Peter thought he was helping by saying Jesus should never have to go through suffering, but he was actually making it even more difficult for Jesus.
Denying someone’s pain or the hell someone is facing does not help them through it. Being there with them in the pain…that is what is needed for resilience, folks who’ll let you climb out of the pit and offer you a hand, not deny that you’re in the pit.
Peter had to be resilient too after his rebuke. He needed his friends there with him too. Resilience requires friends. Some parts are alone, then when we need friends to help pull us out, we really need them.
As Christians, we are people of resilience. We are dragged down into pits of fear and despair just like everyone else, but we are not alone. We have Jesus with us to be in there with us. Jesus supports us when we start clawing our way out of the pit. We have our friends to help pull us out of the pit. We don’t go through life unscathed, but we do go through with resilience, trusting in Jesus who faced hatred, scorn, torture, and death with resilience. Teaching us, his disciples to walk in that same way in which he led.
There is a song which my son sings from Vacation Bible School last summer that says, "I want to be like Jesus." I've often heard this idea that we want to be like Jesus. I understand the sentiment, but we may not actually want to try to be like Jesus. As we observe our Lenten fasts, we realize that our fasting was inspired by Jesus' 40 days in the wilderness fasting and being tempted by Satan. We aren't really trying to copy or be like Jesus in our fasts, however. Jesus' fast and trials with Satan were his task and his story, not ours. His story is that of the eternal Word of God becoming human to unite us with God. His fast and his story was that of the cosmic struggle between creation and the forces of darkness, and Jesus defeated the forces of darkness. That was his story to tell. Our stories are not of cosmic victory over the forces of darkness, nor are they supposed to be. Jesus was God incarnate. We often can't go 40 days without diet coke and chocolate. Lent is not a time to compare ourselves to Jesus and feel badly because we aren't more like him. Lent is a time to get to know Jesus more, to get to know ourselves more, and to become more like who we truly are. Whatever our vocation, we live and proclaim the Kingdom of God because we are Jesus' disciples, baptized into his body. We do so in the ways our personalities, vocations, and talents allow. We don't try to be like Jesus and beat ourselves up for falling short. We be who we are, and seek to be more fully who we are.
There are many ways that we try to escape life, many exit doors we take. Some seem fairly innocuous (TV, food, alcohol), while others are obviously more insidious (drug addiction, alcoholism, pornography). All of these escape routes are ways we fantasize about a better, more important life, in which we are great and our problems few. Such fantasies are what "the hypocrites" had in Jesus' day when they prayed, fasted, and gave alms for others to see them and think they were wonderful. They were masking who they truly were behind a front of greatness. We are told by Jesus not to put on a show or to fake who we are in front of others, but to be vulnerable enough with others for them to see us as we truly are. Deep down, we're all beloved of God, and deep down, we're all kind of a mess. In giving things up for Lent this year, I thought about giving up coffee, but so what. So I'd be tired by mid-morning for a month. Instead, I'm going to give up my B.S. I joke with people a lot in order to mask my insecurity and shyness. Joking keeps me from having to be vulnerable with folks. So, I'm going to work on being more authentically who I am with people, even when it's uncomfortable. My encouragement is that we all strive to be more vulnerable with each other and with God. Jesus already knows that we're a bit of a mess, and he declares us beloved just as we are.
The way of Jesus is the way of vulnerability and reconciliation. With Jesus, we get to be 100% who we are, including all of what makes of ashamed, and we are told that we are still worthy of love and belonging. We are reconciled and nothing will separate us from God's love. That means we get to be vulnerable with those we love and let our true selves show, warts and all. When Jesus was transfigured on the mountain, he brought only his three closest friends / disciples. He brought only those he knew he could trust with the revelation of his truest, inmost self. I can imagine Jesus being anxious about how his friends would react, thinking that they might run pell-mell down the mountain or be totally freaked out by him from then on. They were a bit freaked, wanting to build a booth for Jesus, supposedly so he could stay up there, and they could visit from a safe distance. Jesus wasn't having it, however, and came on down the mountain with them, telling then not to share what they had seen. They had to be ok with Jesus not only as their carpenter/rabbi friend, but as the Son of God as well. That was something he could share only with his closest friends at the time, and they could accept it, see his true self, and still love him. With reconciliation, we have the same vulnerability Jesus did, exposing our inner self which we often hide from others, exposing our misdeeds and our shame, hoping that they do not make us unlovable. Then, with reconciliation, we find that we are absolved and reconciled. We are still lovable. We are not defined by our sins. We are defined as God's beloved children, worthy of love and belonging. Our sins get in the way of our relationships, but they do not define us. Admitting our faults to God, and admitting our faults to others who are trusted enough to hear them is a vulnerable act, and one that frees us from our shame so that we can live not as the sum total of our sins, but as the beloved people we are. The sacrament of Reconciliation of a Penitent is offered in the Episcopal Church as well. It is offered to all as a helpful way to speak out loud one's sins in a totally confidential conversation. Then the person gets to hear the words of God's forgiveness proclaimed by a priest. While we know in our heads that God forgives us, our hearts often need to hear the words spoken by a human being. Then the priest lays the conversation on the altar and gives it to God, never to be brought up by the priest again. In whatever form it comes, the vulnerability of reconciliation is a huge part of our life as Jesus disciples. Jesus knows we are a mess, and he declares us beloved.
Jesus' fame spread for his healing, but when folks gathered around looking for him, Jesus told his disciples that he wanted to go on to the surrounding region of Galilee to preach the gospel there also, for that is what he had come to do. The beginning of my call as a priest involved reading the Bible and seeing time and again how the religion of Israel eclipsed the God and the Kingdom of God which the religion was meant to connect people to and help them live. I noticed the same thing with Christianity, ways in which love of "church" as institution got in the way of people's discipleship of Jesus and living out the Kingdom of God. Then, two weeks ago, Bishop Doyle in his address to Diocesan Council said that for too long the church has been clergy led with lay support. He wants to see a church that is lay led with clergy support. Those words spoke directly to my call. We are to live out our lives as Jesus' disciples though service, evangelism, and reconciliation. The structures and institution of the church is here to help us in this way of life, not to do it for us. True service means not only charity (largely crisis care), but serving with, building people up through mutual service, relationship, and digging deep into the causes of need, not just band-aids on the symptoms. True evangelism in not standing on a street corner with a bullhorn. That's what crazy people do. Evangelism means invitation into conversation, sharing the deep parts of ourselves with others. Conversation does not mean conversion. We share intimately our faith in order to know others and to be known by them. They are not required to adopt our faith. We invite others to worship with us, to share in our way of life, to introduce them to Jesus. If they believe, then great. If not, then they can still belong as we connect on the deep heart to heart, bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh level. True reconciliation means sitting down with our enemies, the people whose beliefs we abhor, those who have hurt us, and truly listening to them. Reconciliation means seeking to know them also on the heart to heart level. Reconciliation means also learning how we have hurt the other. Doing so is painful. It cuts us, and we bleed, but as we saw in the cross of Jesus, reconciliation requires blood. Service, evangelism, reconciliation, a church that is lay led with clergy support. In these ways we live into Jesus' mission to go into Galilee and preach the gospel, for that is what he has formed us to do.
Jesus taught with authority and cast a demon out of a man in the Synagogue. In the cosmic struggle between light and dark, he was obviously on the side of light (even though he wasn't yet known as the Word of God which spoke creation into existence). He was a powerful force for light, and yet his detractors began to spread as fast as his admirers. Religious leaders feared him because he threatened the norm. Folks may have followed him instead of them, and so they responded out of fear. Faith is not the way of fear. Faith is the way of boldness and daring. It took boldness and daring for the man with the unclean spirit to enter the Synagogue. He was unclean and so shouldn't have been there, but he came seeking healing from Jesus. When we see people enter our churches who are unclean, sinners in need of healing, folks without faith, the fearful response is to have them leave so that we don't get dragged down by their unbelief or wayward living. The faithful response is to say "come, welcome". If sinners can't come seek healing in the church, where can they go? "Come and be healed by Jesus, even as we are being healed by Jesus." Another fearful response we have in the church is our response to other churches. We often don't minister together with other churches, afraid of their differences, afraid that members from our church may like them better, or afraid that one of us is doing things wrong. That is how the scribes and the Pharisees responded to Jesus. A faithful response is for us to work together. Jesus can bring greater healing through us when we work together as one church, when we respond with boldness and daring.
The first part of creation that wasn't good was that the man was alone. We were made for deep down "bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh", heart to heart connection. Without it, creation is not good. Johann Hari believes that disconnection is a root cause of addiction. While drugs play a big part, people with poor or no deep connection to others are more likely to become addicted to drugs, and folks with deep connection to others are more likely to recover from addiction. (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/johann-hari/the-real-cause-of-addicti_b_6506936.html). He writes:
"The rise of addiction is a symptom of a deeper sickness in the way we live -- constantly directing our gaze towards the next shiny object we should buy, rather than the human beings all around us."
If ever there was a time to fish for people, it is now. Jesus came to heal our disconnection from God and our disconnection from each other. He called us to bring that good news to other and to fish for people. What does that look like? Do we invite people to church? Do we connect with friends on a deep, heart to heart level? Do we share our faith with others? Yes to all. We're not seeking to change people, but to connect with them. If someone isn't a Christian, but is your friend, invite that person to church...not to convert them, but to share with them something important to you, to connect with them on the "bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh", heart to heart level. Let them belong, even without believing. Jesus came to heal our disconnection, not to force or coerce us, but to heal us.
Paul said to glorify God with our bodies, and he said not to join our bodies to a prostitute. We literally should not take another human being and turn them into an object for our visual arousal and physical pleasure.
Paul was likely also referring to the prophetic idea of chasing after other gods as chasing after prostitutes. One such "god / prostitute" is that of perfection.
We are constantly bombarded by airbrushed images of physical "perfection", an ideal body type that mostly doesn't exist. We are shown these images over and over so that we will pale by comparison and feel badly enough about ourselves to buy stuff to try to make ourselves look like airbrushed perfection.
We also try to appear or be perfect in other aspects of our lives. All of this perfection is a lie, and a prostitute we are chasing, rather than loving our bodies for what they are and what they can do, glorifying God in our bodies: we work, we play, we go through daily life, and our bodies should be loved for allowing us to do these things.
Nathaniel fell into this perfection trap when thinking of the Messiah. He wanted something of a super hero. Jesus, however, was not Captain America. He was a Jewish carpenter from Nazareth.
Jesus was also "Shekhinah", the indwelling presence of God. Jesus is the connection of humanity (and of all creation) to God. Jesus connects us to God. He does not connect some idealized, non-existent, airbrushed version of us to God. He connects us to God, as we truly are.
We aren't perfect. We don't have it all together. God doesn't expect us to. God didn't come among us as Captain America, but as a comparatively lame kinda guy...a regular carpenter. He connects regular our regular old selves to God, our beloved, marvelously made selves.
Baptism is like a second chance, a new start, and it brings us into a life of new starts which God offers as we continually do the wrong things, learn from those missteps, and try again to live well. These second chances, however, should not be taken lightly or wasted.
When we intentionally turn our lives back toward a harmful way we had been living, we are turning our backs on God's forgiveness and God's second chance. When we do so, there is often hell to pay...not eternal damnation, but hurt and damage in this life.
Living in the way of Jesus, on the other hand also has a cost. While God's forgiveness and second chances are freely given, the cost is how we live afterwards. While not very catchy, I'd say there's "heaven to pay." The cost of baptism, of following Jesus, is intentionally living as he taught, intentionally living so in such a way that if something is harmful to self or others, we won't do those things. We live the Kingdom Way, God's life of light and love.
The Epiphany of Jesus which we celebrate on January 6th is not really about the three magi or the gifts they bring. The Epiphany of Jesus is, surprisingly enough, about Jesus. When the magi visited Jesus, Jesus was revealed as Lord of Jew and Gentile, of all people. That's no surprise to us, but it was in Jesus' time.
For us, Jesus is Lord of all, regardless of race, political affiliation, gender, etc. When we come together to worship on Sunday; when we encounter Jesus in the scripture, prayers, and bread and wine; when we encounter Jesus in each other; we encounter Jesus as Lord of us all, and we can't have that encounter on the golf course, or in a fishing boat, on in your living room.
Jesus is in all of those places, and we can have spiritual encounters in all of those places, but only in communion and in community are we joined together by the Holy Spirit and manifest as Christ's body. In community, we are bound together in our disparate backgrounds, into the Body of Christ.
Epiphany is a big deal. Rejoice and be glad in it.
When Jesus was born, God became human and united himself to us forever. He was truly human, a real baby, just like us, and while I love the song "Away In A Manger", Jesus likely did cry that night. Perhaps Mary sang him a lullaby to help rock him to sleep. Parents sing lullabies to their children as they drift off to sleep to tell them, "I love you; be at peace; all is well." Jesus is like God's lullaby to us. God is telling us, "I love you; be at peace; all is well, and I will love you forever."
When Mary was told by the angel Gabriel that she would bear God's Son in her womb, she responded with peace and trust. The story seems otherworldly...most of us would likely freak right out. In truth, Mary's world was every bit as violent and terrible as ours. Her world also had love and beauty, as does ours. Mary's response reminds us of what our response can be. We too have Jesus living within us, within our bodies. That makes a difference in how we treat our bodies, and how we treat other people's bodies. Jesus living within our bodies also tells us how much God loves us and how important we and our bodies are to God. Living into that reality, that Jesus lives within our bodies, we can respond as Mary did, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord, let it be with me according to your word."
When I was in middle school, my mom went away for a week's vacation, and while she was away, my dad and brother and I let things slide a bit around the house. We ate dinner in front of TV every night, and then we had a bit of cleaning up to do to prepare for Mom's return. We weren't afraid she'd not stay if the house wasn't clean. We loved her and wanted to honor her as she came home. That's part of what's going on with John the Baptist in the baptism he gave and in our lives as we are baptized. We're preparing with joy for Jesus' return. We could be spotless or messy, but without Jesus, we are empty. Just like the house could have been messy or perfectly tidy, but without mom, it wasn't our home.
The beginning of the Gospel for Mark is not Jesus' birth, but his fulfilling of Isaiah's prophecy that God was returning peace, Shalom, to his people. Jesus healed people, forgave people, and then paid the penalty for all people on the cross. As we await Jesus' return, then, Peter tells us to be people of shalom (peace, love, heart to heart connection and reconciliation). We are told in Psalm 85:13 that Jesus pathway is the way of peace. When we seek and live shalom, we are making pathways for Jesus to walk with us. Trusting in him and accepting his peace, we find a return to Eden, walking with God as Adam and Eve walked with God in the Garden. That is just the beginning of the good news, according to Mark.
We joyfully anticipate Jesus' return. Advent is the joyful season of preparation in which we prepare for Christmas and in which we prepare our hearts for Jesus' return. Folks in scripture were often joyful at the thought of God coming, of the Lord's coming / return. They often had enemies, an "other" from whom they wanted God to save them.
We feel the same way about Jesus' return. At the same time, we must be aware that we must may be someone else's "other" because of whom they are joyfully awaiting Jesus' return.
Jesus' return is a joyful time and a time of fear and trembling. We should honor both. We should look into our hearts to see why we should have fear and trembling. We should repent of those ways.
At the same time, we get to joyfully anticipate Jesus' return, the day when he will put all things right.
In the mean time, we get to partner with Jesus in restoring creation. We get to serve others in Jesus' name. We get to seek Christ in all people. We get joyfully to anticipate his return.
Jesus told a parable about people who used oil lamps to see at night and some took just enough oil for their lamps. Others took an abundance of oil. Surprisingly enough, those who took just enough didn't have enough. As disciples of Jesus, we don't take just enough oil of discipleship. We don't say, "I've done enough discipleship; I've done enough healing; I've done enough reconciling. I'm good, and I don't need to do that anymore." That's not who we are as disciples of Jesus. As disciples of Jesus, we take with us an overabundance of the oil of discipleship as reconcilers and healers. We trust Jesus that he has made us into reconcilers and healers, and we practice our discipleship every day, trusting in him. We then don't worry about doing enough discipleship. We simply become his disciples and live naturally as his disciples as reconcilers and healers.
We are blessed by God. He has declared us his children. As we trust in God, we live more fully into our identity as God's children and the righteousness that dwells within us. The saints of God, those who have died and are still alive with God in Christ, help us to live into our identity as blessed and beloved of God.
God's love transforms us...if we let it. If we believe that God has already transformed us through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, then we can begin to trust that God's love dwells in us. We are his children, brothers and sisters of Jesus, sent by the Holy Spirit to help heal people, sharing God's love and the light of Jesus. That is the heart that was given to Paul, who had been a first century Jewish terrorist, gathering up Christians to be executed. He met Jesus and became an apostle of Jesus, loving so much the gentiles to whom he was sent, that he shared not only the Gospel of Christ, but his own self. It was not a burden for him but a joy. He was simply trusting in and living out his transformed self.
When we become disciples of Jesus, we put on "a wedding garment", meaning we adopt Jesus' life and his way of life. We often lose our focus and sometimes are distracted, take Jesus for granted or in other ways choose to take off that wedding garment, i.e. we stop living as Jesus taught; we stop truly believing in Jesus and his teachings. Keeping the wedding garment on, we continue in the joy of life of Jesus, described as a wedding banquet. As Paul writes: Rejoice in the Lord always...let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything...and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
The trap of the Chief Priests and the elders was that of holy living, but with contempt for those who didn't share in holy living. Jesus and John, on the other hand, judged those in need of repentance (e.g. the tax collectors and prostitutes) as needing repentance, but they judged them with compassion and love. For them, seeing people turn around and begin life anew was more important than punishing them for their misdeeds. Unlike the chief priests and elders, through Jesus and John the Kingdom of God was being lived, proclaimed, and received. Our challenge as the church is to live and proclaim the Kingdom of God in such a way that it is received by those who need it. We too judge when people need repentance, not to condemn, but to acknowledge the need for repentance. We do so with fear and trembling on our part, never presuming not to need repentance ourselves. We avoid the trap of the chief priests and elders and live and proclaim the Kingdom of God so that it will be received. We keep the same mind in us that was is Christ Jesus.
God is not fair. He gives generously not because people particularly deserve his generosity, but out of love for his children. We too are unfair, but our unfairness tends to favor the giver or those with money and influence. We do give grace to those whom we know, but those with money and influence are more likely to receive leniency than someone earning $15,000 / year. Our economy determines that those at the very top of organizations earn more than they would need in 50 lifetimes (approximately), while those at the bottom of organizations often earn not quite enough to get by. Disciples of Jesus at the top of organizations, if they are living as their Lord taught, would not have this be so. They would voluntarily give up much of their salary and pay those at the bottom more...not because of some stupid law passed by congress to muck things up, but because they believed in God's unfair generosity, rather than humanities unfair selfishness. That is life in God's kingdom.
Jesus preached a lot about forgiveness. He also said blessing those who curse us will be like heaping burning coals on their heads. I believe that is in order to refine them like silver is refined in the fire. The purpose is to open our hearts to love God and each other more. The song, "Oceans", by Hillsong United (http://hillsong.com/store/products/music/united/oceans-ep) describes faith, trust, and reconciliation with God through Jesus. Resting in God. That is the point of forgiveness.
Jesus taught on the importance of forgiveness and reconciliation. Indeed, without forgiveness and reconciliation, there would be no Gospel, and we would not be reconciled to God. There would also be little love within the church. A church without love is not truly the church. Jesus commanded his disciples to love one another and told them others would know them as his disciples by their love for one another. Without love, we are not the church. Even if a group of people gathers for worship ever Sunday and believes in Jesus, but they also hate each other, that is not a church. As James point out, "even the demons believe." Forgiveness and reconciliation, and the love they bring about are essential for our faith and hope in Jesus to be truly alive in us.
As disciples of Jesus, we are called to sacrifice and trust in God. Paul spoke of the need to forgive, trusting in God's judgment (he used the example of burning coals...realizing God's judgment often involves mercy and forgiveness), rather than seeking vengeance for ourselves. We sacrifice our desire for vengeance and trust in God's righteous judgment. Jesus sacrificed himself for the sake of humanity, trusting in God to raise him up on the third day. We too are called to sacrifice for the sake of the Gospel, trusting in God that our lives will be OK with the sacrifices we make.
While Peter, and Peter alone, was the rock upon which Jesus build his church, we can all be rocks for some, to guide them to Jesus and sustain them in their life in Christ. Jesus is telling us, "I am counting on you." In our life in the Body of Christ, we have choices to make regarding our commitment to the community of the church and our commitments to other people and organizations. I've often heard people lament that people and organizations keep scheduling activities on Sundays. "Why do they schedule things on Sunday mornings?" People ask. We're in a majority Christian city, in a majority Christian state, in a majority Christian world. If Christians didn't keep going to non-church activities on Sunday mornings, "they" would stop scheduling things on Sunday mornings. We have choices to make. We should consider that we let down people who are depending on us in the Body of Christ when we choose not to show up. We should also not sequester ourselves from the world in order always to be at church. Rather, when we choose to be elsewhere, we should do so intentionally, purposefully, as disciples of Jesus...not simply skipping out on our Christian community, but being part of other communities as ambassadors of Jesus, as rocks upon whom Jesus is counting.
When Jesus met the Canaanite woman, he called her a dog, responding with the nationalism with which he was likely raised. When he then saw her not as a Canaanite, but as a woman of faith with a sick daughter, he turned from his dislike of her and healed her daughter. Children are coming into our country, fleeing violence, drugs, poverty, etc. They are tired, hungry, and scared. Many are speaking of them as if they were stray dogs, basically saying, "stop feeding them and they'll stop coming around." That is not who we are as the Body of Christ. We greet children with open arms, offering them food and shelter. Our country will determine what to do in the long term. We, as the Body of Christ can treat them as beloved children, offering the loving arms of Jesus.
In the great, modern retelling of Jesus walking on water and Peter trying to and then sinking, The Empire Strikes Back shows Luke Skywalker training to become a Jedi training under Master Yoda. When Luke's ship sinks in Yoda's swamp, Luke doesn't believe it when Yoda returns the ship safely to dry ground. "That," Yoda says, "is why you fail."
Believing in Jesus, there is very little the church cannot do in ministry to the world. St. Mark's went on Medical Mission Trips to Honduras and started a medical clinic, MEHOP, right here in Bay City. Outsiders looking in would say, "y'all are too small a church for that - leave it to the big churches." Saint Mark's said, "we're not too small...we have Jesus with us." When need arose and Jesus called, St. Mark's got out of the boat and walked on water.
A major need in Bay City is in our schools, and that need is for children to have positive adult influences in their lives. One way we can do this is through mentoring. KIDS HOPE USA is a non-profit organization which partners churches with schools to provide mentoring for kids. St. Mark's in Rosenberg recently began working with them and I heard about it from their rector.
We too can partner with KIDS HOPE USA to provide mentoring here in Bay City. Some of us will serve as mentors. Some of us will serve as prayer partners, praying behind the scenes for the mentor / child team pair. One of us will be the director for the program at St. Mark's. Some of us will help raise money.
We used to have fajita dinners to raise money for our Honduras mission trips. One of our vestry members suggested last spring that we begin the dinners again in honor of Sam Maglito who was instrumental in the Honduras trips. How perfect to have the dinners in his honor and memory, raising money to help kids in schools (Sam was a football coach and school principal).
We can do this with Jesus' help. He's calling us out of the boat. Let's get out and walk on water once again.
God invites us into life with him, even if he knows we're going to reject that life. He doesn't mock or belittle us for rejecting, nor does he force us to accept the invitation. He invites us and lets us say yes or no. Even when we say no, the invitation is still there, or the memory of the invitation is there. When the thorns and rocks have been cleared out of the soil of our hearts, the invitation is there and given ever again for us to accept life lived in the very heart of God.
Jesus tells us to lay our burdens down upon him and to take up his yoke, his teaching and his way, which will then lighten our load further. Part of Jesus' yoke is the practice of daily prayer and service. The more we practice prayer and service, the more they help ease our burdens, giving us an even level with our spiritual life.
We've not faced persecution as Christians in America by governmental and religious authorities telling us we can't worship in our churches, will be killed for being Christian, or be exiled for being Christian. In Jesus' day, his disciples faced those possibilities. We do face people who don't agree with our beliefs and think we shouldn't hold them. In that case, we let them believe as they do and love them anyway. Others don't have to believe as we do. If we are rejected for our beliefs by people, we don't reject them in return. We love them.
We understand the mystery of the Trinity better than we think we do. If we get out of our heads and think with our hearts, then we understand. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, a relationship of persons bound so closely together in love for each other that they are one. All of our relationships are like this: Person, Person, and God. The closer and more intimate the relationship, the more we are one with that person, while still being completely ourselves.
As the church, we believe in Jesus. We believe in the sense that we would look him in the eye and say, "I believe in you." We believe in who he is. We trust in him. We believe in his teachings and the way he has given. We believe in him and so we follow him in our waking hours every day. It's not always easy. That's part of why we gather with other Christians, to help each other and strengthen each other as we seek to follow Jesus.
Jesus "conquered the world", meaning he was unbroken by the world. He prayed for his disciples and not for the world. While God could have fixed all people in the world with a word, he instead became one with us and gave us the way of Jesus who prayed that we would be one with God and each other. When we hurt and break each other, we become no longer one. Jesus' way is the way that leads to one-ness with God and each other. Jesus seeks to lead us back to Eden where we were one with God and each other.
Sometimes our beliefs become so rigid, that they are like idols made of gold, silver, or stone. God often then takes a hammer to our beliefs so he can fill us with his Holy Spirit to tell us, "Love me, and I will reveal myself to you once again."
In John 14:1-14, Jesus told his disciples what to do when he was gone. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me…you know the way to the place where I am going…” Thomas said they didn’t know where Jesus was going, and Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life…” Jesus didn’t tell them where they were going, he simply said, “follow me.” The way of Jesus is the way of faith in God, love of God and people, forgiveness, service, reconciliation, and resurrection. How we arrive at our goals is more important than achieving them. Our goals should be held lightly, our future plans left somewhat open to allow us first to follow the way of Jesus, not always knowing exactly where that will lead.
The idyllic community described in Acts 2 was full of real people with real lives and real struggles. We share in "the apostles' teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread, and in the prayers" just as they did. We do so in the real struggles of our real lives. We give thanks for our community, as flawed as it is. We celebrate communion together and pray together at the church building when we gather and anytime and place we gather with each other.
We're blessed with joy and wonder which comes with believing without seeing. We can encounter Jesus anywhere, in anyone, and when we do, and our hearts burn within us, we get to trust that we did encounter Jesus. We also encounter Jesus in meals - this can be any meal. The joy, laughter, and love shared over meals is an encounter with Jesus. After we have these encounters with Jesus, we get to share them with our family and friends, and connect with them deeply through the joy and wonder of believing without seeing.
There are many ways to love and praise God. They include serving others, singing, talking with friends, reading, enjoying the morning, etc. It doesn't have to be boring or traditional.
Jesus' resurrection promises that we will be with him in his resurrection after our physical lives are ended. With Jesus as the way, the truth, and the life, we also follow his way of resurrection throughout our lives and the thousands of deaths we face (failures, disappointments, severed relationships, etc.).
Jesus' command to his disciples was for them to go, to serve, and to love. He washed their feet, which is uncomfortable, and awkward, intimate, and possibly smelly. That's the point. Serving others is uncomfortable, and awkward, intimate, and possibly smelly. Afterwards, there is a profound presence of love.
The stories of scripture continue to be told in our lives. God continues to reach out to us, and we continue at times to accept God's invitation and at times to reject God's invitation. God keeps at it, either way, using even our rejection to reach us. The story of God with us is a story that continues past the pages of scripture. God's healing, reconciliation, and love is our story and our song...a song in progress.
God spoke into the chaos and brought order through his words. God fashioned Adam out of the dust of the ground, bringing forth life and beauty. Jesus healed the blind man by forming new eyes for him out of the dust of the ground, and Jesus spoke the words, "Lazarus, come out" to a dead man, and that man received life from Jesus' words. Like God in creation, Jesus brings order out of chaos with the words he speaks and the word he does with his hands. We too, being made in God's image, have power to bring healing, life, and creativity with our words and the work of our hands. We can bring order out of chaos.
Jesus shines light in the darkness in order to reveal our darkness and cast it out, healing us and granting us his light, that we may walk in light and life.
People were and are in need of the Living Water which Jesus offers and is. Jesus is the living water which to give strength to the weary, to give growth to our souls, to satisfy our thirst, and to carry us safely along our way, and fills us with life which never ends. We serve as beacons to others to guide them to the living water of Jesus. They need us, and we need each other.
Being born from above, we become like children again...spiritually speaking. We are God's children, and being born from above, we accept and live into who we truly are. As children, we delight in the world with childlike wonder; we trust in God; we need no great accomplishment to be of value. Our value comes simply because we are God's children.
Jesus could do anything he wanted, and yet what he wanted most was to do the will of God. He trusted in God's way, even in the wilderness, to guide him, rather than rely on his own spectacular abilities.
They aren't really dead are they, the saints? Through Jesus' resurrection, we are granted resurrection which we celebrate at Easter. During Lent, we remember our mortality and sin, taking a good honest look at ourselves. For the same reason, Lent is a joyful season.
Sacramental moments, when God is suddenly revealed to us, are blessed times when we are encouraged, renewed, and sometimes afraid as God's life and love is made manifest to us. These moments are not meant to last forever; we aren't meant to stay in these moments. We are meant to go, strengthened by these moments, to love and serve others in Jesus' name.
We're defined not by what we do, but by who we love and those who love us. From Genesis, we are defined by our relationship to God and each other. We are to be the beauty of Love we were made to be.
God placed within us the ability to be forces for good in the world. To live into our potential as forces for good, there are things we simply must give up. Hatred, looking upon others for the purpose of arousal, living only for ourselves. We are called to live as salt and light, as repairers of the breach.
Jesus sets us free to go in peace. He shows up at any time and in any way, offering for us to lay down our burdens (or the things to which we have enslaved ourselves) and become a new creation, following him and his way of life.
A narrative of American blessing is that each generation will be blessed more than the one before it through greater wealth...basically more stuff, the goal being to alleviate suffering. People now rush about trying to fulfill this narrative and some acquire a great deal, but through these efforts, we don't achieve the blessings of love, faith, hope, peace, confidence, and contentment. As disciples of Jesus, "fishers of people", our net is the Gospel of Jesus and his way of life, peace amidst suffering, contentment without great wealth, and confidence of eternal life in God even in death.
Come and see! Children love saying these words to anyone who will hear about things that excite them. Jesus' early disciples had this same exuberance concerning Jesus. That seems lacking nowadays. For what are we looking in Jesus? What do we love about Jesus? What makes us want to say "come and see?"
In Baptism, we are not made perfect. God doesn't need us to be. God sees and loves us, and God takes our messiness the crud of our lives and redeems it all, to partner with him in healing the world.
Matthew told the story of Jesus' life as fulfilling scripture and in many ways as reliving the formation of Israel. It was a story heard before, the story of the Gospel, the story God wove into the fabric of reality: Creation, Fall, Judgement, Redemption, Re-creation. We live out this story, asking God to redeem and finish our stories.
God is powerful and mighty, but more importantly, God is love and relationship. God came to us in the loving act of the birth of a baby. God will one day restore all of creation. In the meantime, we get to live out the love of God in Jesus.
We're not supposed to put God to the test, meaning make a bargain that if God does something amazing, then we will believe in him. We are encouraged, however, to trust in and believe in God. Put God to the test in that way; let your belief in God be real enough to bless your life.
In the Kingdom of Heaven, the rich and powerful don't kill with impunity. In the Kingdom of Heaven, those who do can be forgiven through Jesus by letting go of the selfishness and inhumanity that lets them think they can kill with impunity.
The joyous affair of asking Jesus to burn away the chaff in our lives, i.e. asking offering up to Jesus our protective covering, our fears, insecurities, masks, anger, past hurts, etc...this joyous affair is Advent. A season where we ask God to help us become love, become more fully human.
We're told to wait for Jesus' return and the restoration of all creation. Not generally the biggest fan of waiting, I find that waiting for Jesus' return is intended to be a joyous, hopeful affair. We slow down to draw near to God in prayer. We slow down to realize our hope and joy. We slow down to realize and soothe the suffering in the world.
We don't "go to church". We are the church, and we go to corporate worship on Sundays. Then, we live as the church the rest of the time...if we live with Jesus as Lord, with Jesus as Torah for our lives.
Jesus predicted that the temple would fall...not surprising given Israel's occupation by Rome - he simply saw the facts on the ground, and encouraged the people to be faithful anyway. Discipleship of Jesus is shrinking; the institutional church is shrinking. Let's go to work anyway, living intentionally as disciples of Jesus.
Like a baby can't know what life after birth is like, neither can we know what life after death is like. We trust and know that is will be really good.
The blessings and woes from Jesus are not so much a description for how to become a saint (get a low paying job), so much as they are a description of God who brings blessing to those who are not otherwise blessed, God who redeems the cursed, God who brings the dead to life and will remake all of creation.
Jesus preached against trusting in our own righteousness. The flip side of this coin is that we needn't earn our own worth. We have worth as God's children and get to partner with God in restoring creation.
"It's not the end of the world." This helpful expression is often used to allow people to realize their problems really aren't all that terrible. Jesus encourages us to seek gratitude and to live with grateful hearts...realizing even the actual end of the world will be redeemed.
The world doesn't owe us anything because we are disciples of Jesus. If another activity conflicts with our worship, the decision is our as to whether we will worship or participate in the other activity. Our discipleship is ours to live and to master, no one else's.
Paul encourages us to be content with what we have. Jesus warns those with more than they need to share what they have with those who have very little, or there will be hell to pay...for those with very little.
Use what you have for the well being of others. Even crooks can serve others when it benefits the crook. How much more would disciples of Jesus serve others purely for the sake of the other.
With the shrinking of the church, eventually all that may be left is a remnant of the church...which is really a reflection of the spiritual reality already largely in place. Jesus, however, taught to seek the lost and to invite folks into the Kingdom of God life. Such invitation is not a threat, nor does it seek to control the outcome. It seeks simply to invite.
Counting the cost of being Jesus' disciples, we find it to be more than wearing a t-shirt, cheering Jesus on. We must pray daily, love others as Jesus loves us, love our enemies, share in Jesus' crucifixion. It is well worth it because resurrection life is coming.
The popular understanding of Christianity is highly unattractive to non-Christians...mostly involving hell. Love of God and neighbor, love of Jesus is often forgotten. It is any wonder, therefore, that people aren't flocking to Jesus/
In the tradition of the prophets, Jesus spoke of his / God's disapproval of how Israel was living in terms of a fire burning within him. Israel was not living the Kingdom of God life. Would they, Jesus was asking, live the Micah 6:8 kind of life?
Jesus tells us to be dressed and ready for action, to live lives of service in his Kingdom. Living the Kingdom Life, we needn't fear nor be worried - Jesus is always with us, come what may.
Jesus is interrupted in teaching about the Kingdom of God by a man concerned with his brother splitting his inheritance with him. Jesus directs the interruption right back to the Kingdom of God, pointing out that life is constantly leading to re-creation, not more and more stuff.
We knock on God's door, wondering what in the world going on in our lives. Together with God, we seek those answers, seek God's Kingdom and presence. Together, we'll find God's Kingdom and presence. Working on rebuilding houses in Bastrop after forest fires was one of these experiences of God's Kingdom.
Trayvon Martin & George Zimmerman saw each other as threats rather than as human beings. They were not living the Kingdom of God life in which we see each other as human beings, as beloved children of God first and foremost. Questions of race, guns, and courts are all ultimately irrelevant.
For a Samaritan to be a neighbor to the injured man rather than the Priest and Levite to be a neighbor to him was to say that in that moment, the Samaritan was more of a Jew than the Priest or the Levite
We bear one another's burdens and we carry our own loads, helping each other out as we take responsibility for those tasks which are ours alone to do.
We live in a chaotic and often crazy world. Rather than ask fire to come down on the darkness of the world, Jesus teaches us to step out in love and minister to the needs of the world. Help bring about God's kingdom.
The Gerasene Demoniac had a legion of demons in him, and he begged Jesus not to heal him because the demons were hurting him as they were leaving. Jesus didn't force the man to be healed, unlike the demons who forced the man to do what they wanted. The man could then trust Jesus.
A sinner washed Jesus' feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. Rather than be concerned with her righteousness or with being socially right, Jesus was concerned with her. Forgiving others often means giving up something of being right, the person being more important than being right.
The church was formed as the Body of Christ, the image of Jesus who is "the image of the invisible God" (Colossians). Part of the image of God is caring for the orphan and widow (Leviticus, Deuteronomy, Psalms).
Jesus healed the Centurion's servant, even though Centurions were considered enemies of Israel. This one had a good name, having treated the Jews with kindness. Jesus healed his servant from a distance, present with him even while not physically there. Jesus also healed the servant despite the Centurion's own faults.
God as three persons in one unity means we can relate to and draw near to God in more ways than one, sometimes through the wind of the Holy Spirit, sometimes through the person of Jesus, sometimes through the Father.
Jesus unified his disciples and God said yes to Jesus' prayer that his disciples would be one when the Holy Spirit came upon them, allowing them to speak so that all people, of any language could understand. Unity in the church was essential then, and it is essential today.
Surrounded as we are by death, we have hope in Jesus' invitation for all to drink from the water of life. We have an invitation to give, to share our hope with others. As Dallas Willard wrote, many of us are "flying upside down," totally unaware of how off course we are.
Keep Jesus' word, following him as "the Way, the Truth, and the Life," and allow God to dwell within you.
God will wipe every tear from their eyes...after the great ordeal? What is the great ordeal? Keeping some mystery to it, we believe strife will come, but it will be a cleansing flame, like a forest fire which brings destruction along with restoration.
Jesus offers us new life in his resurrection. We are constantly amidst death...death of loved ones, death of jobs, death of dreams, etc. Amidst death, we can have new life, and not just life as usual.
Thomas recieved proof that Jesus was resurrected. We do not. Through our faith, we recieve blessings of joy, hope, peace, and love.
Jesus said do not cling to me after he was resurrected because he was going to prepare a place for us. He turned death from an enemy into a doorway into continued life.
Jesus' deepest desire for his disciples is that we love one another. Sadly, we often let little things get in the way of our love, acting as though Jesus never existed.
We have blessing and cursing within us, the ability to say "Hosanna in the Highest!" to Jesus and the ability to say, "Crucify Him!" Jesus has redeemed them both.
Believing in life after this life, we find meaning in this life for it's own sake and in order to become who we are going to be. The greater our love of God and others, the greater our hope in heaven.
In the Story of the Prodigal Son, the father loved both his sons. They both seemed to want to be rewarded from their father, rather than primarily loving him. Our relationships with each other and with God are based, not on economies of exchange, but on economies of grace and love.
Jesus expects us to take his calls to repentance seriously. He also loves us in those calls to repentance, not desiring us to live in constant fear of punishment. By accepting Jesus' invitation, we find life to be more beautiful.
Truly to love God means to trust and love God without an agenda. Loving God to get what we want out of God is really a form of idolatry.
Jesus' temptations by the devil began with the temptation not to follow the Holy Spirit into the wilderness...the nagging doubts that must have been in his mind. For us, temptations are rarely as obvious as the devil telling us directly to worship him. We're tempted by attractive things which don't fill us as much as the seeminly less attractive ways God would have us walk. Faith in God to follow his ways fixes us.
Lenten fasts aren't done to make God happy with us for not drinking coffee (or whatever else) for a month. The purpose is to create need in our lives and fill that need with God, to spend time with God and then serve others with healed hearts.
Jesus rebuked the people of Nazareth - they responded by wanting to kill him. We often do the same when rebuked. We could, however, respond with 1 Corinthians kind of love.
In Jesus' baptism, his old life died, and a new life began...the same happens for us in baptism, whether immediately or after years. Our lives can begin again many times, saying goodbye to the ghosts of the past.
In the Gentile Magi coming to visit Jesus, we understand Jesus to be savior for all, Jew and Gentile, and realize God is over all the tribes of the earth.
God didn't say, become divine that you may know me. God became human that we might know him.
Mary and Elizabeth were ecstatic over the coming brith of Jesus. They were rejoicing at the coming of the Messiah, and they were likely wrong about who they thought the Messiah would be. Like them, we see in a mirror dimly, and our hope is in God, for something even great than we can imagine.
How long must we wait for God to restore creation? When acts of violence like the shootings at Sandy Hook happen, I have difficulty waiting patiently. What are we to do in response? How can we hold on to hope?
John called people to repent and make straight the paths of God. We're called to tidy up the mess of our lives, asking God to help with our mess so that we might serve each other as priests, praying for each other, and helping each other to grow as disciples of Jesus.
Doomsday predictions have become very popular, but they miss the hope that is primary in Jesus' second coming. As Episcopalians, we need to reclaim the stories of the second coming, of the end times, and tell these as stories of hope.
The perfection of Jesus' kingdom can be daunting, something to which we cannot live up. So what? We needn't be perfect. Living in and striving for Jesus kingdom is not about perfection but about living beautifully with God's help, seeking correction and forgiveness, and living again with mistakes along the way...like making music.
We're waiting for the final restoration of creation whic Isaiah describes. While we wait, we don't know with certainty that our faith is not in vain. We can't know. We don't get to see God or our loved ones who have died so that we might believe in God and the resurrection. Rather, we believe in God and the resurrection and allow that belief to be real enough to change our lives, seeing joy, hope, peace, and love in the world.
Our faith tells us God will one day restore all of creation and wipe the tears from every eye. We believe that, and we have times of doubt which can lead to despair. Of the two wolfs within us, the one with hope and the one without hope, which one will we feed? In which world will we choose to live?
Seeking greatness and glory, Jesus' disciples forgot who they wereas God's people, called not to greatness, but to service, love, and devotion to God and neighbor. They were called to be a light to the nations, not to let the way of the nations become their way. They were called to be Advocates (following the Holy Spirit) rather than Adversaries (following Satan).
"The Rich Man" who wouldn't give up all his possessions to follow Jesus is often blasted as as sinner (as are rich people when referencing this passage). Jesus, however, does not condemn the man. He pities and and sympathizes with him. Jesus knows that God and life in God's kingdom is what the man truly wants, but all of his possessions make that realization difficult for the rich man.
As God's children, we are as important to God as children were to Jesus. The best way to know and love God and to know and love each other is to receive life, God’s kingdom, like a little child. Receive God’s kingdom, receive life with childlike innocence, with wonder, with trust and love, with dependence on God and others, with short memories of wrongs, with forgiveness, and playfulness.
"If you want to be who you want to be, you have to give up who you are." (www.guyforsyth.com) We have habits that are not helpful and can be harmful. If we truly want to live into the Kingdom of God, we need to change those bad habits.
The church is the bride of Christ, seeking to do good not out of a desire to try harder, be better, or one up another group, but rather out of love for Jesus.
Jesus calls Peter, "Satan", the Adversary, when he needed Peter to be guided by the Holy Spirit, the Advocate. James tells us we have springs of fresh and brackish water within us, leading us to speak blessings and curses. Cleaning the well, we can speak more blessing, acting through the Holy Spirit, rather than through the Adversary.
Faith without works is dead. What we do influences and reveals what our faith truly is. We're often tired and irritable, not particularly wanting to do good works. Perhaps Jesus understands. Perhaps he was feeling that way in his interaction with the Syrophoenician woman.
Jesus spoke against the Pharisees practice of religion, claiming they were hypocrites. Some read this passage and say Jesus didn't like religion. On the contrary, Jesus wanted us to practice our religion in ways that change our hearts to love God, love our neighbors, and help heal the suffering in the world.
We can't control people, nor can we control the world around us. Our faith in God tells us we don't have to. Things may not go our way. We plant seeds, and they grow or they don't grow. We give up control, root ourselves in and offer to other the rich soil of God and God's word.
Dwelling in Jesus and his words dwelling in us changes us. God is not a supernatural physician or holy vending machine to call upon in our hour of need. Rather, God is love, dwelling in us and inviting us to dwell in him.
Jesus' disciples are fearful and doubting, even after his resurrection. Jesus says to them "peace be with you." As people of the resurrection, peace is our way as well. We live lives of forgiveness and peace, helping each other through our fears and doubts, allowing for them with grace and love.
We often wonder about how and why exactly Jesus' death and resurrection is salvific for us. We wonder what then we're to do about it. Sometimes, however, we can simply accept it, enjoy it, and do nothing beyond resting in God.
At the Last Supper, Jesus told his disciples to love one another. Amidst their worry about what would happen to him and what would become of them, Jesus' disciples are simply told to love one another - all shall be well.
Jesus said "Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me." Some folks then misread Paul's letter to the Romans, believing that what we do matters very little. Jesus seems to disagree with that assesment.
Jesus speaks of those who love darkness more than light. We all have some darkness in us, and part of us likes the darkness. Being a Christian does not eradicate the darkness in us. Rather, "the cure has begun, and we have relapses."
The cure has begun, and we have relapses. John 3:16 is a favorite verse for many Christian in showing the love God has for us. We must also recognize there is still darkness within us and be ok with that. God is.
Paul was all things to all people. Like a student who traverses cliques in school, Paul was not false or fake with people. He was all to all out of love for God and love for people.
Drawing near to God was primary in Jesus' life and teaching. When he broke the rules, it was because keeping them would take him farther from God. Jesus took time, sabbath time, to be with God, and teaches us to do the same.
We can't know the truth of God. We believe because we have found the love, awe, and respect of God to be the beginning of wisdom. We believe because we've found the story of God's love and redepmtion of the world to be the most beautiful, compelling story we've heard.
We're told not to fear, but to hold God with respect (maybe a little fear) if it helps us live well.
We're taught to forgive others. Additionally, those who are hurt are taught not just to forgive, but to seek reconciliation with those who did the hurting.
In God's continual efforts to teach us to live well, God seems like a perennial optimist, never giving up on us.
We're all connected in each others' lives. God allows the bad within us to grow together with the good - otherwise we'd all be harmed if God destroyed all the bad at once.
Our expectations of God often go unmet. At the same time, prophecy is also often fulfilled, albeit in a different way that we might have expected.
On the Road to Emmaus, two of Jesus' disciples encountered the risen Jesus. Did Jesus also encounter himself in them? How do we encounter the risen Jesus in others still today?
The world is not what we wish it was, nor what we wish we had made it to be. There is hope. God has not given up on the world, nor on us. When we turn away, we can always get back on the right path with God.
Tradegy is all around us. Our faith leads us to respond in love, helping where we can, via prayer and action, without despair. God is with us in tradegy (and joy).
In the Transfiguration, there is a dual revelation of Jesus and God and as a human example of how to live. His words, his life, his death, and his resurrection all help us create tabernacles in our hearts for God to dwell.
There is enough anxiety in the world without chastising ourselves and enough of a rat race without adding more to our plates. Take some time this Lent to rest in God.
Be whole by having a heart of love, peace, and faith. Pray for those whom you love and for your enemies, and God will partner with you to make you whole.
Sharing the light of our faith is not something we force on others. Rather, it is something we offer...without threats or condemnation.
An unintended consequence of religion is that we sometimes seek to control God rather than be changed by him. We are invited instead to live God's life of love, a life of faith, justice, mercy, and love.
The second coming of Christ is often described in frightening ways. Remember, the same Jesus who was here will be the Jesus who returns. Wait his coming with joy.
God's kingdom has, in it's very nature, aspects of God's own character woven into it. All of creation is made of love, forgiveness, and invitation. Such is life in God's kingdom.
We love God, and in many ways, we end up living out a love of other things more than a love of God. Loving God with everything we have, we live out the love of God in everything we do.
Living lives of love is never in vain. We may not fix all the problems of the world; we can't, but we can love others and sooth suffering. Doing so is never in vain, even though evil will persist. If all we do matters, then all that matters is what we do.
Jesus told his disciples to love one another. How are we doing day in and day out at living Jesus' command to love?
God loves us enough to ask us to be his voice, his hands, and his feet. The Gospel is the tie that binds us, not any one leader.
God can be revealed to us in any place at any time when the eyes of our hearts are opened to his presence.
As the bride of Christ, the church will never be abandoned by God. Further, the church cannot be divided (as much as we may try). Jesus has one bride, not many, and we are all part of one church, whether we believe it or act like it.
John preached a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Part of repenting and receiving God's forgiveness also involves forgiving others. To do so, we must offer up our anger and fear to God.
Times may seem bad (wars, violence, etc.), but the new birth of creation is still to come. God has not forsaken us.
We are asked to love God and each other. Our religion is supposed to help us do these two things. Sometimes, however, we place too much importance on the religion itself, neglecting God and each other.
Like little children who don't want to go to sleep, we often want things that may not be best for us. If we trust in God's way of life for us, we just might find life to be better than when we follow our own ways.
Jesus' healing of two gentile people, simply by speaking the words of their healing, shows us something of who Jesus is, what true faith is, and how God has given us freedom.
Solomon asks God for wisdom in order to rule Israel well. For what might we ask God in order to serve God's people well in our own ways.
From 2 Samuel 11:1-15, David's affair with Bathsheba: We all make poor dicisions which hurt those around us. By lying about them or trying to cover them up, we merely compound the problem. On the other hand, by admitting our faults and seeking reconciliation, we can be freed of our bad decisions.
David danced before the Lord not caring if he looked like a fool. All too often, we allow our fears of what others may think to keep us from dancing with joy before the Lord (literally or metaphorically). What about our faith brings us joy and how might we "dance" before the Lord?
The disciples had doubts...we do too. Often, we believe not out of certainty, but out of a desire to believe, and we believe the testimony of those who came before us.
Abiding in Jesus' love, resting in God, we can overcome those things which wear us out, make us anxious and fearful, etc.
The God of the universe humbled himself by becoming human for our sake - not because we are universally significant, but because we are loved by him.
People often choose Darkness over Light out of a desire for power...which can lead to hurtful acts. This desire can be an outgrowth of fear. Choosing weakness over power and darkness can allow us to put faith in God.
Following Jesus requires sacrifice...just like any profession. We need to practice our faith to become disciples of Jesus.
If Jesus was sinless, why did he need baptism? Perhaps we needed him to be baptized to be in solidarity with us.