Christmastime Is (still) Here

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.  On the eve of 2016, I am not only preparing for the new year, but am also still celebrating Christmas.  For many Christians, Christmas is a day, but for us, it is a season lasting 12 days from December 25th until the Epiphany on January 6th.  Our tree is still up and our lights are still on as we continue to celebrate the light of Jesus coming into the world and into our lives.  

At our Wednesday Bible study and Eucharist, we discussed the opening of John's Gospel and the light of Jesus which the darkness cannot overcome.  Two questions arose:  What is the light of Jesus, and is it in us because we are human or only if we believe in Jesus?

The light of Jesus is not overly easy to define, and that's a good thing.  When we distill God down to simple definitions, we tend to end up with a fairly shallow view of God.  "God is love" works well, but than again, what is more mysterious and deep than love?  The light of Jesus is the very life of God which spoke all of creation into existence.  The light of Jesus is Jesus himself, his ways, his teachings, his love of humanity, his love of God, his deep affection for all of creation.  The light of Jesus is what Paul calls the fruits of the Spirit:  love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

The light of Jesus is all of these things.  The light of Jesus is present whenever darkness and the works of darkness (misery, anger, suffering, hardness of heart, hate, non-forgiveness) are being cast out.  

Is the light of Jesus in us only if we believe in Jesus?  Again, this is difficult to know with certainty, but my belief is that the light of Jesus is within all of us.  It is part of what makes of human, the image of God in which we were all made.  Knowing Jesus and following in his ways brings that light to the forefront of our lives.  The light of Jesus still shines in those who don't know Jesus - people made in the image of God, with the light which casts out darkness.  We can recognize the light of Jesus wherever, whenever, and in whomever we see darkness and the works of darkness being cast out.  

Our lives are meant to shine not only to bring the light of Jesus, but also to bear witness to the light of Jesus.  Our human nature is not ours alone, but a nature which is intimately connected to the God who made us.  His light shines in us.  

The question arose during the Bible study as to whether we have light within us that is our own, or are we only good because God dwells within us.  We cannot separate the two.  Part of what it means to be human is to have God's light shining within us.  That is our human nature.  God's light is not separate from us, placed within us to fix us of our humanity.  God's light is part of who we are, part of our make up.  The light of Jesus is part of our true humanity.  Through our lives, we seek not to overcome our humanity, but to live out our humanity in its fullness, with the light of Jesus, the image of God in which we were made, shining within us.

 

Merry Christmas.

Brad+

Darkness Does Not Dim the Light...Neglect Does

Brad Sullivan

Christmas Eve, Year C

December 27, 2015

Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

John 1:1-18

When Jesus was born, it was likely a tough year.  Herod was king over Israel.  While he had not yet committed the mass murder of infants and toddlers, such a heart still dwelled within that man who was king.  It couldn’t have been great with him as monarch.  Rome still ruled over Israel with their taxes and contempt for the people of Israel.  Darkness was everywhere, and into that darkness came the light of Jesus.  With all of the bad, we still hear the story of a single baby being born.

We’re told that on the night of Jesus’ birth, Mary pondered what was meant that Jesus is the Messiah, the Lord.  John, in his Gospel, seeks to answer those questions.  Jesus brought life into being and that life is the light of all people.  As Jesus came among us, the true light was coming into the world, full of grace and truth.  The light of Jesus shone in the darkness of the world, and the darkness did not overcome it.

There was plenty of darkness after Jesus was born.  Less than two years after Jesus was born, King Herod went on his killing spree, murdering infants and toddlers, and so Mary and Joseph had to flee Israel and go to Egypt, not an easy trip with a toddler, less so when you are fleeing the threat of death.  Then, as word came that Herod had been successful in his mass killing of infants and toddlers, and Mary and Joseph knew it was because he had wanted to kill Jesus, those deaths must have pierced their souls.  They knew some of the children Herod had killed, knew their parents; Jesus had been playing with some of them, would have grown up together.  The darkness began to overwhelm Mary and Joseph.  Then they looked at Jesus and the saw the light of God piercing the darkness of the world.  They saw how special he was, saw God’s grace and truth already manifest in him.  They looked at Jesus and knew that it all was worth it and all would be well, even for the slaughtered innocents.  The light shone in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.

By all accounts, it has been a tough year for us too.  We haven’t had any state sanctioned mass killings of infants and toddlers, but we have had plenty of mass killings.  The economy has declined in Texas with the decline of oil prices.  We are still involved in multiple wars in the Middle East.  Politicians and presidential candidates sound not like statesmen, but like middle schoolers arguing in the lunchroom (no offense intended to our middle schoolers).  Many of these politicians seem to want to use the darkness to increase peoples’ fear, so that we’ll vote for them as the solution to the darkness.

There certainly is more than enough darkness to be overcome by, but we look not to politicians, but to Jesus.  We look to Jesus and see his light, full of grace and truth, and the darkness of the world recedes.  We don’t ignore or tune out the problems of our lives and our world when we look to Jesus, we get a lamp filled with his light so we can make our way through the darkness without shame or fear.

The thing about darkness is, it seems oppressive and vast, threatening to drown everyone in a flood.  Darkness seems that way, but it is held back and cast out by even the smallest light.  We carry the light of Jesus with us to light our way through the darkness.  We carry the light of Jesus with us to light the way for others.

The thing about light is, darkness does not extinguish the light.  There may be far greater darkness than light, but no matter how vast the darkness, it cannot extinguish the light.  Only neglect can do that.  Fires don’t go out because it becomes too dark around the fire.  Fires go out when they are left untended.  Darkness does not extinguish the light of Jesus in our lives or in the world.  Only our neglect of our faith can dim the light of the Gospel in the lamps we carry.

When we neglect the Gospel, the light of Jesus dims within us.  When we neglect our faith, the light of Jesus dims within us.  When we neglect of spending time in the presence of God, dwelling in his love, hope, and peace, then the light of Jesus dims within us.  When the light of Jesus dims within us, then the light of Jesus dims within the world.

On Christmas Eve, I said that like Mary, we are God bearers, bringing the story of Jesus with us, bringing faith in Jesus with us to share with others.  So many need to hear the story, need to witness faith in Jesus.  We are meant to be God bearers for them.

We are also light bearers, carrying with us the light of Jesus to shine in the darkness for others.  To do this, we have to tend the flames.  If we neglect the fire of the Gospel, then it will still burn within us, but it can become too dim for people to notice, and people need to notice.  With the darkness in the world, people need the light of Jesus.  We need the light of Jesus.

And what is the light of Jesus, the grace and truth which the darkness cannot overcome?  The way of choosing vulnerability over power, the way of choosing love over anger and pride, the way of choosing forgiveness and reconciliation over righteousness and revenge, the way of walking and dwelling with God.  These are the ways of Jesus, the way of the light.

Jesus showed us a new way of being, but he did not just come to give us a new law.  The light of Jesus itself is simply Jesus.  The light of Jesus is not only a way, but a person, the Word of God which spoke creation into existence, the Word of God which became human, uniting us all forever to God in perfect unity.  God became human in Jesus, showing us what it is to be truly and fully human.  The light of Jesus burns within us, within our true humanity, and the darkness within us cannot overcome it.  Amen.

We Are God-Bearers

Brad Sullivan

Christmas Eve, Year C

December 24, 2015

Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

Luke 2:1-14(15-20)

When Kristin’s and my first son, Noah, was born, we were rather excited, a little apprehensive, and not entirely clueless as to what we were supposed to do and what was coming.  There I was, the proud daddy-to-be, standing by Kristin’s side in the delivery room, looking lovingly and expectantly at my wife, and as the nurse was getting Kristin’s vitals, she asks me, “are you the coach?”    

“Uh, I’m her husband, father of the little baby in there.  Does that count?”  Apparently it did because the nurse let me stay.  I don’t know how successfully coachy I was, but as husband and father, I did a pretty good job, there by her side, holding her hand throughout the three-hour delivery.

I’m not sure whether or not Joseph was an overly good coach when Mary gave birth either.  I’m guessing he was nearby, but I’m further guessing that there were more than a few women with Mary when she gave birth to Jesus.  Notice that when the shepherds came to see Jesus just after his birth, all who heard the shepherds were amazed at what they said, not only Mary and Joseph, but all who heard.

Giving birth to a baby is not an overly tidy event, and the birth of Jesus was probably not an overly quiet event either.  Imagine the folks who were staying in the inn listening to Mary throughout her labor and delivery.  The husbands who were there, if they even woke up, probably asked their wives to go do something about the noise, thinking it was just their own kids crying, and the women probably went to help.

They found a young woman, giving birth to her firstborn child.  You can bet they were by her side, helping Mary to deliver Jesus, giving her encouragement, and serving as midwives.  The men probably did come down and sit with Joseph and hand out cigars once Jesus was born.  They didn’t offer him a room, but they were probably there.  Then, the women at least stayed with this new mother and father, helping them swaddle Jesus and tend to their needs.  Together then, this gathering of people received the shepherds and heard their news of an angel choir announcing Jesus’ birth.  Together, they heard that Jesus was the Messiah, the Lord, and they were amazed.

In the days that followed, they questioned and wondered, and started to believe.  They started to believe that Jesus was something special, something beyond an ordinary baby, something beyond an ordinary king.  They stared to believe because of what the shepherds told them.  The shepherds had been in their fields, away from the town.  Mary was pretty loud giving birth, but she wasn’t that loud.  The shepherds’ story of angelic messengers and a heavenly choir must have been true.  So the people who were there to help with Jesus’ birth wondered, like Mary, what all of this meant.  Who would Jesus grow up to be?  What did it mean that the Messiah, the Lord, had just been born?  Who did they tell?   Who else started wondering with hopeful anticipation about the savior?  They didn’t fully understand yet, but they began telling people that this baby, named Jesus, was born.

Our faith was never meant to be private.  The good news of Jesus was always meant to be shared.  The good news of Jesus birth is still meant to be shared.  Everyone in this country knows that tomorrow is Christmas.  I don’t care what faith people have, Christmas is such a part, even of our secular culture, that everyone knows about Christmas.  A lot of people, however, still need to hear about the birth of Jesus.

People may know it is Christmas, but they may not know or may have forgotten the mind-boggling, soul healing significance of Jesus’ birth.  Large scale media campaigns just don’t do justice to sharing the good news of Jesus birth.  Intimate personal sharing of the good news is how Jesus birth was shared back then.  That’s how God intends us to share it now.

What is the good news of Jesus’ birth?  God became human and trusted himself to us.  We who deep inside are all at some level of mess, we who strive for the right things and end up reaching the wrong things, we who seek power over the slings and arrows of life and end up somewhere on the path to the dark side, we were entrusted with Jesus, not because we are perfect, but because we are beloved.  We’ve been entrusted with Jesus and God has joined himself with us forever, walking with us again as he did in Eden.

That is good news that is meant to be shared.  The way of Jesus is meant to be shared.  The way of choosing vulnerability over power, the way of choosing love over anger and pride, the way of choosing forgiveness and reconciliation over righteousness and revenge, the way of walking and dwelling with God:  these ways are the way of Jesus, and the way of Jesus is meant to be shared.

Whenever we share the birth of Jesus, whenever we share his ways, Jesus is born again in our hearts and in the hearts of those with whom we share him.  Whenever we share the birth of Jesus, we become God-bearers.  That was a title given to Mary, the Theotokos, the God-bearer.  Like the shepherds and the people present at Jesus’ birth, we bring the news of Jesus’ birth into the world.  Then, like Mary, we are God-bearers as well.  Amen.

Slings & Arrows

Brad Sullivan

4 Advent, Year C

December 20, 2015

Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

Luke 1:39-45 (46-55)

Slings & Arrows

My family and I saw Star Wars:  The Force Awakens on Friday night, and it was totally awesome, everything I’ve been waiting almost 30 years for.  Tickets were sold out for weeks before the movie even opened (we had our since October), and we’re seeing it again tomorrow night (with tickets we’ve also had since October).  Apparently there are some people in the world who don’t particularly care about Star Wars, but even they have heard about this near miraculous event.  It’s been this enormously huge deal for years in the making, international headlines, and when it really comes down to it, this movie doesn’t really matter, not even a little bit.  It’s a movie.  It’s great storytelling.  It’s a huge part of our culture, but it’s still just a movie.  By the way, I’ll deny having said that if anyone asks later.

On the other side of things, you’ve got the most important news ever in the birth of Jesus.  God became human and lived among us.  The light which casts out all darkness condescended to be one of us, and almost no one knew it.  On the scales of life, Jesus…is kind of a bigger deal than Star Wars, and yet there was almost no anticipation for his birth.  Mary and Joseph knew.  That’s it.  Mary was seen as a no good young woman, possibly cheating on her fiancé, and Joseph was seen as the chump who stuck with her.  Most people in their family probably weren’t even overly excited about the birth of this scandalously conceived child.

Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin, didn’t even know, until Mary came to see her for the big reveal party.  As soon as Mary spoke, the baby in Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy because he somehow recognizes that the God of the universe is dwelling a few feet away in Mary’s womb.  Elizabeth is then informed by the Holy Spirit that Mary is pregnant and that the baby in her womb is not some bastard, but God himself.  Kind of a big deal for a baby’s existence and sex to be given by divine revelation, and even still, we’re only up to three people and a baby-in-the-womb who know about Jesus and his divine nature.

Admittedly, there was an angel fanfare birth announcement to some shepherds on the night Jesus was born, but international fame and previews so widely viewed that they broke the internet didn’t exactly precede God’s arrival.  God chose to come humbly and quietly.

God did not choose to be a king or someone whom anyone had to serve or obey when he became human.  No one had to follow him.  No one had to obey him.  Folks flocked to him, however, not because of his lofty station, but simply because of who he was.  People loved Jesus.

Unless of course Jesus seemed to threaten someone’s station or power, then they weren’t overly enamored of him.  Even still, Jesus didn’t take their power by destroying anything.  He used words to call people out for their hypocrisy or misdeeds, sure, but he staged no coups.  Just like how Mary sang of God, Jesus scattered the proud, brought down the powerful, and lifted up the lowly.  Those in power before Jesus were largely in the same position of power after Jesus, but their power was diminished because those under them believed in Jesus instead of them.  Folks only have power if other folks are willing to do what they say, and Jesus exposed the powerful as charlatans:  denouncing the scribes and Pharisees, out arguing the lawyers, etc.

Jesus had power not by lording his power over others, but by loving others, by being who he was, and by lifting up those who had fallen down.  Jesus had power because he offered people grace.  He taught and guided people to love God and to love each other, and then he offered grace when people fell short.  This was no process to gain followers and influence people; it was not a habit of a highly effective messiah.  Jesus wasn’t trying to get power.  He was simply being who he was:  loving, teaching, and full of grace.

Jesus showed us, therefore, by his humble origins and divine grace-filled self that we don’t have to be powerful and perfect.  We don’t have to be our best self now.  We need to be who we are, strive to love, and give and receive grace.  In other words, we simply need to be God’s children, Jesus’ brothers and sisters.

Look at Mary and Elizabeth.  Mary was not a super human.  There was no immaculate conception.  The virgin birth refers to Jesus’ birth.  The Immaculate Conception refers to Mary’s conception.  Church theologians became obsessed with sin and sin management and had to come up with a way that during the nine months Jesus in Mary’s womb, he wasn’t stained by original sin passed on to him through her.  Kinda silly, right.  Theologians had invented the doctrine of original sin, the stain of which passes to all humans through the act of conception, and other theologians were actually worried that Jesus would be sinful, being born of a woman’s womb, the stain passed on to him.  So, they invented the doctrine of the immaculate conception, that Mary, through the grace of Jesus, was conceived without the stain of original sin:  a clean conception.  That way, no sin passed to Jesus through Mary’s womb.

How ridiculous!  They went well beyond scripture in order to manage sin, and missed the point of Jesus’ incarnation in the first place.  Mary was flawed, just like every other human ever.  Jesus was pleased to be born of a regular, normal woman, with a regular, normal womb.  Another woman, a regular normal woman, was the first person whom the Holy Spirit granted knowledge of Jesus.  As most stories or important events would have gone, it should have been the men-folk, the important members of society, who knew about Jesus through divine messenger, but God doesn’t look at importance the way we do.  Who needed to know about Jesus?  Important people?  No.  His mom, his dad, and his cousin needed to know about Jesus, his cousin who would, 30 years later, prepare for his ministry through baptism and leading people to repentance.

The important people in our world didn’t need to know that God had become human and was living among us, at least not until Jesus began his ministry.  God didn’t need that kind of fame and notoriety.  Just like every other baby born, the little boy Jesus didn’t need fame and notoriety.  He didn’t need to be recognized as great.  He needed to be known as beloved son by his parents.  That was the identity that truly mattered.

God has a way of constantly challenging our notions of what is important.  Riches, power, pride:  these things don’t matter.  In fact they can often be harmful, otherwise God would not send the rich away empty, bring down the powerful, and scatter the proud.  Far from being mean, however, God is reversing these fortunes because, we aren’t blessed by pride, riches, and power beyond our needs.

Consider the rich man who asked Jesus what he needed to do to inherit eternal life.  He was super rich and he was empty.  He knew his wealth wasn’t supplying what we truly wanted.  He knew something was missing.  Unfortunately, his attachment to his wealth kept him bound to his possessions, so when he refused to give away what he had and give to the poor, Jesus sent him away empty…wealthy, but empty.

We’re not blessed through riches and power beyond our needs.  We’re blessed through having enough, through loving, and through being loved.  We’ll still find ourselves jealous of those who have more stuff than we do, who seem to have it easier than we do, such is our nature, always wanting more power over the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.  But alas, the power to master our fortunes is often the path to the Dark Side, and not only in a galaxy far, far away.  Seeking the power to master our fortunes is not the way of Jesus.

Truth, love, grace, these were the powers of Jesus.  A constant giving away of power, giving away truth, giving love, giving grace, these were Jesus’ greatest powers.  Jesus, being God, did have the power truly to master his fortune.  He had power over slings, arrows, and even the cross, and yet he gave away that power and let his fortune rest squarely in the hands of humanity.

Even as a baby, God let his fortune rest in the womb and then the arms of a regular young woman named Mary.  God trusted his power and his life with her.  How beloved we are of God.  He still trusts us.  He trusts us each with the power he has given us, and he trusts us to give that power away, trusts us to seek his glory, not our own.  Rather than forcing us to do his will, God trusts us give away truth.  God trusts us to give love.  God trusts us to give grace.  It’s neither showy nor powerful as the world counts power, nor as the dark side counts power, but truth, love, and grace are the powers of Jesus, the powers with which he trusts us, his beloved.  Amen.

You Were Serious About That?

Brad Sullivan

3 Advent, Year C

December 13, 2015

Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

Luke 3:7-18

You Were Serious About That?

Last Friday at a Lions meeting, we heard a presentation from Jason Coleman who has begun a new farm here in Bay City called Moonbow Farms.  In college, he got a degree in sustainable farming which seeks to combine best practices for financial, communal, and environmental sustainability.  He talked about making a living at farming to provide for his family and doing so in a way that also brought the most benefit to the surrounding community and to the surrounding environment.  One thing in particular he said about sustainable agriculture stuck with me.  He said a person could manage his farm in a way to earn 50 or $100,000 more, but that he didn’t really need it.  So instead, his model is to spend more on his workers and on his methods.  He won’t make as much money as he could, so that the community around him benefits more. 

Thinking back on that now, I see that is a man who has taken to heart John’s teaching about bearing fruits worthy of repentance.  I don’t know that John’s words were actually on his mind, but he embodied exactly what John was talking about:  nothing heroic, just a regular guy doing his best for his family and looking out for those around him at the same time.

Notice that in Luke’s Gospel, John was not talking to religious leaders; he was talking to everyone when he said, “You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”  Everyone is called to bear fruit worthy of repentance.  Then, when the people ask what to do, John gives very simple tasks.

Don’t keep more than you need…whether food, money, clothing, whatever it is, give to others your excess.  Don’t cheat people.  Be honest in your business dealings, and don’t strive to get more than you need.  You may be able to earn tens of thousands more, but don’t do so.  Rather, give a better wage to your workers.  Be satisfied with what you have and don’t strive, at the expense of others, to get more than you need or have.

That’s kinda simple, and it leads to a joyful world and way of life.  I’d argue that if the highest paid people in our country chose to earn less and chose to have their lower paid employees earn more, we’d have less violence, anger, and division in our country than we do.  There would be more rejoicing.  That’s the Kingdom of God, the way of life which John the Baptist proclaimed would bear fruit worthy of repentance, the way of life which prepares the way for Jesus.

Unfortunately for most folks, it is also a way of life that is frightfully difficult.  If only John had demanded something herculean, some enormous quest or task.  Then we could have a goal and come up with ways of achieving that goal, and we could be proud of ourselves for having accomplished some awesome task.  That’s probably what his hearers were expecting.  Then, they heard they were simply supposed to live their lives, caring for others more and living with less.  That’s actually harder than a quest.

Giving up what we don’t need and being content with what we have makes us place our faith in God rather than our efforts and our stuff.  Giving up what we don’t need and being content with what we have makes us give up some of our power and control, not an easy task being that behind humanity’s fall in the Garden of Eden was a desire for power and control.  John calls us to one of the most difficult quests we could have:  “give up power and control and place your faith in God, oh and by the way,” John said, “this will be made apparent not in your religious life, but in your economic life.”

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” (James 1:27)  We can’t separate our economic life from our commitment to Jesus and his Gospel.  As Jesus taught in Luke 12, “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Luke 12:34)  A good question we could ask ourselves is, “am I spending my money the way Jesus would want it spent?”

On the other side of this coin, of course, both John and Jesus are telling their listeners to live lives of great joy.  If you believe in what John said, if you believe in what Jesus taught, there is great joy in giving up our stuff for the sake of those who don’t have enough.  “Rejoice in the Lord always,” Paul wrote in his letter to the Philippians, “again I will say, rejoice!”  Following John’s way of preparing for Jesus is not intended to leave us sad, morose, or resentful.  John’s way is meant to leave us with great joy.

“Trust me,” Jesus tells us in Luke 9:24, “if you truly want to live a life of joy and peace, then you need to give up control of your life; give your life away, and you will find your life in me.”  That’s the paradox of the Gospel, but a paradox that deep down, I believe we all know to be true.  Give away what you have for the sake of those who don’t have enough.  This may not seem fair, some of our hearts would tell us, but Jesus didn’t care about fairness, he cared about people.  Remember the parable of the workers in the vineyard who all got paid for a full day’s work, even those who only worked an hour?  Regardless of only being able to work an hour, those workers still needed a full day’s wage to have enough to put food on the table.  That’s life in God’s kingdom, where we give up fairness and control for the sake of people having enough.

In the U.S. we have about 5% of the world’s population, yet we use about 1/3 of the world’s resources.  This hurts everyone, not only those without, but those who have in abundance.  Shane Claiborne wrote in Red Letter Revolution,

Surplus not only hurts the poor but also those who are rich.  In the Gospels, it’s interesting that the rich man starts by asking Jesus about how to find life.  If you look at the richest corners of the world, they have the highest rates of loneliness, suicide, and depression.

            Salvation, for many, comes by giving their stuff away.  This is not what they must do to earn salvation.  Giving away their stuff, bringing enough to others and being released from the hold their possessions have on them does not earn salvation; it is salvation.  It’s life in Jesus’ kingdom.  That’s why, when John was asked how people are supposed to prepare for Jesus’ coming, he told them to stop putting their trust in their money and their things.  Stop striving to get more than you need.  Give away what you don’t need so that others may have enough.

Realize also, we’re going to fall short of John’s command.  Our stuff, our notions of fairness, our desires for more, and our fears of not being able to do without, can have a tight hold on us.  We keep striving.  We take John seriously; we assume he really did mean it, that we really do prepare ourselves for Jesus by having less and giving more.

Then, we lay our lives at the feet of Jesus’ grace.  Keep striving, keep failing, and let not our failures turn us away from Jesus.  If we feel shamed by John’s words, then we definitely need to place ourselves square into Jesus’ grace.  Remember Jesus prays, “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they are doing.”  We place ourselves in Jesus’ grace and then we let Jesus’ grace transform our hearts.

Don’t keep more than you need…whether food, money, clothing, whatever it is, give to others your excess.  The grace of Jesus.  Don’t cheat people.  Be honest in your business dealings, and don’t strive to get more than you need.  The grace of Jesus.  You may be able to earn tens of thousands more, but don’t do so.  Rather, give a better wage to your workers.  Be satisfied with what you have and don’t strive, at the expense of others, to get more than you need or have.  The grace of Jesus.

As Lutheran pastor, Nadia Bolz-Weber wrote about the repentance and the grace of Jesus:

This is it.  This is the life we get here on earth.  We get to give away what we receive.  We get to believe in each other.  We get to forgive and be forgiven.  We get to love imperfectly. And we never know what effect it will have for years to come.  And all of it…all of it is completely worth it. – Nadia Bolz-Weber, Accidental Saints

Amen.

Repentance: Cleaning House, Fighting Terrorism

Brad Sullivan

2 Advent, Year C

December 6, 2015

Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

Baruch 5:1-9

Luke 3:1-6

Repentance:  Cleaning House, Fighting Terrorism

It’s the second Sunday of Advent, as we prepare for Christmas.  We have 19 days to go until the big event.  Are any of y’all tired yet?  Tired from all of the busyness going on in December, the shopping, the decorating, the parties, and burning the candle at both ends?  Are y’all also tired of hearing about mass shootings and tired of living in fear?  I am.  I’m tired of the violence, the heartache, and of wondering if such a shooting will happen here.

Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God.  These words we heard from Baruch this morning are words of comfort during fearful times.  They remind me of the God we worship, that God has not abandoned us.  God is constantly calling us to take off the garment of our sorrow and affliction and to put on forever the beauty of the glory from God.  The words of Baruch give us assurance that God is ultimately in control, that God will care for us forever in the beauty of his glory.  That is the God whom we worship, God who is intimately connected with our world and with our lives.  God knows the pain of those killed, because he was killed, crucified by all of humanity.  God knows the pain of those whose family members were killed, because he watched as humanity killed Jesus, even as Jesus prayed, “Father forgive them.”  Such is the God whom we worship.

Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God.  These words remind us who God is and these words comfort us, but these words are also more than words of comfort, they are words of action.  Taking off the garment of our sorrow and affliction is not simply ignoring problems or to having a warm feeling in our hearts that all is well when all is not well.  Baruch’s words call us to action, and Baruch’s words call us up short.  They remind us of how far our lives and our society are from living the beauty of the glory of God.

This is not a time for shame or to think we’re terrible.  We’re supposed to be called up short by these words.  We’re supposed to have our hearts burn within us, to examine our lives, and to make a turn toward God.  Let’s face it, there are plenty of ways each of us live that are not of God.  During Advent, we’re reminded that we’re preparing for Jesus’ coming.

When John came to prepare the way for Jesus and to proclaim his coming, he did so with a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  It’s rather like cleaning your house before guests arrive.  You make it look nicer, and you also strive to keep it that way.  It’s a new beginning. 

What do you get rid of when you’re cleaning house?  The old stuff that sits in a drawer and hasn’t really been used in years?  Things kept for sentimental reasons but which someone else could use and which may be keeping you too much in the past?  Excess and clutter?

Do you reorder where things are when you clean house, making things flow better and allowing an easier time and way of living?  Do you get rid of bad habits when you clean house, choosing to keep things better so life is less hectic, more calm and serene?

That’s what we’re called to do in our lives during the season of Advent:  de-clutter, let go, end bad habits, live more simply, follow after God and God’s ways.  For God will lead Israel with joy, in the light of his glory, with the mercy and righteousness that come from him. (Baruch 5:9)  Such are God’s ways.

We’re not supposed to live in fear.  Such is not the way of God.  We’re not supposed to be exhausted all the time.  Such is not the way of God.  In Isaiah 55:2, God asks, “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?”  We spend so much time and money on frivolous things we don’t need, and then we end up having to de-clutter our homes to get rid of all of our excess stuff.  If ever we’ve had to de-clutter, then we officially have more than we need, and we have officially been spending our money for that which is not bread and laboring for that which does not satisfy.

As we learn in Genesis 1 and 2, people are our true delight, and companionship is what we truly need.  Spending time with people costs surprisingly little money.  Fewer things.  More time with people.  Less time working so we can have more things.  More time spent enjoying what we have and the people in our lives.  That is what Advent is calling us to.  Such a way could certainly help us to be less exhausted.

I don’t know if living more simply with less time striving for things and more time spent with people can make a difference in the violence of our world and the mass shootings we keep suffering, but I believe it can.  I know that the more discontent there is in a society, the more violence there is in that society as well.  The more exhaustion we feel and the greater focus we have on things rather than people, the more lost we are, the more disconnected we are from one another, and the easier it is to hurt one another. 

This applies even to terrorism, because ideologies are also things.  Radical Islamists have forgotten Genesis 1 and 2, have forgotten that people were made to be each others’ companions, that we were made to find our true humanity in each other.  Radical Islamists have forgotten love of people and exchanged that for love of ideology.  They’ve traded the glory of God for an idol, a thing made in the image of God, an ideology held so strongly that they destroy God’s beloved children. 

I realize it is a bit lofty to think that our Advent repentances are going to change radical Islamists.  Then again, it would have been a bit lofty to think that one man’s life, a man who was crucified by Rome as a rogue and an Israeli heretic, would change the world, but Jesus certainly did change the world.  We may be small in number, but Jesus dwells within us.  Believing in Jesus and following in his ways, like ripples in a pond, our lives can change the world. 

Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God.  In Advent, we are called to repent of the ways that we strive for ever more money and things, and to strive instead for love of people.  We’re called to de-clutter our lives so we are not so exhausted, and to spend instead time uniting to God and to people.  Such a repentance can change the world.  Such light will shine and spread, turning people’s hearts away from things and ideologies, and toward love of God and people.  Such is the God that we follow, whose kingdom is like a mustard seed.  It starts as a small seed, but it grows into a large tree.  Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God.  Amen.

A World Alight With the Presence of Jesus

Brad Sullivan

1 Advent, Year C

November 22, 2015

Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

Psalm 25:1-9

Luke 21:25-36

A World Alight With the Presence of Jesus

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving.  Ours was great, up in Austin with lots of family at my brother and sister-in-law’s house.  As my sister-in-law, Darlene, said, “It was perfect except that Dad wasn’t there.”  There were some pangs of sadness here and there, but mostly it was very joyful.  Joy combined with some sadness here and there is fairly descriptive of the Advent season.  Advent is the beginning of our church year, the time of preparation for Jesus’ coming.  So, it is a joyful time, waiting with hopeful expectation for Jesus’ return.  While Advent happens just before Christmas, we’re not really preparing for Jesus’ birth.  We’re preparing for his coming again. 

We wait with joy for his coming again.  The same Jesus who welcomed sinners, cared for the orphan and widow, and forgave rather than condemned, that is the same Jesus who is going to return.  So we wait with joy. 

At the same time, Jesus points out that the time before his return, what we like to call the end times, won’t exactly be a cake walk.  “People will faint with fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world.”  Powers in the heavens will be shaken, the Sun, Moon, and stars, distress among the nations.  This is a whole world, cosmic happening, Jesus is talking about.  It sounds kind of frightening and foreboding. 

Then again, we get frightening and foreboding.  Distress among the nations, we know that too well.  People fainting with fear and foreboding, we know that too.  ISIS.  Terrorism.  Christians shooting theaters, schools, and pregnancy centers.  Terrorism again.  Wars.  Rumors of wars.  As I said last week, we live in a very fearful time. 

The season of Advent is a season of joyful preparation, but not one in which we deny these fearful times.  Jesus didn’t deny them.  Instead, we walk through these fearful times with our heads high.  “When you see these things begin to take place,” Jesus said, “look up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”  In the ultimate end times, we’re told not to give in to fear and foreboding, but lift up our heads with hope because Jesus is drawing near.

We don’t know if the particular time of fear and foreboding in which we are living right now is the time of fear and foreboding, is the end time, but we are certainly living in an end time.  Ways of life are ending as new ways are coming about.  The world many of us grew up in is ending as the world that will be is coming about.  In those days, Jesus said, lift up your heads.  Show the light of Jesus.  Stand up and raise your heads because your redemption is drawing near. 

Lots of folks like to look at these passages and seek to induce fear with them.  We live in the end times.  Be afraid.  Oooohh.  It’s like some people have turned Jesus into the Bogeyman.  Be afraid, Jesus is coming.  That’s not really the lesson, is it?  We already know fear and foreboding. 

The real lesson in this passage is redemption, joy, and lifting up our heads during the bad times.  “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life,” Jesus said.  Make sure your hearts are not weighed down with worry.  Do not let your hearts be weighed down with fear and foreboding.  Lift up your heads.  Be joyful.  In times of darkness, be the light of Jesus in what you do, in what you say, in what you believe. 

Now, I’m about to seemingly do a 180, but I’m really not.  Jesus did say that the fear and foreboding came not only from what was, but from what was coming.  The fear and foreboding was because Jesus was coming.  That doesn’t make him the Bogeyman. 

What is coming is what we prayed about in Psalm 25.  “Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation.”  “Let none who look to you be put to shame; let the treacherous be disappointed in their schemes.”  Ok, fear and foreboding for the treacherous.  “Let me not be humiliated, nor let my enemies triumph over me.”  Ok, fear and foreboding for your enemies (who might be praying the same thing about you). 

What’s coming in Psalm 25?  “Gracious and upright is the LORD; therefore he teaches sinners in his way.”  That’s what’s coming.  God does not delight in destruction, in the death of sinners.  “He guides the humble in doing right and teaches his way to the lowly.”  (Psalm 25:8)  Admittedly for some, this won’t be good news.  Some don’t want to be guided.  Some don’t want to do what is right, don’t want to follow in God’s way.  Some don’t want to be lowly enough to be guided.  For them, Jesus’ coming may not be good news.  Jesus was never overly pleased with those who placed themselves as high above others and perverted justice and mercy.  So, for some, his coming won’t be good news.

In other words, Psalm 25 is very good news, except for those who choose for it not to be.  Advent, then, is for us to proclaim and live that good news.  There is a better way than the violence, fear, and foreboding that we know too well.  There is the world alight with Jesus’ presence.  “Do not be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.”  If you are, you won’t notice Jesus everywhere around you. 

“Be alert at all times,” Jesus said, “praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”

Strength to stand before the Son of Man is about acknowledging our sinfulness, and letting God teach us in his ways.  God’s ways are like Jesus’ ways to welcome sinners, to care for the orphan and widow, and to forgive rather than condemn.  That is going on all around us.  Jesus is here, all around us.  Strength to stand before the Son of Man means we are aware of Jesus around us and that we are strong in the ways of the Son of Man.  That is what Advent is about, taking time to open our hearts and eyes to a world alight with Jesus’ presence, even amidst dark times of fear and foreboding. 

During dark times of fear and foreboding, Jesus says, “don’t worry, for I am coming.”  During dark times of fear and foreboding, don’t worry, because in truth, Jesus is already here.  Amen.

Risk & Compassion: Demands of Jesus' Kingdom

Brad Sullivan

Proper 29, Year B

November 22, 2015

Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

John 18:33-37

Risk & Compassion:  Demands of Jesus’ Kingdom

Last week, Lynette, our senior warden, shared with me a video of a testimony given by Travis Tinnin.  Travis just passed away a couple of days ago.  Some of y’all know him.  He grew up here in Bay City and had a wife and two-year-old twin boys.  Travis had had complications at birth and wasn’t expected to live, but he did.  Then he wasn’t expected to walk, but he did.  He lived with the cancer for longer than expected, and had children he wasn’t supposed to be able to have, and in his testimony, given about 4 years ago, he talked about the trust he has in Jesus.  He said:

Trust is agreeing to deal with someone else’s choices, for better or worse.  It’s not that I trust you to catch me.  It’s that I’m willing to fall if you don’t.  In the same way, I trust God with my life.  I don’t trust that he’ll heal me.  I trust that he’ll use me to fulfill his perfect will.       

-          Travis Tinnin

I think it’s safe to say, Travis trusted Jesus as his king, and now knows him fully as his king. 

We live in a very fearful time.  We are not currently persecuted for being Christians here in America, but after the attacks in France last weekend, and the potential of thousands of Syrian refugees coming into our country, the possibility of persecution seems to some like a potential reality.  What if enough Muslims come here that they do take over and do change our laws?  What if enough come that terrorists come too, and we actually start being killed for being Christian (or simply not the correct` terroristic brand of Muslim)?  These are questions which folks have been wondering about and wrestling with to some degree or another since September 11, 2001.

Some folks are pretty adamant that such killings and persecution will happen and want all Muslims to go.  Others don’t voice these questions, possibly having them only in the deepest places of their hearts.  Many are somewhere in between, wondering, “What is right?”  Wrestling with “What do we do?”  Many don’t want to brand all Muslims as terrorists, don’t want to assume that all Muslims seek to subjugate our population under Muslim rule, and yet many also wonder, can we risk not assuming the worst.

We live in a very fearful time.  The people of Israel, living in the first century also lived in a very fearful time.  They faced potential and often actual persecution by Rome, even as they got to live with some measure of autonomy.  They were afraid that their nation would be destroyed by Rome, as eventually it was.  They were afraid that they would have to choose to abandon their faith or abandon their lives. 

In such a fearful time, Jesus stood before the Roman governor, Pilate, as Pilate asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”  If Jesus said “Yes,” then he was an insurrectionist, seeking to take the throne from Herod.  If he said “No,” then he’d have denied who he was.  Further, people had been saying that Jesus was the king, so if the chief priests and the Pharisees didn’t turn Jesus over to Pilate, then could have been seen as complicit in his insurrection, and they knew Rome wouldn’t have that.  Finally, Jesus’ disciples knew that if they were caught with Jesus, then they too would likely have been killed as fellow insurrectionists and blasphemers.  It’s easy to look back and think, “What cowards,” as they ran away and had Jesus killed, but the reality is, they were living in a very fearful time.

So too with us, we seem rather quick nowadays to label others as “coward” or “naïve”, as “heartless” or “brainless”.  We want to follow Jesus as our king, and we’re also afraid.  When some say that we should allow Syrian refugees or any refugees into America, others are frightened by that, even just by hearing it.  Of course they are.  We live in a very fearful time.  When others hear folks say that we can’t let Syrian refugees in, they blast those folks, saying that they are not living as disciples of Jesus.  While I personally think the Gospel does tell us to let the refugees come in, I also think we live in a very fearful time, and we’d be better off having compassion and love for each other as we talk about these different possibilities.  I think we’d be better off honoring each others’ fears and honoring each others’ desires to live out the Gospel of Jesus.

 

 “Love one another,” Jesus commands in John 13.  Love one another, not just those who are perfect or right.  Love one another.  Paul sums up Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness in Colossians 3, writing, “Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”  The Gospel demands that we have compassion and love for one another.

The Gospel also demands that we risk.  In John 15, Jesus says, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”  Again, in Mark 8, Jesus tells his disciples, “Those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”  Jesus guarantees that we will face persecution because of our faith.  Jesus guarantees that living out his Gospel will be risky.  To live out Jesus’ Gospel is to risk our good name, our fortunes, our family and friends’ thoughts of us, our physical well-being, and even our lives. 

Love one another, and risk for the sake of the Gospel are some of the truths which Jesus spoke.  That’s one thing Jesus came to do, to speak the truth.  In response to Pilate asking Jesus if he was a king, Jesus said, “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” 

Love one another, and risk for the sake of the Gospel, Jesus’ voice tells us.  Jesus’ voice tells us not to be afraid.  Jesus’ voice tells us tells us to confess him as God son both in what we say and in what we do.  Jesus’ voice also tells us to forgive, just as he forgave those who fell into fear, forgot their love, and denied him.  Jesus voice tells us to feed his sheep, and with the risk involved, Jesus’ voice also tells us that he goes to prepare a place for us in his Father’s house.

That’s because in our Baptism, we have already died.  We’ve shared in Jesus’ death, and we therefore share in his resurrection.  That is why Jesus tells us “be not afraid,” because amidst all the kingdoms of the earth, the only Kingdom that really matters is Jesus’ kingdom.  His kingdom is not from here, but his kingdom is lived out here.  Whenever we love one another, Jesus’ kingdom is lived out here.  Whenever we risk for the sake of the Gospel, whenever we care for the poor, the needy, the homeless, even the refugee, Jesus’ kingdom is lived out here. 

In Jesus’ kingdom, we don’t live every man for himself.  In Jesus’ kingdom, we care for each other in radical ways.  In Jesus’ kingdom, we know we can risk not only because we share in his death and resurrection, but also because in Jesus’ kingdom, we care for one another as Jesus cared for his disciples and asked them to care for him.  As Jesus was dying on the cross, he told the disciple whom he loved, “My mom is now your mom.  Take care of her for me.”  Jesus knew that he could risk death because he knew that disciple would care for his mom after he was gone.  That disciple took her into his home and cared for her as for his own mom.  “Live the way of my kingdom,” Jesus says, “trust in me, and be not afraid.” 

We live in a very fearful time, and in this fearful time, Jesus is still telling us, “Be not afraid.”  “Don’t trust that I will catch you.  Be willing to fall if I don’t.  Don’t trust me to protect me from every harm.  Trust me to use you to fulfill my perfect will.”  In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Be Not Afraid

"Be not afraid." "Love your enemy." "you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt"

I've seen all this and more, blasting the governors who are refusing Syrian refugees, and I'd like to pause in the well-intentioned vitriol (and it is well-intentioned) to remember that our civic leaders have a difficult job, with the well-being not only of themselves, but of thousands or millions as their concern.

While I am for taking in refugees, and my initial response to the governors was less than empathetic, I am not going to blast them for trying to keep their people safe. I will say I disagree, but it is not my decision to make. I don't have to wear that crown, and I don't have that responsibility on my shoulders.

Let's look at a couple other bits of scripture:

"Remind them to be subject to rulers and authorities, to be obedient, to be ready for every good work, to speak evil of no one, to avoid quarreling, to be gentle, and to show every courtesy to everyone." - Titus 3:1-2

"Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them."

Accepting the rules of the authorities does not apply in all cases. Easy, sentence-long answers rarely do. We'd do well to remember, however, that there aren't easy answers to these problems.

Our authorities will make good decisions and poor decisions. We will be outraged by some of their decisions. We will do well, as we voice our opposition to their decisions, to do so with the spirit of humility and compassion.

As a follower of Jesus, I believe he tells me to risk my life for the sake of others. I don't hear him telling me, however, to risk other people's lives, forcing them to live how I believe he wants me to live. When governmental decisions go against my desire to risk for the sake of God's kingdom, I must ask myself, "am I forcing God's kingdom on others?" That is something I don't believe Jesus wants his followers to do.

"The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such there is no law." (Galatians 5:22-23)

Islands

Below is a sermon which my wife, the Rev. Kristin Sullivan, gave at St. Mark's last Sunday while I was away at a songwriting workshop.

I love the movie About a Boy--it is about a self professed bachelor whose life is turned upside-down by a needy kid.  In the beginning of the movie there is a great scene where he talks about how he lives his life:

All men are islands. And what's more, this is the time to be one. This is an island age. A hundred years ago, for example, you had to depend on other people. No one had TV or CDs or DVDs or home espresso makers. As a matter of fact they didn't have anything cool. Whereas now you can make yourself a little island paradise. With the right supplies, and more importantly the right attitude, you can become sun-drenched, tropical, a magnet for young Swedish tourists.

He is reacting to a famous meditation by the poet John Donne who wisely observed that No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.

This idea that we can be island unto ourselves is certainly not new but it has become prevalent in our culture.  We think that we can be self sufficient.  That we can take care of ourselves and that we don’t need anyone else.  We isolate ourselves within our communities and we close ourselves off to one another.  How often we neglect our community life.  It is so easy to do.  We sleep in one Sunday, skip a bible Study, don’t check in with our Christian brothers and sisters and pretty soon we have gotten out of the habit.  It is that easy.  There are a lot of reasons why people stop coming to church. But for many people I think that the prevailing reason is simply getting out of the habit.  We think that we can go it alone.  

As humans we are made to be in connection and relationship to one another.  Our brains are built to connect to other people.  Amy Banks, who is a expert in neuroscience says this: “neuroscience is confirming our entire autonomic nervous system wants us to connect with other human beings....There have been studies that look at emotions in human beings such as disgust, shame, happiness, where the exact same areas of the brain light up in the listener who is reading the feelings of the person talking.  We are, literally, hardwired to connect.”

Our life together is too important to get out of the habit of gathering together.  We cannot do this life in isolation--we cannot do this life of faith without one another.  We need to be prodded to be better people, we need to be encouraged and led and challenged by one another.  

This is what the Letter to the Hebrews is saying to us today. “Let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”

Let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds.  Here is the Christian life.  Y'all these are our marching orders.  Provoking one another to love and good deeds.  As followers of Jesus Christ we are called to be a supportive, loving and provoking community.  We have a great and generous God who calls us to go into the world in LOVE.  Not in hatred, not in anger, not timidly or half-heartedly but with gusto.  We need to look into ourselves and into our communities and think about how we are treating one another.  Because it starts with us.  It starts with the community of the faithful.  We have to have our house in order, we need to treat each other with respect and kindness.  And first and foremost we need to gather together.  We need to show up for one another because none of us can go it alone.

Within the Christian community we find a group of people who are just like us.  We are all sinners in need of redemption.  We are all travelers on the journey.  When we gather together we support one another.  We learn to be vulnerable, to trust that our prayers will be prayed, that our pain will be shared.  In this community we ought to know that we are loved no matter what and that we can do nothing to be cast away.  

This is the great difference between the church and any number of other organizations that we may belong to.  In the church we are loved and accepted no matter what.  No matter what.  Through our struggling and our pain, through our good days and our bad, in our joy and in our sorrow. There is nothing that can separate us from the love of God.  This is the glue that holds us together.   

  

This is the good news that brought us here and keeps us here.  This is the good news that we need to go out and share with the world. 

I spent Friday night and most of the day yesterday at an evangelism workshop with a group of about 20 church leaders.  Mary Parmer, who was the leader for the weekend began the day yesterday by going around the room and asking everyone to share briefly where they grew up, what their church background was and how they had come to be a part of their current church.  The stories of religious upbringing varied--everything from no church background to cradle Episcopalians and everything in between.  The stories also varied on how they had ended up at the church--but several themes emerged out of all the stories--People were personally invited to come to church, and when they got there they were welcomed.  

Each of us has a story about how we got here.  For some it has twists and turns, for some it is pretty straight forward.  But our stories are important.  They make us who we are.  And they are something that we need to share with one another and with those outside our community.  What makes your faith important to you?  Why do you keep coming back?  These are the stories that we need to be telling.  

The people of God are always a people who are gathered Together.  We cannot do this by ourselves.  We need one another.  We need to be able to be vulnerable, to trust in the community, and to love one another as Christ loved us.  Provoke one another to love and good deeds.  

Amen.

"Give, Give!" (yes, it's sarcastic)

Brad Sullivan

Proper 27, Year B

November 8, 2015

Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

Mark 12:38-44

“Give, give!  Give, give!  Give, give!  Give, give, give, give!”  That was a song that a comedy group in Houston called “Radio Music Theater” used to sing.  They were a group of three comedians who wrote and starred in plays in which they all played multiple characters, and the “give give song” was from a collection of their shows in which three of the characters were Televangelist Jiffy Dillard and his faithful cohort of heartstring pulling, Bible thumping profiteers. 

They didn’t talk much about the grace of Jesus, mostly just about “wicked, wicked sin,” and the need of people to give so that with the power of Jesus, Jiffy Dillard could fight the wicked, wicked sin. 

Give.  Give till it hurts.  Give ‘cause God needs your money.  Give because you’ve got the wicked, wicked sin, and if you give, then we can minister, and God will love you more…he’ll dislike you less.  We’ve heard it all before, haven’t we?  Truth be told, Jewish folks living a couple of millennia before us had heard it all before too.

“The widow’s mite”, or “the widow’s offering” – that’s the popular title given to our Gospel story today, and we all know what I’m supposed to say about this story.  The widow had very little and yet she still gave her two copper coins (all that she had to live on).  She gave them to the treasury, to the temple.  Realizing that what she gave was a drop in a lake considering the financial burden of the temple, Jesus says she gave more than those wealthy folks who gave large sums of money.  So, I’m supposed to raise her up as an example of faith in God and encourage everyone here to contribute to our common life here at St. Mark’s; even if you only have a little bit, give what little you have, show how faithful you are, and God can do great things with it.  He’ll probably also like you a little better.

I think such an interpretation of today’s Gospel passage, minus the part about God liking you better if you give, such an interpretation certainly has merit to it, but I don’t think that is the lesson Jesus was teaching.  He had just blasted the Scribes for their long robes and prayers, making sure they looked good and righteous in front of everybody, and Jesus had blasted them for devouring widows’ houses. 

We don’t know exactly what that means, but we can surmise that they were pulling a bit of a Jiffy Dillard on folks, calling on everyone to “give, give” so that they could fight the wicked, wicked sin.  In ancient Israel, the poor didn’t have to give; they could if they wanted to out of their love of God and their love of the religion.  The scribes, however, look like they were demanding, cajoling, enticing as much money out of the widows as they could.  “God needs it, guys, you better give.”

So Jesus is calling the scribes hypocrites.  They were teaching the people, “you’ve got to give (so we can look really religious and God will be less angry with you)”, and they were forgetting the teachings of God in scripture.  God cares for the orphan and widow.  God doesn’t desire temple sacrifice.  Let justice role, defend the orphan and widow.  Let your sacrifice be a heart full of love for all people.

The religious leaders seem to have forgotten those teaching and were following the words of God that made themselves look important and needed in the eyes of the people.  They were forgetting the words of the prophets before them.  Care for my people, God said.  Care for my people; those are the sacrifices I want you to make.

So Jesus is teaching this, and pointing out how the scribes are missing the boat, and just after Jesus points out the fault in the scribes’ way, God highlights Jesus’ message by sending this poor widow to give all she had to live on for the sake of the temple.  How awesome is God at this point, sending the widow right then, saying to Jesus, “That’s a great lesson, Son, let me give you a little exclamation point on that!”

I’m guessing folks are wondering, “so are we supposed to give to the church or not?”  Well, we’re not “giving to the church,” as though it is something other than ourselves.  We’re not giving to someone else’s ministry.  We’re contributing to our common life here at St. Mark’s.  Should we contribute to our common life?  Well, if we want a building to come together and pray in, yeah. 

That’s not giving to God’s ministry as though it is separate from ourselves.  Deciding that we want a common life together and contributing to that life financially is a blessed thing and a wonderful way to be and to live together.  We pray with and for each other.  We share our faith.  We the joys of our lives and our sorrows together.  We share Jesus with one another. 

Does that mean we are supposed to contribute every last dime we have?  Well, I supposed if we all lived in the same house and shared cars and food, then sure, but we don’t.  Are we supposed to look at the widow in our Gospel story and feel like compared to her we are terrible, faithless people?  No.  I don’t think that’s the point of the story. 

We don’t function and live for the sake of our religion.  Our religion, the practices of our faith, the ways of the Episcopal church, function for our sake.  In pointing out the widow in the story today, Jesus is once again showing us God’s grace.  Contra all the Jiffy Dillards out there, God’s grace is not that if we give enough to make our religion rich and mighty then God will forgive us of our sins and dislike us a little less. 

God’s grace is that he loves us, period.  God’s grace is that he forgives us, period.  God knows we mess us.  God’s knows it’s hard to be human.  God knows we are bound by our sin, feeling shame and regret over the things we’ve done which have hurt people and hurt ourselves.  God’s grace is that he loves us, with all that crud, and he frees us from it, taking our sin, holding it for us, and saying, “you are beloved.”  God’s grace is that he cares for those we often forget to care about, and he then reminds us to care for those people as well. 

God does tell us to give, give.  Give, give the grace that you have received.  Give, give the love with which you are loved.  Give, give the forgiveness with which you have been forgiven.  Give, give the thoughtfulness, the care, and concern which God gives even and especially to those we often forget.  Amen. 

The Souls of the Righteous are In the Hand of God

Below is the sermon which my wife, The Rev. Kristin Sullivan, gave on All Saints' Sunday.  I was blessed to get to hear her words which brought tears to my eyes.

The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them.  In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died, and their departure was thought to be a disaster, and their going from us to be their destruction; but they are at peace.  For though in the sight of others they were punished, their hope is full of immortality. 

This is the beginning of the reading that we heard from the Wisdom of Solomon.  It is one of the reading that is recommended in our funeral service in the Episcopal church.  It speaks to the life with God that we will live after our earthly life has ended.  A life that is free from torment—a hope that is full of immortality. 

It is a wonderful reminder that in the midst of death there is always hope.  For the Jewish people death was thought to be an end.  A person simply ceased to exist, or else they existed in a sort of limbo, separated from people and from God.  But here in the beginning of the first century the idea began to be expressed that life did not end with death.  God holds us close even after we die.

The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God.  It is God who holds them.  Even though their life seems to have ended, they are protected.  They are at peace.  In Christian thought we have taken this even further.

In Jesus encounter with Martha after the death of Lazarus told her I am the resurrection and I am the life—those who believe in me will not die but live.  We are destined for life.  A life that is lived here on this earth and also a life that will be lived with God after we have died.  Our lives are a constant journey towards God.  An ever deepening relationship that does not end in death, rather it continues.  We continue to grow with God—God continues to refine us and purify us.

My favorite image of our journey with God is that of a sea shell.  One of those conk type shells that has a point on the top and spirals down into itself.  Our spiritual life is not a point a to point b endeavor.  Rather it is more like the sea shell.  We are continually spiraling deeper and deeper into God.  Down, down , down. Deeper and deeper, more and more connected with him.  While we are here on earth and after we die.

Today in the life of the Church we celebrate All Saint’s Day.  A day of both remembrance and celebration.  It is a day when we remember those who have gone before us.  The Saints of God who have given their lives to his service.  Who have sacrificed and served and have gone to be in the closer presence with God. 

What we often forget is that All Saints day is about all the saints.  The ones that receive the accolades and the ones who largely go unremembered.  It is about the friends we have lost, the family members who are no longer here, the heroic and the ordinary.  It is about the imperfect everyday saints. Those folks who lived normal lives—who messed up, who asked forgiveness, who lived lives that look like ours.

The ones who died way to young, who didn’t get to live long lives, but who lived lives that touched others none the less.  Lives that changed us and changed the world around us.  I have an app on my phone called time hop that shows me each day pictures and other things that I posted in years past on a particular day.  When I looked at my time hop yesterday the first entry, from last year, was a picture of two names that I had written on the labyrinth outside during the all souls day remembrance last year.  They were both of friends that I lost when I was in seminary.  Two young men who died way too young.  But two friends who touched my life for the better.  Whose lives are intertwined with mine forever.  

They were great saints to me—They might not have been to you—but to me they changed the way I looked at the world because they were in it.  Who are those great saints for you?  Who has touched your life and left it forever changed.  A parent, a friend, perhaps even a complete stranger.  Each year the list gets longer.  Most of the folks whose names we will read today have not have touched the lives of millions of people, but their effect in the lives of those they have touched is like ripples in the water.  They have changed our lives and because they were in our lives we will changed the lives of other people.  People that we no longer see, but who are no less a part of our lives.

The Saints change our lives.  They give us an example of how to live a life striving towards God. A life that changes other lives.  They remind us that we are striving towards holiness.  Towards a life better lived in connection to God.

As many of you know Brad’s father died in May of this past year—he is one of the saints who has been added to our list this year.  At some point this summer as we were saying our bedtime prayers Noah, our oldest son prayed for his granddad.  His younger brother piped in that Granddad was dead—In the way that only a five year old can do.  But without missing a beat Noah sagely said—Granddad is still alive with God. 

And so he is.  We gather around this altar today to celebrate the fact that we are are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses who are very much alive with God.    

Today is a day to remind ourselves that those who have gone before us may have left us, but God will never leave them.  They gather with him—and gather with us—constantly moving in and out of our lives.  As our funeral liturgy reminds us “For to your faithful people, O Lord, life is changed, not ended.” 

This day we remember that all the saints are gathered around us.  During the Eucharistic prayer Sue will be reading the names of the saints that have been submitted this year to remind us that when we gather at this table we are all one with Christ. Those who have gone before us, those who have yet to be born and us—we who tarry here on this earthly plain.  Striving after God.  Working out our own salvation with fear and trembling.  Marveling at God’s creation and taking care of God’s people. 

May all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.  Amen.