Father Snort

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.