Sweet Dude! Fire From Heaven!

Brad Sullivan
Proper 8, Year C
Sunday, June 30, 2013
St. Mark’s, Bay City
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
Luke 9:51-62

The people did not accept Jesus, and Jesus didn’t want fire to be brought down upon him.  Rather, he wanted to continue with his ministry.  Jesus didn’t get caught up in pining for what he desired would happen.  He had hoped they would accept him; they didn’t.  He went on to continue his task of proclaiming the Gospel and going to Jerusalem to complete his ministry on the cross.

I’m guessing we’re rather fond of that part of our Gospel story, no fire from Heaven for not accepting Jesus, but then we come to the next part of our Gospel story.  Jesus invites a man to follow him, and when the man asks to bury his father, Jesus replies, "Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." Another said, "I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home." Jesus said to him, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."

Ok, so I don’t think Jesus is intending to say, “funerals bad; leave the dead to rot.”  Rather, I think he’s saying something along the lines of, “if you wait until everything is perfect in order to follow me, then you’re never gonna follow me.  The world is not always going to be the way we want the world to be, and even so, follow me,” Jesus is saying.

I’m about to sing a song which I wrote called The Wild Hunt (words and music by Brad Sullivan, BMI).  It’s based on a Norse folk legend of Odin’s Wild Hunt which was this fearful time when Odin rode out to collect the souls of the dead.  This was during winter, the season of darkness and death, and people would hunker down, afraid of being swept away in the chaos of The Wild Hunt, this fearful season.  Then, the winter solstice, the longest night of the year came, after which the nights got shorter, the days got longer, and people celebrated the return of light in the world. 

So, I wrote this rather dark song about The Wild Hunt which I’m going to sing for you now, and then I’ll explain what in the world this has to do with the Gospel.

The Wild Hunt

words and music by Brad Sullivan, BMI

Winter’s come like lightning with Autumn’s setting sun,

The harvest stored preparing for the cold and dark to come.
The chilly wind a portent, death is stirring in the earth
Across the Texas plains as they wait for the Sun’s rebirth.
You hold your wife; you bless and kiss your daughter and your son,
And huddle close together.  The Wild Hunt’s begun.
 
The howling of the hounds is borne to you upon the wind,
And you wonder if tonight is the beginning or the end.
Chaos bleeds as thund’rous steeds advance across the night.
You peer into the darkness, but there’s nothing there to fight.
So you light a candle, praying, knowing there’s nowhere to run,
And huddle close together.  The Wild Hunt’s begun.

He comes with death surrounding him, his servants heed his call,

Drawn out from the shadows where they lay but did not fall.
Six more weeks to go until you reach the darkest night,
With the sacred promise that the world will be put right.
Knowing this, you also know the madness never ends,
For every day we walk the earth The Wild Hunt begins.
 

So there’s darkness and this fearful time and the song ends by acknowledging that even when the light comes back into the world at the winter solstice, the Wild Hunt never really end.  Every day we walk the earth, the Wild Hunt begins.  That being the case, it is also true that the return of the light happens every day.  There is darkness and chaos in the world every day, and there is the light of Jesus in the world every day.  We’re not just going to hunker down in fear of the chaos every day for the rest of our lives.  As disciples of Jesus, we step out into the darkness with the light of Jesus, facing into the chaos and continuing to live and proclaim the good news of God’s love and God’s kingdom in the Gospel of Jesus.

We’ve had some big changes in our world recently with the Supreme Court decisions over the last several weeks, overturning parts of DOMA and declaring Proposition 8 unconstitutional.  Now the Texas senate is considering a bill about abortion, and other changes in our laws may be taking place.  For some of us, these changes are darkness.  For some of us these changes are light.  For all of us, these are substantial changes, adding to the chaos of the world, and as disciples of Jesus, we’re called not to hunker down in fear of the chaos or to ask fire to come down on those we think are wrong. 

As disciples of Jesus, we keep our faces set toward Jerusalem, as Jesus did, meaning we keep on in mission and ministry, serving as the light of Jesus in the world.  It’s a crazy world with new things happening all the time.  Sometimes we’re fans of the change, sometimes we’re not.  We can look back to the past, wishing the world was the way it used to be, but we don’t live in the past, we live in the here and now.  We put our hand to the plow and we don’t look back because our constant is Jesus.  Every day we walk the earth, the light of Jesus is with us.  Every day we walk the earth, we step out into the chaos of the world proclaiming by how we live and by what we say that the light of Jesus is here in the world.  Every day we walk the earth, the Gospel life begins.  Amen.

Jesus Didn't Force the Man to Be Healed

Brad Sullivan
Proper 7, Year C
Sunday, June 23, 2013
St. Mark’s, Bay City
1 Kings 19:1-4, 5-7), 8-15a
Psalm 43
Galatians 3:23-29
Luke 8:26-39

 In our Kings reading today, Elijah was fleeing for his life from Ahab and Jezebel, and God met him on the mountain where he was hiding.  Before meeting with Elijah, God send a destructive wind, then an earthquake, then fire, three things with which God could destroy Ahab and Jezebel and all those who were seeking to kill Elijah.  God’s power was far greater than anything Ahab and Jezebel had, and yet we are told that God was not in the wind, nor the earthquake, nor the fire.

Rather, after all three of these had passed, there was a sound of sheer silence, and God was in the silence.  Out of the silence, God spoke to Elijah, asked him what he was doing, and told him what to do and where to go next.  Elijah was lost, in need of reassurance and direction, and out of the silence, God gave him the reassurance and direction he needed.

We are shown through this story to seek God in the silence.  When troubles are at our door and life seems overwhelming, silence is often the last thing we want, better to distract and anesthetize ourselves with all kinds of noisy activity, and yet the silence is where we meet God.  Silence is also where we have to face the parts of ourselves which we may not want to face.

Looking at the story of the Gerasene demoniac, the gentile man who had many demons inside him, we see a story of Jesus healing a man who was afraid of being healed.  The man was living in a graveyard because the demons had forced him out there.  He could not be bound even by chains because the demons were so strong.  You’d think the man would want the demons gone, and yet, when Jesus ordered the demons to leave him, he begged Jesus not to torment him. 

Being healed is often a painful process so much so that we sometimes want to go on as we are rather than face the pain of being healed.  I’m guessing the demons were hurting the man as they were being cast out, clawing at him to stay inside of him because, as they said to Jesus, they did not want to be returned to the abyss, likely the depths of the sea, the dark place where the souls of the dead were thought to dwell.

Now, Jesus could have and by all accounts should have told the demons, I don’t negotiate with demon scum like you.  Leave the man now and return to the abyss.  Jesus could have said that and the man would have been healed, and the demons would have the punishment they deserved.  Instead, Jesus had compassion on the demons and allowed them to enter the swine. 

With that, the demons seem to have gone peacefully, Jesus’ compassion saving the man from greater torment as well.  After this, the man was healed.  Still, Jesus had compassion on the demons.  Why should he have done that?  It may have saved the man some pain, but shouldn’t the demons have been punished? 

Well, yes, they should have been, but remember we’re talking about the same Jesus who taught us to pray for and bless our enemies.  Jesus was doing exactly what he taught us to do. 

Looking again at the man in the story, he had been totally controlled by the demons, having no will of his own.  Then, Jesus comes to heal him, by offering that same force of will on the demons.  Perhaps even the man didn’t want Jesus to force and control the demons as he had been forced and controlled.  Perhaps the man didn’t want Jesus to remove the demons because he saw Jesus as one even more powerful than the demons, and he was afraid of Jesus was going to force him to do once the demons were gone.  The devils he knew were better, he thought, than this even more powerful man whom he didn’t know.  Jesus, then, allows the demons to enter the swine as they had asked, and they leave the man peacefully. 

At this point, the man understands that Jesus is one whom he can truly trust.  He healed the man, and he did it in a way totally opposite of the way the demons had harmed him.  Having been asked to stop, Jesus didn’t force the healing on the man.  Having been begged to show mercy, Jesus showed mercy even on the demons.  The man then saw Jesus as one whom he would gladly follow, wherever he led, and Jesus then showed compassion once more, this time by saying “no”. 

Rather than taking this man away from everything and everyone he knew, rather than bring the man with him back to Israel where he would be hated as a gentile, Jesus tells the man to return to his home and declare there all that God had done for him.  Return to the place that you have been driven from, return to your life, and be truly and fully healed.  Return and declare all that God has done for you, and so the man went away, joyfully telling all that Jesus had done for him.

Jesus had compassion on the man by healing him, by giving him a choice rather than forcing him, by having him return to his home to be restored to his life.  Jesus even had compassion on the demons who had been tormenting the man, and Jesus is the one whom we meet in the silence.

Are we at times afraid to meet God in the silence?  Are we afraid of facing the demons within us?  Are we afraid of what new direction God might have for us?  Do we seek God in the silence?  Do we distract ourselves from the silence with noise?  Can we face the demons within us?  Will we allow God to heal us when we do?  Healing seems painful, and yet perhaps it won’t be as painful as we imagine.  Jesus is mighty.  He is one with God who showed his power in the wind, the earthquake, and the fire.  Meeting with Jesus in the silence can be rather daunting, and yet Jesus had compassion on a legion of demons.  Will he not have compassion on us, even as we face the demons within ourselves?

In the silence, we can meet the Jesus of healing, the Jesus of compassion, the Jesus who gives us new direction in our lives, direction that leads to even greater healing.  Meeting with Jesus in the silence, we also find peace enough that we can perhaps pray for our enemies, and have compassion on those who hate us.  Meeting Jesus in the silence, we may also find peace enough to have compassion on and forgive ourselves as well. 

I’ve been told by many people here of their practice of seeking Jesus in the silence, seeking Jesus in prayer.  Can we also find peace enough in the silence to take the next step?  Can we tell others about the peace we find in meeting Jesus in the silence?  Can we declare, like the healed demoniac, all that God has done for us? 

We needn’t go to some far away land.  We needn’t go to a random street corner or to strangers.  Jesus told the man “return to your home, and declare all that God has done for you.”  Following his example, we would declare all that Jesus has done for us in our homes, among our family and friends. 

There are, after all, many among our family and friends who do not meet Jesus in the silence.  There are many who used to, but have stopped for one reason or another.  We can declare to them, with the same compassion and love which Jesus showed the Gerasene demoniac, all that Jesus has done for us.  We can help remind them of the peace which comes from meeting Jesus in the silence, of the compassion and healing which Jesus offers.  So, if you trust in Jesus’ compassion and love, if you have met Jesus in the silence, then go, return to your homes, and declare all that God has done for you.  Amen.

This is Too Important to Get Right

Brad Sullivan
Proper 6, Year C
Sunday, June 16, 2013
St. Mark’s, Bay City
1 Kings 21:1-10, (11-14), 15-21a
Psalm 5:1-8
Galatians 2:15-21
Luke 7:36-8:3

In thinking about our Gospel story this week, one thing occurred to me which had never really occurred to me before.  The Pharisee was right.  That woman had no business being in his house.  He was having a dinner party, and this woman whom he hadn’t invited showed up and began harassing one of his guests, all of that, in addition to the fact that she was a sinner.  We don’t know how bad she was or exactly what she did, but it was enough to have been well known, such that she was notoriously sinful.

So the Pharisee was right.  She didn’t have any business being there, and the Pharisee was committed to upholding what was right.  The woman needed to change her ways, and possibly make some big time changes to her ways before she showed up at the Pharisee’s house. 

The Pharisee was holding this woman accountable for her actions, saying “that’s not who we are.  We don’t behave the way you’ve been behaving.  God has given us a way of life in which the harm you’ve been causing yourself and others just doesn’t fit.”  The Pharisee wanted her to change her ways, to live as a Jew before he would have her in his house.

Jesus, you’ll notice didn’t disagree.  The woman was a sinner, Jesus even said she had many sins, and yet rather than hold her to task for her sins, rather than be concerned with what was right, he decided to forgive her.  The way of Jesus is the way of love and forgiveness.  Jesus knew she wanted to repent, to change her ways, so he had no problem forgiving her.  He wasn’t concerned with justifying himself in his actions.  He wasn’t concerned with being right like the Pharisee was.  Jesus was only concerned about doing what was right for the woman. 

Now the Pharisee might have said, “but wait, Jesus, that woman doesn’t deserve to be forgiven.”  Jesus would have said, “You got it.  You’re right.  That’s the point.”  We don’t forgive people because they deserve it.  We forgive people out of love. 

If we wait to forgive until a person deserves it, until that person has paid whatever penalty is owed, then we aren’t practicing forgiveness.  We’re just burning the note after a debt is paid.  Forgiveness means forgiving the debt, not collecting, burning the note before the debt is paid.  That means giving up our pride, giving up our sense of justice, and giving up our sense of what is right.

Being comfortable with who we are, is essential if we are going to be forgiving people who love God.  I’ve found it easy to forgive when I am at peace with myself.  When I feel threatened or wronged or feel somehow less than I should be (don’t feel great about my life or myself), then I find it difficult to forgive.  I want to uphold justice and a sense of what is right and part of that is to soothe my own sense of being wronged or hurt somehow. 

I think the Pharisee felt this way.  Like most of us, I’m guessing he had varying degrees of self doubt and hurt inside of him.  Carrying those burdens, the Pharisee had a hard time forgiving.  Carrying the burdens of self doubt and hurt, he had a strong need to uphold justice and to uphold what was right.  To be more complete himself, he felt he had to do what was “right”, he had to hold the woman accountable for her sins. 

Jesus, on the other hand, was totally ok with who he was.  He was not burdened with self doubt or hurt, and so he could forgive the woman.  Unconcerned with making her pay her penalty before she could be forgiven, Jesus saw a woman who was hurting.  Jesus saw a woman who was in pain, probably from others and from her own poor choices, and he decided to ease her pain and forgive her sins.

When we, like Jesus are content with life as it is, we can more readily forgive. When we have no need to feel strong, we can forgive.  Forgiveness is an act of weakness so to speak.  If we hold something over someone’s head, not forgiving them, then there is a feeling of power over that person.  Forgiving that person is giving up that power. 

Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, “The Lord said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’  So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.  Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.” 

Content with our own weaknesses, we can more readily forgive others out of love for others.  Giving up our power, giving up our strength and forgiving others is the way of God, the way of Jesus, to forgive out of love, rather than to hold onto the wrong out of being right.  The forgiveness someone’s wrong may not be deserved, but that’s God’s way, to forgive.

Notice also the result of forgiveness.  She loved Jesus greatly, having been forgiven much.  “Therefore, I tell you,” Jesus said, “her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love.”  When someone acknowledges their sins, and that person’s sins are forgiven, the result is love.  We love because of the kindness shown and want to then give that same kindness to others.

Must we, then, build up a huge store of bad deeds so that we can be forgiven much in order to love God?  Do we have to sin a lot in order to love God more?  If we live a wholesome life, honoring God and honoring each other in our actions, will we then love God less because we feel we have been forgiven less?  By not feeling as strongly the gratitude from having been forgiven much, would we necessarily love less? 

Well, possibly, but I don’t believe necessarily.  Otherwise, the lesson would be, “Go, sin a whole big darn lot, that way, when you’re done, you can repent and really love God, and be that much better off.”  We can also love God purely for the beauty of who God is.  We don’t have to hate ourselves in order to love God.

We do, however, need to be able to look at ourselves honestly.  We do need to be able to acknowledge our faults.  In doing to, we can become comfortable with who we are.  We may not like all of who we are, but by acknowledging our faults, we can accept God’s forgiveness, love God more, and be content with who we are, scars and all.  Accepting our own weakness, we can trust more in God’s strength, accept God’s forgiveness, and love more fully.  For “‘[God’s] grace is sufficient for [us], for power is made perfect in weakness.’ So, [we] will boast all the more gladly of [our] weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in [us]... for whenever [we are] weak, then [we are] strong.”  Amen.