Father Snort

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.