Kneeling to Jesus, to Freedom, to the Man Who Wouldn't Be King

Brad Sullivan

Proper 12, Year B

July 29, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

Ephesians 3:14-21

John 6:1-21

Kneeling to Jesus, to Freedom, to the Man Who Wouldn’t Be King

I was at a teacher’s party last week with Kristin, for the teachers at her school; spouses were invited, and we actually got to see each other, which was lovely.  We were meeting at one of their houses, and the Astros game was on, so as we were talking, we’d catch glances of the game, and unfortunately, the Astros were losing to the Texas Rangers.  So at one point, the host and I were watching the game for a few minutes, and he rather sheepishly admitted to me that he was, in fact, a Rangers fan, having lived in Dallas for many years, and was rather happy with the score. 

There was no problem, but there was a hint of a possibility of a problem.  Was it ok for him to admit that he was a Rangers fan?  Was I going to get upset and offended and think less of  him?  Did his identity as a Rangers fan somehow butt against and attack my identity as an Astros fan?  No, of course not.  Except for that passing split second when it did.  So deep is our need for identity and some feeling of power and control, that even people rooting for a different team in a game in which we’re not playing, can feel a little bit like an attack.

This idea of our desire for power and control was expressed very well in the Marvel superhero movie, The Avengers.  Simplifying the plot to bare bones, you’ve got Loki, the bad guy from another world, who wants to rule over a planet and be king of an entire people, so he chooses earth.  After causing a good amount of destruction, Loki has a crowd of people before him, and he tells them all to kneel before him.  Then he grins a little triumphantly and says,

Loki:    “Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It’s the unspoken truth of humanity that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for power.  For identity. You were made to be ruled.  In the end, you will always kneel.”

Captain America and Iron Man end up saving the day in that scene, but there is so much truth in that little speech and dialogue.  Our mad scramble for power, for identity.  We want to belong, and that belonging ties in with our identity.  That’s why you have people fighting with each other and getting serious, even angry and violent in speech and action over things like sports teams. 

We also desire power over the changes and chances of this life.  Millenia of war exhibit our desire for power and how we seek power over others sometimes for protection, for identity, for one group’s wrong ideology or way of life.  We do desire power over situations we don’t like or decisions with which we disagree, and in our desire to make the situation or outcome be what we want, we often respond to others with verbal and sometimes even physical violence. 

That’s what Loki did.  Then, at the end of his little speech, as Loki says, “you will always kneel,” a man stands up and says,

German Man:  “Not to men like you.

Loki:    “There are no men like me.” (Loki responds.)

German Man:  “There are always men like you.”

There are always people like Loki who seek power over others.  There are always people like Loki who seek to subjugate people or situations to their wills or desires.  If we look deep inside, those people like Loki are all of us.  We all desire power over the changes and chances of this life, and we all, in our less that wonderful moments, end up using power to get what we want in ways that cause harm or subjugate others to our wills.

Paradoxically, as much as we desire power, Loki was right that we also seek subjugation.  Most of us want people in governmental authority over us, and most of us don’t want those jobs.  There are areas in which we want power, and there are areas where we’d rather be subjugated to someone else’s power, a good ruler, and to let that person take over responsibility.

There is peace in surrender.  There is the peace of child who doesn’t have the weight of ruling over the household.  Think of Israel demanding of God a king to rule over them.  God warned them, “he is going to subjugate you under his will,” and the people responded, “that’s fine, just so long as we can have a king to rule over us.”

During Jesus’ day, Israel had a puppet king ruling over them, while Rome was actually in charge.  They didn’t like this king; things were not good under his rule or under the rule of Rome, and when people kept seeing Jesus’ power to heal, to perform miraculous works, they decided he should be king.  “When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.”

Jesus would not be the ruler over us in any kind of system of power and authority of this world. 

Bishop Doyle writes about Jesus’ rejection of the power and violence of the world in his book, The Jesus Heist.  He writes, “Jesus makes clear that violence is to be met with peace and nonviolence.”  “The way of the society of the friends of Jesus [is to] avail themselves of different weapons [than the weapons of this world]:  presence, conversation, and humility.”  That’s what Jesus did with people.  He had dinner with them.  He talked with people.  He was with them in their lives, joys, and struggles.  In Jesus, Bishop Doyle writes we are freed from the systems of violence and domination in this world, through unity with Jesus and conversion in him.

There is a paradox of surrendering to Jesus.  All power and authority is his, and he will not use that power and authority to subjugate us.  Jesus is not going to force and control us.  Surrender to Jesus’ power and authority is surrender to freedom in Jesus.

Freedom to love without fear.  Freedom to love others and live out the image of God in which we were made.  Freedom to let go our anger and our hurt which lead us to want control over situations and control over others:  in the board room, in our homes, at work, on the freeway.  We have freedom in Jesus to let go of our desires for control and realize, it’s ok to forsake the anger, and fear, and hurt within us, and to live love instead.

There is freedom in Jesus to accept the changes and chances of the life.  Freedom from the need for fear and violence to keep us safe and secure.  When a loving parent tucks a child in to bed at night, sometimes laying down with them as they drift off to sleep, giving them a blessing on their forehead, fears and worries slip away, and the child rests secure, knowing that all is well.  Mommy and Daddy are there.

Our surrender to Jesus is like that child with a loving parent.  In Jesus, we can rest secure and at peace, even with the changes and chances of this life. 

Back to Loki in his mad quest for power, he was right that we will always kneel to something.  Kneeling to Jesus, we kneel to one with all power and authority who chooses not to rule over us through his power and chooses not to force us to do anything at all.  Instead, we bow to kneel to Jesus, and he frees us to live and love without fear. 

As Paul wrote, “I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.”

Paul goes on to pray that we may have some comprehension of the vastness of the love of Jesus, so that as we kneel to him, we may be filled with the full peace and love of God, resting secure that the power of God working in us can accomplish far more than we can ask or imagine.  We kneel to Jesus and find freedom, freedom to love and live without fear. 

A Greater Belonging In Jesus

Brad Sullivan

Proper 10, Year B

July 15, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

Mark 6:14-29

A Greater Belonging In Jesus

John the Baptist was killed because of a hastily-made promise given by a man who was overly aroused by his step daughter’s dancing.  With little thought as to possible consequence, Herod spoke his promise to give her whatever she wanted.  He was acting out of emotion, feeling more than thinking, and so in his lust and over excitement, he got a man killed.

I’d like to say that as disciples of Jesus, we don’t fall into that trap anymore, the trap of speaking and acting out of our emotions and letting our rash words cause harm to others.  I’d like to say that we don’t cause harm with our rash words, but of course we all still do.  As researcher and author Brené Brown points out, we like to think of ourselves as thinking people who also have emotions, but really, we are emotional people who also think sometimes.  We are often driven by our emotions and even our rational decisions are often clouded by our emotions. 

We may not often get people killed with a hastily made promise like Herod did, but remember that even before Herod had John killed, he had him imprisoned.  This was probably another hastily made decision, probably based largely on emotion.  Herod was the named Jewish king.  He was a puppet king of Rome, but even so, his assigned duty was to lead well the nation of Israel, so when he decided to marry his brother’s wife, John pointed out that doing so was against Jewish law.  Now usually, Herod liked listening to John.  He was perplexed by his teachings, but something about John’s teaching about God and about the ways of the people of Israel seems to have connected with Herod.  Then John called into question Herod’s unlawful marriage, and in what was likely a tantrumy fit of emotion, Herod decided that there was no longer room enough in Israel for both John and him, so he had John imprisoned. 

“I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go.”  That was Herod’s basic operating model with John.  We don’t often get people killed with our rash words and emotionally clouded decisions, but “I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go,” is something I hear with increasing frequency.

In our nation, with much of the vitriolic, emotional language surrounding any issue, people tend to be painted in absolute, binary terms.  On one side of what we hear, if you agree with anything President Trump does or says, then you are described or thought of as a hateful racist (which is completely false).  On the other side of what we hear, if you don’t agree with something President Trump does or says, then you are described or thought of as an anti-American nincompoop (also totally false).  Put another way, much of what we hear is, “I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go.”  That’s Herod’s way.

This way of thinking with our emotions, lives not only in our political thoughts and civil discourse.  The putting away of and rejection of the other ends up living in our church and our faith as well.   My guess is that most of us don’t believe in overly emotional labels of the other.   Most of us, when our emotions are down, don’t really believe in the “I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go” mentality.  Most of us would not want to kick out of the church those who have different beliefs about our faith or different beliefs about various laws in America.  We may disagree, but I’m guess that most of us would not want to declare those with whom we disagree no longer welcome in the Episcopal Church or no longer a part of the Body of Christ, and yet people continue to feel like that is exactly what they are being told.  “Because of what you believe, you no longer belong.”

I had a question recently from a friend in the Episcopal church, wondering about the Episcopal Church’s stance on a variety of current hot button issues.  Ultimately, he was wondering if he still belongs in the Episcopal Church.  He has more conservative views on most of the hot button issues of the day and he was wondering if because of his conservative views, he was going to be seen as a bigot in his church.  Hearing what some in his church have said, hearing what some leaders in the church have said, he was guessing that he wasn’t welcome.  Now, none of those leaders said he wasn’t welcome, but we hear it so much, that we hear “you aren’t welcome,” even when it is not being said or thought.  Based on conversations and observations of others in his church, he was afraid.  He felt that if he were to say that he agrees with some of President Trumps policies, that he would be labeled a hateful racist and be shunned. 

I assured him that as far as any official stance within the Episcopal Church goes, of course he is a part of the Episcopal Church, and of course his views are welcome in the Episcopal Church, and he is not viewed as a bigot for having conservative beliefs.  Nor is anyone viewed as a nincompoop for having liberal beliefs.  There are bishops, priest, and laity throughout the Episcopal Church on the far right, on the far left, everywhere in between, and all of those beliefs are welcome.  It’s not as comfortable as it is to say, “I disagree; you don’t belong.”  That’s a lot easier, but that is not the way of the Episcopal Church.   One of the longtime hallmarks of the Anglican/Episcopal church is that we are united in Jesus, and our unity in Jesus overcomes any other divisions we have. 

Sadly, much of how we talk about our differences leaves us feeling like there is only room for some of us.  I’ve been guilty of this in how I’ve talked and written.  I’m guessing many of us have, when we talk emotionally about an issue and end up saying things in such a way that those with opposing views end up hearing very clearly, “I don’t like what you have to say, so you’ll have to go.”

A one sided church is not, however, the way of the Anglican/Episcopal Church.  The Anglican Church started off with bloodshed.  When a catholic monarch was in charge, they killed the protestants, and when a protestant monarch was in charge, they killed the Catholics.  Finally, Elizabeth basically said,

We’re not doing this anymore.  This isn’t the church of  Catholicism; this isn’t the church of Protestantism.  This is the church of England.  Furthermore, this is the church of Jesus, and we are going to be united around Jesus and be united around prayer.  So all of you Catholics who are so upset that there are Protestants here, terribly sorry, we’re keeping them.  All of you protestants who are so upset that there are Catholics here, terribly sorry, we’re keeping them too, and we’re going to unite and come together in that tricky, messy middle place where we remain as one, united in Jesus. 

We continue to this day to seek a middle way between opposing views.  We continue to believe that our unity comes from Jesus and that there is room enough for all of us, even with our opposing views. 

In Herod’s kingdom, there was room enough only for what pleased Herod.  If someone challenged him or made him uncomfortable, then there was no longer room for that person.  In Jesus’ kingdom there is room for all of us.  We are all the Body of Christ and individually members of it.  Not only is there room for all of us, but there is need for all of us. 

One of the issues my friend asked about was immigration.  While he isn’t a fan of detaining children, he also believes that enforcing our immigration laws is a good thing.  He is aware of the human tracking that happens everywhere in the world, including along our southern border, and as much as he wanted children to be reunited with their parents, he was also aware of the possibility that some of those children were likely being trafficked by people who weren’t their parents. 

As it turns out, on the issue of separating families on our southern border, both sides have truths that we need.  We need to be compassionate in how we treat and speak about immigrants, and we need to enforce our laws with compassion and dignity, and we need to enforce our laws in order to keep people safe.  Both sides are needed for America to be the nation we were founded to be, and both sides are needed for us to truly live as the Body of Christ.  We need each other, and there is plenty of room in Jesus for all of us.

Paul wrote in his letter to the Galatians that basically there is no room in Jesus’ kingdom for enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, etc.  There is room, however, for being wrong.  There is room for disagreeing.  There is room for striving for what is right and good, and coming up with different solutions for doing what is right and good.  There is room within Jesus, within the Body of Christ for what Paul calls the fruits of the Spirit:  love for each other, joy in creation and our faith, peace in our hearts, patience and kindness as we live with others, assuming each others’ goodness, faithfulness to Jesus, gentleness and self-control as we live with our differences.  These fruits are how we live with one another in Jesus because these fruits are part of the character and nature of who Jesus is.

Unlike in Herod’s kingdom of his way only, of rash words and decisions based on raw emotion and arousal, we belong to Jesus’ kingdom.  No political or social belief unites us or divides us, and no rash words spoken by any of us in the heat of emotion get to declare that someone else doesn’t belong.  We all belong in Jesus.