Father Snort

Brad Sullivan

Proper 4, Year B

June 3, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

Deuteronomy 5:12-15

Psalm 81:1-10

2 Corinthians 4:5-12

Mark 2:23 - 3:6

Sabbath, Jesus: Gifts of Freedom from All that Enslaves us

Rules are made to be broken. That’s one of my favorite oft quoted sayings of supposed wisdom which is actually totally and completely bogus. Rules aren’t made to be broken. That’s just something people say when they don’t feel like following a rule, which happens pretty much of the time. Rules weren’t made to be broken. Then again, rules aren’t generally made to be followed either. Don’t get me wrong, those who make rules want them to be followed, but following some arbitrary rule is not the point of making the rule. Rules aren’t made to be followed. Rules are made to be helpful.

The Pharisees missed that in their understanding of the rule about not working on the Sabbath. Thinking that the rule was made to be followed, rather than to be helpful, the Pharisees had become enslaved to the rule which is particularly ironic since one of the reasons for the commandment not to work on the Sabbath is to free us from slavery.

Biblical scholar Vanessa Lovelace points this out in looking at the Sabbath commandment in Deuteronomy which we heard this morning. See, in the Exodus telling of the commandments, keeping the Sabbath is tied to creation, for in six days God created the world, and on the seventh day God rested. In Exodus, a day of rest is tied into the very fabric of creation.

In Deuteronomy, however, observing the Sabbath is tied to God freeing the people of Israel from their slavery in Egypt. “Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the sabbath day.”

God freed you from slavery, therefore you should keep the sabbath. Rather than an arbitrary rule made to be followed, the sabbath commandment was given in part to help maintain freedom. Not only are “you” not supposed to do any work, but neither are your children, nor anyone who works for you. Everyone is supposed to rest so they do not become enslaved to the tyranny of work. Enjoy creation. Enjoy one another. Our work has to be done, and there is always more work to be done. The taskmaster of our work will be happy to keep us at it forever, expanding more work to fill as much time as we’re willing to give. God knows we can become enslaved to work, so he commands us to remove the chains of our work and take time to rest.

The Sabbath commandment was not made simply to be followed, and it wasn’t made to be broken either. The Sabbath commandment was given as a gift so that we would take time to rest, to pray, and to remember God our creator and liberator. The Sabbath commandment was given as a gift so that we would take time to be with each other, enjoy the beauty of one another, enjoy the beauty of creation all around us, and enjoy time spend playing.

Then the well-meaning Pharisees come along. Rather than being liberated by the Sabbath, they had become enslaved to the Sabbath. They treated the Sabbath like a rule that must be followed, totally forgetting the freedom and play that is intended in the rest.

Have you ever seen children fighting over a toy, not because one wants what the other has, but because one of the kids is playing with the toy incorrectly? One kid will be playing with a toy in a way other than how the toy was intended to be used, and having a marvelous time. Then another kid will see the offending child having fun in a way which is inconsistent with the way the child thinks the toy should be played with, and that kid will be all up in arms. “No. You’re supposed to do it this way!” To be fair to children, there are plenty of times when adults do the same thing to children, seeing them play with a toy in a manner inconsistent with the manufacturer’s prescribed use, again, having a marvelous time, and the adult will also stop the offending child at their joyful play. Ok, so a quick public service announcement to kids and any adults who are with children in play: toys are meant to bring joy and fun to their users; toys are not meant to be taskmasters which keep us following a particular way of performing an activity.

The Pharisees needed a similar PSA. The Sabbath was intended to honor God, to give rest to creation and to us, and free us from the tyranny of work.

Jesus’ disciples plucked some grain as they walked through the grainfields. They weren’t harvesting the grain. They saw some food, and they were hungry and so they decided to eat it. Then there were the Pharisees, following Jesus and his disciples around like some ancient internet troll just waiting for a chance to say “gotcha!” My gosh did they miss the point. “Don’t enjoy creation! Don’t eat if you’re hungry. It’s the Sabbath, and we’re going to make sure you observe it the way we want you to. Freedom and joy with God be damned.”

Then, Jesus healed a man on the Sabbath. Talk about freedom. Jesus freed this man from his disability, his useless, withered hand, and all the Pharisees could say was, “You should have waited until nightfall.” They got so incensed by the whole, “people enjoying life and being freed on the Sabbath” thing, that they decided the best course of action would be conspiracy to commit murder. “You didn’t play with our toy the right way. You’ll have to go.”

Ok, to be fair to the Pharisees, we too don’t like it when things we know and love are changed. Thankfully we’ve never done anything like that in the church, well, except for during the reformation…and those other times. Hey, but at least we didn’t kill anyone in the church because they were doing some churchy practice wrong. Well, except for important things like in ancient church divisions where you could be killed for crossing yourself in the wrong way. Or during the start of the Anglican church where you could be killed for being too Anglican…or too Catholic…or too Anglican…or too Catholic.

Then there were the times when folks were killed for reading the scriptures in languages other than Latin, times when people in the church were killed by other Christians for things like believing the wrong things about Jesus, being black, being homosexual. We haven’t always killed each other over our differences, sometimes we’ve just quit churches, split churches, held grudges for years, and grown hatred and contempt in our hearts. Wine vs. grape juice, bread vs. wafers, putting the wrong flowers in the wrong place or singing the wrong music at worship. People left the Episcopal church back in 1979 when the prayer book was changed and we started having Eucharist every Sunday instead of once a month. “No, not Jesus! Keep him away.” We were doing it wrong.

Contra all of our divisions and incitement sometimes even to violence because we’re chained by our way of doing things or held captive by our ways of understanding things, God doesn’t want us enslaved to anything. When we become enslaved to desires for comfort and convenience, forsaking God’s dream for us to join in bringing about his Shalom on earth, God continues to give the gift of the Holy Spirit to set us free.

Millennia ago, God gave the Sabbath to set us free. God lived and died as one of us to set us free. God has given us these gifts, the gifts of Sabbath, the gift of Jesus to set us free from all of the chains that bind us. The gift of Sabbath so that we can take time to rest, to pray, to remember God our creator and liberator, and so that we can take time to be with each other, enjoy the beauty of one another, enjoy the beauty of creation all around us, and enjoy time spent playing. The gift of Jesus to set us free from all that binds us.

Enjoy these gifts God has given and be set free. Enjoy the gift of Jesus and freedom he gives us all. Freedom from anything that binds us: our past, our resentments, our addictions, our need to follow the rules of our religion so tightly that we forget the joy and freedom that our religion is intended to give us in the first place. Observe the sabbath day and keep it holy, as the Lord your God commanded you. Keep this faith and these rules that God has given, not because rules are made to be broken or followed, but in order that we might be set free.

Brad Sullivan

Trinity Sunday, Year B

May 27, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

Isaiah 6:1-8

Romans 8:12-17

John 3:1-17

Trinityish Type Stuff: a.k.a. Restoring God's Shalom

Without doubt and without fear,

May you find some comfort here,

May there be hope to help you cope

When what you need Is nowhere near

Make your mark unto these years,

Shape your world with salt and tears,

Carry on when your will has gone,

Be it joy or sorrow

Given time, given faith,

Given courage to embrace

Changes as they each take place,

Be it joy or sorrow

- Terri Hendrix, Joy or Sorrow

That’s from a song called Joy or Sorrow by Texas singer/songwriter, Terri Hendrix. That song made me think of the life of Jesus, following the wind of the Holy Spirit. In good times and in bad, in joy or sorrow, Jesus had a profoundly beautiful life, being led by the wind, the Spirit of God. Jesus was fully connected to God and to creation around him with hope, with faith, embracing life as it came, be it joy or sorrow

Now because of Jesus and because of the church’s dawning realization that he was God, living as an actual human being among us, the church, began over the centuries to develop an understanding of God as being one God who was also three distinct persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We developed this understanding of God because Jesus spoke to God, his father, who spoke back to him, and Jesus was led by the Holy Spirit of God. The three worked and moved together as one, even though they were each distinct.

How’s that work and fit together, three persons who are one God and yet still three distinct persons while still being one God? I don’t know. After years of pondering and wondering, I simply think of I think of the Trinity in terms of relationship. Three persons bound together so perfectly in love for each other that they are one. From that image of God, we gain an understanding of the image of God in which we were made. We were intended to love others and be loved by others, to join with others so that we are one with them. That was Jesus’ prayer for his disciples, if you’ll remember from John 17:11, that they would be one as he and the Father are one. In good times and bad, in joy or sorrow, we were made to be like God, bound to one another in love, our loving unity creating shalom, the peace and wholeness of God.

I’ve been reading Learning Change by Jim Herrington & Trisha Taylor, and they begin the book with idea of God’s dreams for us, that we would each bring about the peace and wholeness of God. “We were designed,” they write, “to dream of the epic life God created us for - the abundant, fully human, and fully alive life that Jesus lived. Along the way, we exchange that dream for a seriously compromised version, characterized by the pursuit of comfort and convenience...”

“God [has chosen] us to partner with him in recreating and restoring shalom in our own families, our communities, and ultimately in the world.”

Reading this book has reminded me of the dream I had as a youth of following the wind of God and having a purpose in my life to restore shalom. I lost some of that along the way, coming into adulthood and seeking comfort and security for my life. I lost that dream of partnering with God in restoring shalom, and since reading this book, Jesus has been calling me to make some changes, even if only in attitude and outlook, so that I can reclaim that dream of a life of partnering with God in restoring peace and wholeness.

Restoring Shalom, the peace and wholeness of God, was Jesus’ life through and through, and partnering with God in restoring Shalom is the life Jesus was talking about when he told Nicodeums about being born from above. When we’re born from above, we follow the epic dream God has for us, partnering with him in restoring shalom in the world and following the wind of God.

“Wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes,” Jesus said. Thinking of the wind blowing where it chooses in terms of the Trinity, I have this great image of the Father and the Son talking together and suddenly a mighty wind starts blowing, and the Son says, “Hey Dad, where do you think she’s going now?”

“Are you kidding, Son, I never have any idea where she’s going, but it’s always on the grandest adventure.”

…and together they follow the Spirit, the three bound perfectly together in love, their loving unity creating shalom, the peace and wholeness of God.

Being born of the Spirit of God, following the wind, which blows where it chooses, we don’t know where it comes from or where it goes, and yet we find something beautiful in the life of that wind, and so we follow where the wind blows. Jesus calls us to surrender ourselves to follow God’s epic dream for us of abundant, fully human life. In that surrender, we let go some of some false security, comfort, and convenience, and we follow the wind of God, partnering with him in restoring shalom.

Be it joy or sorrow, our lives were made for so much more than for securing our own comfort and security. We were made to be fully alive which does not mean that we’ll be perfectly

happy with no tears ever. Both Joy and sorrow will still happen as they did for Jesus. We know that risking joy and sorrow is part of what it means to be fully alive, fully human. So is following the wind of God on whatever grand adventure she has in mind for us.

We had two examples in our scripture readings today of people following the wind of God on a new grand adventure: Isaiah and Nicodemus. For Isaiah, he had this grand vision of God in his divine court with angels all around him, leaving little doubt that the grand adventure on which he was about to embark was the wind of God, in his case, a gale force wind. He had no idea what he was getting into, but as soon as God asked, “Who will go for us?”, Isaiah piped, “Sounds good, let’s go! What are we doing again?” There was joy and sorrow in his following the wind of God, but come what may, Isaiah was all in. Some folks have such experiences of a strong sense of God calling them to follow the wind on a grand adventure, and they can’t wait to begin.

Others are more like Nicodemus. He was a little more subdued in his response. For one thing, the invitation that he received to follow the wind of God was less gale force and more gentle breeze, and he wasn’t at all certain that he wanted to follow. Having seen and heard Jesus, he saw something beautiful, and he felt the wind of God on his face gently beckoning him onward, but he thought, “This seems potentially great, but also very confusing and rather distressing; can I talk about this with you in private, Jesus?”.

I love both of these examples of how we can say yes to the wind of God beckoning us to follow in the life of the Trinity. God lets us follow the wind as we can, as we learn to trust him and catch the beauty of the dream of God’s life for us.

Where’s the wind of God blowing? I don’t know. Just ask yourself this: Who’s the next person you’re going to talk with or even look at while you’re here? That’s where you get to live the life of the Trinity and help restore the shalom of God in creation. Where’s the next place you’re going from here? That’s the next place the Spirit is inviting you to help restore the shalom of God in creation, and on and on. In your home. With you family and friends. At work. In your neighborhood. That’s where you get to follow the wind of God, to live the life of the Trinity, to help restore the shalom of God in creation.

She calls:

Without doubt and without fear,

May you find some comfort here,

May there be hope to help you cope

When what you need Is nowhere near

Make your mark unto these years,

Shape your world with salt and tears,

Carry on when your will has gone,

Be it joy or sorrow

Given time, given faith,

Given courage to embrace

Changes as they each take place,

Be it joy or sorrow

- Terri Hendrix, Joy or Sorrow

Brad Sullivan

6 Easter, Year B

May 6, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

John 15:9-17

Jesus wants us to be joyful…not fearful, lonely, right, or isolated.

Abide in my love, Jesus said, so that my joy may be in your and your joy may be complete. Jesus had all sorts of emotions, just like every other human. Anger, frustration, contempt. Think about how Jesus was with the scribes, the Pharisees, the money changers, his own disciples at times. Jesus was powerful in the extreme, and those emotions and ways of being, anger, frustration, contempt are powerful as well. They were a part of Jesus and they gave him a nudge to start acting or doing things every now and then, and yet rather than choose to act and live out of those powerful emotions, he chose to live in the powerful weakness of love.

The powerful weakness of love is so much more powerful than anger. Love is so much more powerful than frustration. Love is so much more powerful than contempt…and love often feels like weakness. Love is vulnerable. Love doesn’t force the other but offers, guides, leads the other, allowing the other not to follow. Love allows for failure and is not coercive. Love does not belittle or taunt. Love allows for things not to go “my way”, allowing for the needs of the beloved over one’s own desires. Love also trusts in the mutual nature of love such that the beloved will also reciprocate that love, trusting, not forcing.

Jesus could have forced people to do whatever he wanted. When push came to shove, however, he acted not out of his power, not out of anger, frustration, or contempt. Jesus acted instead out of the powerful weakness and trusting nature of love, and he told his disciples to abide in his love, not in any of those other emotions or ways of being. Abide in my love, Jesus said.

Abide in that which ultimately led Jesus to the cross…ok, my sales pitch isn’t really as good as his. Jesus talked about joy, and love allowing our joy to be complete. So, what keeps us from joy? How about fear? How about when, because of our fear, we choose to dwell not in love, but in anger, frustration, and contempt? When we’re afraid, we feel weak, and we want to feel strong, so we often turn to anger, frustration, and contempt. They are powerful, and so when afraid we act out of those things which make us feel powerful, but where do they lead?

To joy? Not so much. Dwelling in and acting out of anger, frustration, and contempt leads to hurt, resentment, loneliness, victimhood, maybe a sense of being right (in a me versus the world kind of way), and a profound lack of joy. We may feel powerful, but we also feel more alone, more fearful, and worse about ourselves. Such is the way of fear and dwelling in power to overcome our fear.

When we choose to abide in Jesus’ love, to make love our home, then we will in all likelihood be led to the cross, to that place of powerful weakness. So when we abide in love and are led to the cross, what gets nailed to that cross? How about being right? How about our hurt and resentment?

Is anyone else here kinda good at hurt and resentment, at being hurt or let down by someone whom we deeply love, and then letting that hurt turn to resentment? It certainly feels strong. Walls up, weapons out, not going to hurt me again, but it never leads to anywhere good. Greater fear and isolation, loneliness, victimhood. It may feel right or righteous, but it certainly doesn’t lead to a place of joy.

Say you’ve got a mini, stay at home date night planned for after the kids are asleep, and your wife falls asleep again putting one of the kids to bed, and instead of your usual feelings of hurt at being stood up again on such an occasion for the exact same reason as usual, you choose instead to be happy for your wife because as tired as she is, she got to get some well needed sleep. (As a top of my head, totally hypothetical example.) Being happy for my wife led me to be joyful amidst the let down, and a little while later, she woke up anyway.

Jesus wants us to joyful, not fearful, lonely, right, and isolated. Jesus wants us to be joyful, and so he taught us to dwell in his love. We dwell in love, we let love lead us to the cross, and we put our hurt and resentment on that cross. Then when someone we love lets us down, we can dwell in love for that person.

When someone we love lets us down, rather than dwelling in hurt and resentment, we get to ask ourselves, “why did they let us down?” Maybe they were overwhelmed. Maybe life just happened. Maybe they were doing their level best and reached a limit in what they could do. Maybe in letting us down, they got something that they really needed, and so rather than being hurt, we can be happy for them. We are talking about someone we love after all. Maybe our hurt can turn to concern for them if it seems that their letting us down came from a place of limit or need on their part. Out of concern, we get to act out of love on their behalf, our hurt and resentment transformed to gladness or concern for the other, and gladness or concern for the other are places of joy, expressed through love.

Abide in Jesus’ love, and we do get led to the cross, so that our fear and hurt may be transformed into joy. Jesus said he wants us to abide in his love so that his joy may be in us and our joy may be complete. I often think of Jesus as so serious and our religion so serious. Anyone else? Christianity is so serious, isn’t it? Jesus died for our sins and rose that we may have life eternal. Jesus lived and showed us his kingdom here on earth and taught us to live out his kingdom here on earth, loving, forgiving, caring for those in need. It’s all so serious, and he was so earnest and serious in his teachings, so at times I tend to forget how darn joyous Jesus was. He hung out with people. He partied. He took delight in children, and found joy and beauty in grass and birds. He didn’t worry about daily struggles because in his kingdom, people take care of each other. When visiting his friends Martha and Mary, it didn’t bother him that the house was a mess or that the meal wasn’t perfectly perfect and on time. He was enjoying being with his friends.

As much as we are earnest in our faith and are intended to take our faith seriously, Jesus didn’t tell us to abide in his love so that our earnestness and seriousness would be complete. Abide in my love, Jesus said, so that “my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete.”

So what does joy look like? Joy looks like forgiveness and compassion leading to a place of peace, of happiness and love for the other. Joy looks like hope and being surrounded by love in the midst of sadness. Joy looks like enjoying time with people in all of our imperfect glory. Joy looks like being cared for and caring for others. Joy looks like the sun coming up every morning and letting that be enough. Joy looks like acceptance, accepting life for what it is and finding the peace, hope, and love in what life is, rather than constantly wishing for life to be something else.

Joy looks like placing the power of our hurt and resentment on the cross and abiding in that place of love. Jesus invites us into his joy, that his joy may be in us. Jesus invites us to abide, to dwell in the powerful weakness of his love so that our joy may be complete.

Brad Sullivan

4 Easter, Year B

April 22, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

1 John 3:16-24

John 10:11-18

Give Grace Amidst Angst, and Be Healed

Life is hard. It’s also great, and we’re in the Easter season, so we’re not going too far down a dark path, but life is, in addition to being great, straight up, plain, old fashioned hard. We have hurts that happen to us from the moment we are born. Fears, feelings of abandonment, loss, and that’s for kids with great parents. People let us down. We let other people down. We lose trust and faith in those we love, disease hits us and nocks whole families down, jobs are lost, security is tenuous, and we hurt and have a hard time reconciling with folks even in the best of circumstances. We end up with a lot of angst.

My desire as a youth was maybe to avoid some of that. In reading scripture back in high school, I had a strong desire to follow God in all his ways, as Jesus told Satan during his temptations in the desert, “love God and serve only him.” Man I wanted to do that, and back in high school it felt like I could, like I could resist temptation, do the right thing, be peaceful, kind, and forgiving to all of those around me. It turns out life was a lot harder than I realized, temptation to soothe life’s hurts far greater than I realized, and I fell pretty far from that ideal. It was never a very realistic ideal, and I would likely only have really achieved it by being aloof, not overly connected to people so that I couldn’t really hurt them and they couldn’t really hurt me. I therefore couldn’t have made a very good friend, husband, father, or priest. I’d have probably ended up as a fairly judgmental person, staying aloof in order to stay, I don’t know…pure, unstained by the world. That’s really just a shield from harm, a shield which causes harm, and it runs totally counter to the Gospel of Jesus in which God refused to stay aloof in guiding us, but became one of us. As such, Jesus knows how hard life is, and he knows first hand that we are all broken-hearted and fearful.

We’re broken hearted, having been harmed by people and things that happen in our lives, and we’re fearful of forgiving those who hurt us, fearful because forgiving means choosing to be wrong ourselves. If we forgive and accept those who are wrong, then we’re almost condoning the wrong and therefore being wrong ourselves. What if God isn’t pleased by that? What a bunch of hooey. Jesus teaches us to be wrong, to accept back one who is/was wrong. Forgiving means letting go of our grief, and rightness, and letting our hurt die. Forgiving means letting go of our sense of control, our shield, and laying down our lives for others.

Forgiveness isn’t easy, like the rest of life, but that place of forgiveness, grace, and love is where Jesus leads us, because it leads us to a place of peace. He shows us forgiveness, grace, and love that we may be freed to love each other. Jesus leads us to the ability and gives us permission to love and be loved, to forgive and be forgiven. Jesus leads us and gives us permission to lay down our hurt, to lay down that which keeps us insular, aloof, and self-protected. In short, Jesus leads us and gives us permission to lay down our lives, for others, thereby find peace.

Today we talk about Jesus leading us in these ways as Jesus being the good shepherd, and we call this “Good Shepherd” Sunday. Being good shepherd Sunday, I was going to start off with a quick one liner about how dumb sheep are, something like, “Sheep are dumb.” Then, I decided to actually do a little bit research into whether or not sheep really are stupid, and it turns out, they really aren’t all that dumb. In fact, for quadrupeds, they’re pretty intelligent. They were described instead as intelligent, complex, and sociable. They can recognize people, voices, even facial expressions, and they help each other out and they clearly exhibit emotional responses to the circumstances in their lives, kinda like us.

We’ve often thought of sheep as stupid because they wander off and get lost, kinda like us, or because they can exhibit herd mentality and panic together when they perceive a threat, kinda like us. So, sheep aren’t really all that dumb, they’re kinda like us. It’s easy to discount sheep as dumb, just as it’s easy to discount others as wrong, sinful, bad, whatever else, but Jesus, as our good shepherd, chose not to discount us as dumb, but to lead us as a fellow sheep.

John tells us that Jesus laid down his life for us, and that he most certainly did by becoming human. By becoming human, God showed us, in ways that we could truly understand, something of God’s self in Jesus’ love, forgiveness, grace, and peace. Then again, of course God can be all of those things: loving, forgiving, graceful, peaceful. Jesus showed us God’s character and nature, and he also showed us our own character and nature, or at least our potential character and nature. Jesus showed us that we too can be full of love, forgiveness, grace, and peace.

By becoming human, God laid down his life. Rather than be insular and protected, unhurt and untouched by the terrors of this world, God became human and left himself vulnerable to being hurt, left himself fully immersed in our lives, living with us the joy and the pain that we all feel.

Again, Jesus showed us that we have his permission to love and forgive others. Folks who have messed up in big ways that we could readily name and label, Jesus would lead us to a place of forgiveness, grace, and love, leading to peace. Knowing how hard life is, Jesus would lead us to a place of compassion and understanding, knowing that the harm the person caused was brought about in them by their own fears or the harm that they had endured, or maybe even by following the advice of someone who led them in a bad way, someone who had also been led badly and been harmed.

Life is hard, and knowing this, Jesus knows that even forgiveness is hard, grace is hard, love is hard, and Jesus knows that life is even harder when we keep our shields up, keep resentments with us, dragging us down like a dead albatross around our necks.

Jesus leads us instead to life, peace, joy and greater acceptance and love of ourselves through greater acceptance and love of others. Jesus leads us to freedom from the tyranny of being shielded, right, or resentful. Jesus leads us to grace, forgiveness, and love, knowing that if we follow him to that place, we will be healed. We will be kinder to others, less bothered by the wrong and hurtful things they do and that as a community, we'll be more willing and able to give help to others; their lack of worthiness would not stop us.

This place of forgiveness, grace, and love is not easy, just like the rest of life. We’ll still have the angst of hurt with us. In fact, we can’t have grace without angst. To give grace, to say, “I forgive you, even though I’m still hurting,” there is going to be angst. The grace says, “I love you despite my angst and my broken heart. I see you as hurting and trying your best, and I want to love you as a fellow imperfect person in need of love and grace. I will, therefore, love and accept you and keep working at giving grace and forgiveness, even though doing so causes me angst. That is my burden to bear. That is me laying down my life for you.”

Doing so, following Jesus in that way, leads to life, and peace, and joy. Laying down our lives, laying down our burdens, heals us. Follow me, Jesus says, as a fellow sheep who understands how hard life is, and give grace, amidst your angst, and be healed.

Brad Sullivan

Easter Sunday

April 1, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

John 20:1-18

Even When the World Tells Us Not To

Happy Easter y’all, as we celebrate Jesus’ resurrection, his victory over death, and the fullness of his great love for us. I love that God joined with us even in death, and then in Jesus’ resurrection, God has shown us the full measure of his grace towards us. We get to share in his eternal life and love, forgiveness and reconciliation.

That’s the nuts and bolts of our faith, we get to share in God’s eternal life and love, forgiveness and reconciliation. I absolutely love our faith, our faith in Jesus and in his resurrection, and I also keep hearing more and more folks who nowadays think we’re kinda nuts for believing in Jesus, or even for believing in a God at all, and that’s fine. To be fair, I don’t know if our faith is true; I can’t prove it, but I love it, and I choose to believe. We choose to believe that there is a God who made us and loves us, frees us and redeems us. We choose to believe that despite our brokenness, God will never quit on us. That is what Jesus’ resurrection means.

God will never quit on us, and yet believing that, we still tend to quit on each other with a fair amount of regularity. I know Lent is over y’all, but such is our condition, our lot in life, that we tend to quit on each other, which is why we need Jesus’ grace and resurrection life in the first place. We start off liking one another and then, we often end up stopping our relationships or letting them slip away. Sometimes it feels like we’re supposed to quit each other for various reasons, such as the insurmountable problems and irreconcilable differences that we face like how we voted in any one single election, our beliefs about those whom we think God may or may not be pleased, how we choose to spend our money, raise our kids, or even how we dress. These are some of the insurmountable barriers that we raise and differences that we face for which we end up quitting each other.

Some in the world may say that division over these differences is ok, but Jesus not so much. We’ve always had differences, reasons why we choose to erect barriers between ourselves and others, but God shows in Jesus’ resurrection that he loves us for who we are, and he wants us to love each other for who we are. Republican. Democrat. Lesbian. Gay. Bisexual. Transgender. Queer. Atheist. Muslim. Jew. Christian. Fundamentalist. Conservative. Liberal. Radical. Black. White. Latino. Asian. Legal. Illegal. Tree hugging, gun loving, gluten free, home-school, hippie.

We have so many labels now, we have a hard time even coming up with enough words to accurately label everyone we see. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that will force us to love each other based on grace and Jesus’ love and resurrection, rather than just by seeming similar enough with some folks to kinda like each other ok. Jesus was raised from the dead to reconcile us to God and each other. His final commandment to his disciples was to love one another, regardless of our stripes, our skin, our labels, our ethnicity, sexuality, beliefs, or legal status. Middle class, high class, low class, no class? “Love one another,” Jesus said.

People are starving for love, even for an ounce of love. People are going to go where they are loved and accepted. Jesus’ resurrection says, “you are loved and accepted,” and yet people often don’t feel loved and accepted in the church, and so they go elsewhere for love and acceptance. We’ve seen this happening as people are leaving the church in droves. Ideologies? Beliefs? Various social activities? Folks can adapt pretty well to many different beliefs, so long as they are loved, and people will stay where they are loved. I’ve often heard adults say they are no longer sure about the faith, but they love the people and community of their church and so they stay. I think Jesus is ok with that.

Lack of faith? Unsure about Jesus and his resurrection? No problem. A loving community can hold a person through doubts and lack of faith. Hopelessness? We can hold a hopeless person in love, and their hope can be restored. That’s why above all else, Jesus commanded us to love each other. That is why Paul wrote that love is greater even than faith and hope, why John wrote that we cannot claim to love God if we do not love each other.

Jesus commanded that we love one another as he loved us, as he loved his disciples. He loved them so much that the first thing he did once he was raised from the dead was to talk to Mary, assure her that he was alive, and to have her spread the good news to the rest of his disciples. Jesus loved his disciples and loves us to the end, and that is the gospel news for us - however messed up we are, Jesus keeps on loving us, and it’s really not because we’re perfect or even good enough. Think about how often Jesus could have and maybe even should have chosen to quit his disciples, get rid of them, and start over with some better ones.

Jesus was transfigured before them, and Peter pipes up, “Hey Jesus - let’s make some booths!” “Seriously Pete, that’s your response? Yeah, ok, we’re done, just um, you stay here, build a transfiguration theme park, something like that. I’m outta here.”

Then there was the time James and John said, “Um, Jesus, we know you’re busy with this whole upcoming death thing, whatever that is, but we want to sit at your right and left hand when you’re all powerful and glorious in majesty. We kinda think we deserve it.”

“Oh, so you’ve been listening intently to all that I’ve been saying and teaching over the years. You’ve really taken none of it in at all. Great. Tell you what, go to the next town over, about 4 miles away. Get a couple of chairs so you can sit on either side of me, and we’ll wait right here. No, don’t dawdle, just go and do not look back.”

What about everyone else, the sex workers and thieves, the refuse of society with whom Jesus so often hung out? “Yeah, you guys are really disgusting and foul, I think I’m just going to leave.”

Jesus didn’t do that. He stuck with them. Just like God keeps staying with us and choosing to love us. Despite our continued brokenness, God sticks with us. That’s the resurrection life, which Jesus invites us to share. Do the hard work of continuing to choose to stay together, and do the hard work of continuing to die daily to self so that you can share in his resurrection, not because people are perfect or even good enough, but just because people are, and just because you can choose to love one another. In Jesus’ resurrection, he shows us that we can love and forgive each other; it’s ok. We’re allowed to, and we need to.

We need love. That’s what Jesus resurrection is ultimately all about, God’s unwavering love for us. God is love, and love how Jesus wants us to be with each other. That’s the resurrection life. We are Jesus’ beloved, the one’s for whom he sent Mary to say, “Jesus is raised from the dead,” and so we get to keep loving each other as he loves us. Even the weirdoes and the uber conservatives. Even the crazy hippie liberals and straight laced conformists. Even the sex workers and thieves. It is ok for us to love those whom others may feel are unlovable. It is ok for us to love each other despite how messed up we all are. It is ok for us to believe in Jesus and find hope in his resurrection. We get to do that despite what others may say. Who cares if people think we’re nuts? Our faith tells us to love each other. Jesus sticks with us and wants us to stick with each other, to share in the joy and the love of his resurrection. We have his permission to do so, even if the world tells us not to.

Brad Sullivan

5th Sunday of Lent

March 18, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

John 12:20-33

Sleeper Awake (and Quit that Darn Snooze Button)

First of all, I’d like to thank my buddy Patrick Hall for his sermon last Sunday entitled, “Risking Exposure,” which helped draw out of me these words for today. You can look him up, Patrick Hall, and search for his sermon from last Sunday called, “Risking Exposure.”

Now turning to today’s sermon, I’ve recently found that one of the worse inventions ever created is the snooze button. It’s a procrastinator’s dream. You get to put off the day and stay comfy in bed, wrapped in the covers for just a little bit longer, which, if you’re going to do that just set the alarm for 10 minutes later. The big problem with the snooze button is what doesn’t get done because of it, the morning walk or time in prayer, the rushing through a morning that could have been more peaceful.

Ok, so as non-horrific and only mildly annoying as that may sound, what about when we begin hitting the snooze button on life? I know I need to do this thing now. I know it’s important. I know it’s where I need to go in life, but I really just want to stay as I am, so I’ll put it off. Snooze.

When the Greeks came to see Jesus, that was an alarm going off for him. As soon as he heard that a couple of Greeks wished to see him, Jesus immediately told his disciples, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified,” aka, it’s time for me to go get arrested and killed. Why was the fact that a couple Greeks wanted to talk to him an alarm clock for Jesus? Perhaps because they were Gentiles, and Jesus realized that in order for his mission to extend to the Gentiles, he had to die and be raised, and the Holy Spirit to come upon his disciples so that they could all continue his work and grow his Kingdom here on earth. Perhaps it was simply some pre-ordained signal given to Jesus by his Father. “Now son, when a couple of Greeks come to talk to you, that’s when it’s time.”

In any case, as soon as that alarm went off, Jesus hopped out of bed, and immediately began preparing his disciples for his coming death. He told them that a grain of wheat must fall into the earth and die so that it could bear much fruit, rather than just stay as it is. Jesus was talking about his Kingdom and the resurrection life within his kingdom both after this life, and in his kingdom life here on earth.

Long before our deaths, we have alarm clocks going off, telling us that it is time for the Kingdom life here on earth, letting us know there are conditions and situations in our lives which need to die to let the Kingdom life happen. We need to let go of an old resentment. We need to stop drinking. We need to stop going halfway with our faith and fully embrace the way of Jesus. We need to let a past relationship go, or we need to stop fooling ourselves that we are ok as we are and admit to just how broken we really are.

We all have alarm clocks going off letting us know that it is time to let that condition or situation die, and we hear the alarm, we know what we need to do, that it is time to get up out of bed, that shadow of the tomb, and let die what needs to die, but instead, we hit the snooze button and stay as we are, assuming we can manage life as it is, assuming we can try harder, do better, and largely stay as we are. This is of course untrue, and we simply wait for the next alarm, keeping our whole lives in the shadow of death, rather than waking up, getting out of bed, and placing that part of our lives that needs death into the tomb.

Why do we do this over and over? Why, when we hear Jesus calling us to let something in our lives die, do we keep hitting that blasted snooze button? We could say lack of trust or lack of belief, fear at facing the new day without whatever part of us we need to let go, or sometimes we’re just so comfortable as we are, even if it’s not working, we’re just so comfortable lying in bed with the covers drawn up, that we don’t want to move. We don’t want to change, because it’s just too hard to get up out of bed, when we know we’ve got that snooze alarm ready to come around again.

The problem is that with this snooze alarm, is that in life, it only makes getting out of bed even harder. We become more engrained in the life we have, and even though we know life is not working, the thought of risking change becomes intolerable. Facing the new day is far too daunting, and we are far too tired, so we hit the darn snooze button again.

Perhaps then, we need to start going to bed earlier, so we’re not so tired in the morning, and the thought of facing the new day doesn’t seem so daunting. By going to bed earlier, I mean intentionally following practices of prayer, of scripture reading, of service to others, setting aside intentional time each day for prayer, learning more and more to trust in Jesus and thereby to be rested enough so that the alarm is not a horrid sound, but an invitation from a trusted friend.

We also need to do these prayer and scripture practices, this service others not only by ourselves, but also in community with others who can help us learn to trust in Jesus more. We need to admit to those prayer, scripture, and service partners, why we keep hitting the snooze button. We need to admit to them and to ourselves what is keeping us in bed so that they can give us extra support so that we can get up out of bed in the morning, knowing we have others to help us face the world without the things we need to let die. We need help putting things in the tomb. We need folks with us at the funeral, and we need those folks with us to help us through the new life as our lives are remade by Jesus, as his fruit begins to grow.

It is a daunting task to let die within us that which Jesus is calling us to let die, and that snooze button is so tempting, but what is waiting for us when we get out of bed is the resurrection life of Jesus’ kingdom here on earth. The love of Jesus, the life of Jesus, the forgiveness and grace of Jesus all both received from Jesus and then given by us to others, that is what we are putting off every time we hit that thrice blasted snooze button. His Kingdom. His resurrection life. His grace and forgiveness, a new life unbound by that which keeps us asleep. That is what is waiting for us.

“Sleeper awake,” Jesus calls. “Quit that darn snooze button, and get out of bed, that shadow of death. Let die within you that which needs to die, and follow me.”

Brad Sullivan

3rd Sunday of Lent

March 4, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

John 2:13-22

Wreck It Rabbi

One of my kids’ and my favorite movies is an animated movie called, “Wreck It Ralph.” Ralph is a video game character, a bad guy whose catch phrase is, “I’m gonna wreck it,” and in this movie, the video game characters are kind of alive and interact with each other when they are off stage, when no one is playing the game. Ralph’s game is a game called Fix It Felix in which Ralph is, again, the bad guy, except that he doesn’t want to be the bad guy. He’s good hearted, but in the game, his job is to destroy a high rise apartment building, and as he does, the tenants shout “Fix It Felix”, and the hero, Fix It Felix comes along and fixes everything that Ralph destroys. So, everyone kinda hates Ralph, then as the movie goes on, they all realize that without Ralph, no one would play their game, and through the rest of the plot, we find that Wreck It Ralph is actually a hero, doing a lot of fixing of some bad things going on through his propensity for wrecking. Spoiler alert, by the end of the movie, they’re all friends.

So, in our Gospel story today, when Jesus overturns the tables of the money changers in the Temple and drives out the animals that were being sold there, he’s kind of like Wreck It Rabbi. He saw the animals and the money changers in the Temple, and he wrecked it. The people were pretty stunned saying, “What the heck just happened?”, eventually calling out, “Fix It Pharisees.”

Well, most of our Bibles probably say, “Jesus cleanse[d] the Temple.” If you’ve got a Bible that has little subject titles inserted in the text, then that insertion, that editor’s note, probably says, “Jesus cleanses the Temple.” It’s cute and catchy as titles go, but here’s the problem, Jesus wasn’t cleansing anything. See the animals and money changers, they were all supposed to be there. The blood sacrifice of animals was part of the temple worship, given as offerings to God for a variety of reasons, including forgiveness of sins. If you didn’t have the best or the right kind of animal of your own, well then you could purchase one. This was all prescribed in the law of Moses. So the people in weren’t making the temple dirty. They were doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing as prescribed in the law of Moses. The problem was that the system was broken. People were stuck under the weight of trying to manage their sin with God through animal sacrifice, and all of that time and effort and resources which could have gone to improving the lives of each other, went instead to trying to appease a seemingly angry God.

So, Jesus was not cleansing the Temple. He was reforming it. He was kinda taking a wrecking ball to his religion, actually, but he was following a long tradition of prophets and psalmists who kept saying over and over, “quit with this animal sacrifice stuff. The temple should be a place of prayer, and seriously, God doesn’t need any goats, or sheep, or cows, or doves. He made them; they are his already.” As the prophet Micah wrote:

Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with tens of thousands of rivers of oil?

Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?’

‘With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high?

Shall I come before him with burnt-offerings, with calves a year old?

He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you

but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

Micah 6:7, 6, 8

Do justice. Love kindness. Walk humbly with God. That’s what Wreck It Rabbi wanted for Temple worship. That’s what Wreck It Rabbi wants for our lives, and he is happy to wreck whatever gets in the way of that. Sometimes our worship getsbtoo performance based, with people getting very upset if someone makes a mistake in the movement or words of the worship. Wreck It Rabbi comes in and says, “this is supposed to be a house of prayer, not a theater company.” Sometimes folks get angry with children making noise, and Wreck It Rabbi comes in and says, “Let the little children come to me, for the kingdom of God belongs to them.” Sometimes we get so caught up in all that we do to prepare for our worship, that we end up thinking that our primary ministry is here, to prepare for our time here, and Wreck It Rabbi comes in and says, “Go in peace to love and serve me, in those you encounter outside of here, for that is your true worship.”

As Jesus comes along and wrecks things, disrupting our worship time, we sometimes get calls of “Fix It Father” from those who have been disrupted. Sometimes, it isn’t Jesus disrupting things, and we really do need to fix it. Other times, Wreck It Rabbi may want us to be disrupted, taking us out of our comfort and our routine in order to wake us up to see him in our lives beyond the Temple, the church, the worship.

By reforming the Temple, in the story we heard today, Wreck It Rabbi reminds us that our lives are not meant to lead us to worship. We don’t spend our time preparing ourselves to be worthy enough to worship God in just the right way. We spend time in worship and prayer to heal our hearts so that we can do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. That’s God’s desire for us. Our truest offerings during prayer and worship are the offerings of our hearts. Whatever is holding us back from doing justice and loving kindness, that is what we offer to God.

In the Morning Prayer service, there is a prayer called, “A Collect for Saturdays,” and I love this prayer except for one word, “sanctuary.” “Almighty God, who after the creation of the world rested from all your works and sanctified a day of rest for all your creatures: Grant that we, putting away all earthly anxieties may be duly prepared for the service of your sanctuary…” (BCP p. 99) Wait a minute. Is there anything we can do to make us righteous enough before God to be worthy enough to come near to the holy place where God dwells? No. We aren’t going to make ourselves more righteous than Jesus already has.

Wreck It Rabbi has no interest in gospels of sin management that keep us down under the heavy burden of fearing an angry God who feels that we are never good enough for him. That’s part of why he and the prophets took a wrecking ball to the animal sacrifice system of Temple worship, and thankfully, Wreck It Rabbi continues to wreck our worship and our ways of life whenever gospels of sin management keep us down, fearing an angry God, rather than trusting in Jesus’ Gospel of light and grace which tells us we are beloved children of a loving God, and that we are worthy to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God.

So, that prayer, then, that collect for Saturdays? I’ve changed that word “sanctuary” to “kingdom.” No we pray, “Almighty God, who after the creation of the world rested from all your works and sanctified a day of rest for all your creatures: Grant that we, putting away all earthly anxieties may be duly prepared for the service of your kingdom…” That is what our rest is for. That is what our worship and prayer is for, so that we may be duly prepared for the service of God’s kingdom, doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God.

What does that look like? Well, that’s going to be a bit different for all of us. For me, one of my passions is children and schools. I was at a meeting of faith leaders on Thursday morning with the HISD superintendent, Richard Carranza, and School Board president, Rhonda Skillern-Jones, among the topics discussed, they invited us to come to a training on March 29 to learn about how best to partner churches with schools to have folks be mentors for kids, to address the needs that principals tell us are there, and to be a part of the village that raises up kids in our community. You can bet I’m going to be there at that meeting because that’s my passion. That’s the broken thing that Wreck It Rabbi has given me a passion for where I would like to do justice, and love kindness, and walk humbly with God.

What about you? What broken thing has Wreck It Rabbi given you a passion for? What broken thing is Jesus calling you to fix? That’s why we’re here. Wreck It Rabbi has brought us here this morning to strengthen us, to heal our hearts, and to remind us that we are beloved children of a loving God so that as we leave this place, we may have eyes to see the broken places and systems of our world and say, “I’m going to wreck it,” and through that wrecking, to fix it, doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God.

Brad Sullivan

Ash Wednesday

February 14, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Choosing to Love…Without All the Time in the World

I was on Facebook this morning as I am every morning, about to start Morning Prayer, which I pray on Facebook so others can join in praying together, and as I was about to start, I noticed a friend’s updated status (a priest friend of mine). The status was a question and an answer.

“So, do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“I’m going to go to work and remind everyone of their inevitable death.”

Happy Valentash Wednesday, everyone. I loved that status update because…well, I love that kind of humor, and because it is so true. Maybe a bit maudlin, I’ll grant you, but we really are here on Ash Wednesday to remind ourselves of our inevitable death, and of the hope that goes with it.

We can only really come to that hope of life in and through and beyond death when we first face and accept death. So many people fear death or try to deny death, and yet death is the one true, inescapable destiny of the human condition. Death is also the great equalizer. In the grave, as we return to the dust, there are no rich or poor, no righteous or unrighteous. Death deals with all equally, as the psalmist says in Psalm 62, “Those of low estate are but a breath, those of high estate are a delusion; in the balances they go up; they are together lighter than a breath.”

Even so, as humans, we’re generally not all that great fans of death. Many of us try to stave it off as long as possible, we try to build up security for ourselves so we can die on our own terms, we fight wars and kill other people in order to prevent our own deaths, and yet without question, everyone is going to face death. Living in fear of death or trying to deny death, we end up imprisoned by death, so much energy and life wasted in an effort to stave off or deny the inevitable. Accepting death, however, and accepting the life that continues on through Jesus’ resurrection, we can be freed from death’s hold over us. All of us go down to the grave, yet even at the grave, we make our song, “Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!” Death still stings, but by accepting it, we can live with death and with hope.

Accepting death, we might be able to accept more readily the miraculous nature of our bodies. We start as dust and we end as dust. Our bodies are comprised entirely of things that didn’t used to be our bodies. Every cell and atom in our bodies used to be something else, some other part of creation, and then as we began to be formed in our mothers’ wombs, all of the formerly other stuff became organized for a time as our bodies. Our bodies remain organized in this way for a time, and then they die and decay. The stuff that was our bodies is disintegrated, and becomes something else. From dust we are made, and to dust we shall return.

We aren’t in these bodies for all that long, as Psalm 90 says, “The span of our life is seventy years, perhaps in strength even eighty; yet the sum of them is but labor and sorrow, for they pass away quickly and we are gone.” Ash Wednesday reminds us of this fact. As we put ashes on our heads and remember our mortal nature, we are offered no escape from death, no denying the fleeting nature of our bodies. In Ash Wednesday, there is also no denying the hope we have in Jesus, that whether we live or we die, we are the Lord’s. As the Lord’s, we continue on in life, even after our mortal bodies return to the dust. Trusting in that, trusting in God’s continual care for our lives even after our bodies die, we are free to live without fear and denial of death. Accepting the ephemeral nature of our lives, accepting that we are dust, and to dust we shall return, we can cherish our bodies and we can cherish each other even more.

Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return may not be the best selling Valentine’s

Day ever, but such a message actually is a message of profound love. If our lives continued on forever, then choosing to share our lives and love with each other would mean far less. If things didn’t work out in a relationship, we’d have all the time in the world to try with someone else. As it is, we don’t have all the time in the world, and so choosing to share our lives and love with people is a tremendous gift and something to be cherished. As transitory as this life is, I choose to live it with you, family, friends, loved ones. I choose to cherish you while you inhabit that body, and I choose love you, trusting that through God’s eternal life, not even the heartache of death will end the love and communion we share. I choose to cherish and share my life with you knowing that we are all dust, and to dust we shall all return. Maybe it’s not such a bad Valentine’s Day card after all.

Brad Sullivan

Last Sunday after the Epiphany

February 11, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

2 Corinthians 4:3-6

Mark 9:2-9

God Is In the Grind

Have you ever been outside walking around and then looked up and been startled, scared even, by a hideous, almost other worldly beast staring at you with hungry eyes, vicious teeth, and razor sharp claws, only to have your eyes refocus and realize you were in fact looking at a tree branch? The tree branch didn’t change, only how your eyes saw the tree branch changed. I wonder if that isn’t something like what happened to Peter and James and John with the transfiguration. Rather than Jesus changing before their eyes, perhaps what changed was their eyes’ ability to see for a few minutes something they had not previously been able to see: the radiance and majesty of the light of Jesus. Perhaps even, Moses and Elijah had been there previously as well, unseen and unheard by Peter, and James, and John, until God changed something within them and allowed them to see and experience more of the world than any of us are able to see or experience with our regular senses.

Perhaps Jesus took Peter, and James, and John up to the mountain top in order to change something of their ability to see and experience the world for a short time, so that they saw not only the majesty of Jesus, but also the majesty of God’s kingdom in which those who have died are still alive and well with God, and the world. Perhaps then, when God turned the dimmer switch back down on Jesus and Moses and Elijah disappeared, what they had seen on the mountain didn’t cease to be, but only their ability to see it. As beautiful and wonderful as the world is then, what they saw for a short time was that the world is far more beautiful than they or we could ever have imagined.

Little wonder then that they wanted to make booths and stay there. In any mountain top experience, any jaw dropping, mind blowing, beautiful experience of our lives, we tend to want to stay in that moment, rather than come back down to earth to the drudgery of daily life. As much as we like to poke fun at Peter for seemingly always saying the wrong thing, I have a feeling we’d have all wanted to stay up on the mountain a little while longer as well.

I wonder then how Peter, and James, and John saw the world once they came back down the mountain. Did the world seem dull by comparison? Maybe, but I sure hope not. I hope instead that after Jesus’ transfiguration, the world seemed to Peter, and James, and John to be alight with possibility and alive with wonder. I hope they realized that everything they saw up on that mountain was still there in the regular old mundane world, just simply hidden from their eyes.

I would say that’s the reason for any mountain top experience, any jaw dropping, mind blowing, beautiful realization of the majesty of God and his kingdom all around us. We’re never meant to stay on top of the mountain. The only reason we go up the mountain to see Jesus transfigured before us is so that we can come down the mountain and also see Jesus in the miracle of the mundane, the non-dopamine laced divinity of the daily drudge. Every moment is a possibility for love and wonder. Every person we see is a beautiful miracle of God’s design, made with the spark of God’s image and the dust of our common humanity out of which we are all made and to which we all go. We go up the mountain in order to come down, realizing Jesus is just as transfigured at the bottom of the mountain as at the top, even if we can’t see it

Bishop Doyle writes similarly in his book, The Jesus Heist: (p. 67)

The only reason to come into a community [for worship] is so you can learn how to leave it and do the real work of worship - being with Christ in the world around us. This is how we show the love of God - we go and love people, heal people, care for people, live with people, eat with people. We go and discover where Jesus is in the world and join his work there.

Whether the mountain, or church service, or any experience we have of the divine, we’re never meant to stay, we’re meant to live, and we’re meant to realize that the rest of our lives are every bit as sacred. As mundane as our lives may seem at times, they and we are all part of something bigger and far more beautiful than we can see or imagine.

Something as simple as a kind gesture. Giving a cup of cold water to a kid who is thirsty, as Jesus said…or an old person who is thirsty for that matter. Going to work or school each day at a job that does not satisfy or an education that seems pointless, God is there just as much as on the mountain top in the miracle of the mundane.

What in us keeps us from seeing the miracle of the mundane and the divinity of the daily drudge? How about our wounds? How about our desires to make the world be how we want it rather than to accept the world as it is? What if we were to give some of those wounds and desires to God so that he might heal them and transform us so that we could see the miracle of the mundane and the divinity of the daily drudge?

That’s kinda what Lent is all about, which we start this Wednesday. That is why we give things up during Lent, and so my suggestion is this: rather than give up something simple like Diet Coke or Chocolate, try giving up some of your woundedness which keeps you from seeing the miracle of the mundane. Try giving up some of your desires for control which keep you from seeing the divinity of the daily drudge…or perhaps, do try giving up something as mundane as Diet Coke or Chocolate and see the miracle of the world in even so simple a sacrifice.

In any case, realize that the sacrifice, like the mountain top, like the community gathering for worship is not the point, is not where we stay. The sacrifice, like the mountain top, like the community gathering for worship is done so that we can then come back down the mountain, leave the gathering for worship and “do the real work of worship - to show the love of God by loving people, healing people, caring for people, living with people, eating with people: going and discovering where Jesus is in the [mundane] everyday world and joining his work there,” for God is in the work, the common work of eating with people, living with people, working with people, getting angry with and reconciling with people, caring for people, healing people, loving people, and seeing people as brothers and sisters. That is the work where God is at the bottom of the mountain.

God is in the grind of daily life. Realizing that truth, trusting that God is in the grind just as much as on the mountain, we can spend the grind in worship and prayer, in communion with God, every moment a miracle, every step a sacred act, resting in God’s presence, even in the mundanity of daily life, for God is in the grind.

Father Snort