And That's What Christmas Is All About: Becoming Human On A Lark

Brad Sullivan

Christmas Eve, Year A

December 24, 2016

Emmanuel, Houston

Luke 2:1-14(15-20)

Becoming Human On A Lark

And that’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.  Every time I hear Luke’s telling of Jesus’ birth, I hear Linus telling the Christmas story to Charlie Brown, letting him know what Christmas is really all about.  Christmas is about the joy of God becoming human and how fantastic it is that God thinks highly enough of us, love us enough, that he actually wanted to be one of us.  How crazy is that?  How great, but is God just totally nuts?  Maybe.  Now, rumor has it that becoming human:  living, dying, being resurrected for our sake, was always part of God’s plan, but what if it started on a lark, kind of just a crazy, whimsical idea?  Imagine Jesus, before becoming human, saying to his Father:

Jesus:               Dad, you know how much we love those humans?

Father:             Yeah, Son.  I do.

Jesus:               Have you ever thought about how great it would be to actually be one of them?

Father:             What do you mean, Son?

Jesus:               Well, we love them so much, I’d really like to be one of them, like how people share their lives and experiences with each other, and they draw nearer to each other through sharing their lives together.  You know how you’re always wanting humans to draw nearer to you?  Well, how much nearer can you get?  We become one of them.

Father:             (considers for a moment)  You know, that’s really not a bad idea.  Let’s see what the Spirit says.  You’ve been listening, I take it?

Holy Spirit:     Of course I have, and I think it’s a lovely idea.  Connect with them, show them how much we care.  You know, it may even be a chance to redeem them.

Jesus:               Hey.

Father:             Hmm, you know that’s a heck of an idea, something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.

Holy Spirit:     I know you have.

Father:             They separated themselves from us in the Garden.

Jesus:               So we join ourselves back to them by becoming one of them. 

Father:             Hmm…except there’s still that sin problem.

Holy Spirit:     Oh, there you go again.

Father:             Well, it’s a big problem.

Holy Spirit:     I know it is.

Father:             They keep hurting each other, hurting themselves, putting up barriers between each other, barriers between them and us.

Holy Spirit:     Uh huh. (kind of patronizing)

Father:             We are love.  We don’t have any barriers between us.  It’s not like we can have Jesus go out there and sin.

Holy Spirit:     I know.

Father:             (sigh, exasperated)  All I ever wanted was for them to love each other like we love our-self, like we love them.  It gets very frustrating.

Holy Spirit:     Well you know, if he becomes human, Jesus could join with all of their sins in his death.

Jesus:               Wait, what?

Father:             Oh, now you’re talking.  We could somehow pour all of humanity’s sins onto him so even their sins won’t separate them from us.

Jesus:               Um…guys, I’m not so sure…

Holy Spirit:     It’d have to be a memorable death, too, something gruesome…

Jesus:               Ok guys, hold it.  I was thinking of something simple, like a little weekend tryst…

Father:             Oh, no that wouldn’t do.  You’d need to do the whole thing, you know, grow up, be born…

Jesus:               Ewe!  You’re joking, right?  You’ve seen how that whole birth thing happens?

Father:             You said you love them.

Jesus:               Oye!  They are awfully cute.  Ok, full deal.  When do you think I should be born?  The 1970s had really good music, Star Wars…no, late 1940s, early 50s England.  I‘ll grow up with David Bowie.  It’ll be awesome.

Father:             Oh Son, I’ve got just the place.

Ok, so lest I lead us all into heresy forever, I pretty sure that conversation never took place, but I love the idea of God becoming human, of Jesus being born, on a lark, as someone who really loves someone else and simply wants to spend more time with them.  That’s what Christmas is all about.  God saying to humanity, “I love you, and I’d really like to spend more time with you.”  That may seem awfully simple, but I believe nothing in creation has greater healing power than relationship and love.

In Eden, we walked with God, naked and unashamed.  There were no barriers to our relationships with God and no barriers to our relationships with one another.  Over time then, we kept on and keep on putting up more and more barriers to each other.  Initially, we decided that we wanted knowledge:  Adam and Even ate from the tree of knowledge.  There was much unknown in creation and the fear of the unknown began gnawing at us, eroding our trust in God, until we decided that we desired knowledge more that trust, and the first barrier to relationship was raised.

Then we felt ashamed for what we had done and so we hid, and we covered ourselves with fig leaves, and the next barrier to relationship went up.  Then God came and found us and asked what had happened, and we lied, passing the buck onto the serpent, passing the buck onto Eve, rather than fessing up to our fears and our lack of trust, and so another barrier to relationship went up.  We went from naked and unashamed to hidden and full of shame, and ever since then, we’ve continued to put up barriers to relationships, as broken people raising defense mechanisms to protect ourselves from harm.  The result of course, is that we end up harming our relationships with God and with each other…wars, murders, fights, broken friendships, all because we choose not to trust but seek instead to protect ourselves from harm, when the risk and trust of relationship is really the only thing that can heal us. 

So in order to heal us, God gives us the very risk and trust of relationship that we so desperately need.  God gives us himself, naked and unashamed, vulnerable as a newborn baby:  Jesus, born in Bethlehem to Mary and Joseph, a young couple, faithful and kind.  They were not great rulers.  They had no great power to offer God any great protection once he became human.  God decided to trust us with the vulnerability of his human life, offering us his vulnerable, naked, and unashamed self, trusting in nothing more than the care of two loving and faithful parents. 

See, God wants us to love and trust him and so God chose to love and trust us.  God also knows that life is hard, and knows we’re not always great at trusting anyone, especially someone who hasn’t walked in our shoes.  So, God became human to say, “I love you, and I think you humans are pretty fantastic.  So I am going to show up in your life, naked and unashamed, so that you can trust me, and if you will allow it, I will take down all of the barriers that you have put up.”   

That’s what Christmas is all about.  That’s a pretty serious deal, God healing humanity by becoming one of us.  At the same time, I have to think that for the creator of everything to become human, he’s got to be kind of crazy, whimsical, fun too.  Imagine God as a toddler walking around in his creation, living amongst his beloved humans, constantly delighted by what’s around him.  Imagine 2 year old Jesus running around constantly thinking, “This place is great!  Look at that tree; I love that tree.  Ooh, a lake!  I think I’ll go swimming or maybe walking.” 

The very fact of the incarnation, God’s crazy notion to become human and live here with us shows us just how fantastic it is to be living here on this earth and that in God’s eyes, we really are pretty fantastic. 

We also need to remember of course, that life is also not always fantastic, that life is sometimes rather terrible, that we are sometimes rather terrible, and on Christmas we celebrate that Jesus came to live that part of our life too.  God gets the messy parts of our lives, the times in our lives and world when things are far from fantastic.  Jesus claimed even those bad times and those bad parts of our lives as his own when he became human.  That’s what Christmas is all about.

The greatest gift God ever gave us was the gift of God’s-self.  God gave us the gift of being naked and unashamed with us, loving and trusting us so that we might once again be naked and unashamed with him and with each other.  The greatest gift we can give each other, then, is the gift of ourselves, fully living, loving and trusting one another.

Jesus became human so that we could love each other in and through the bad times and the good times, and then see each other and see this world and think, “this is fantastic.”  Jesus became human so that we could remove our barriers, trust each other and trust God, and then love fully, love with whimsy, love on a lark.  That’s what Christmas is all about.  Amen.

Carol of the Rogues

I Am One With The Force, and The Force Is With Me.

Ok, so having seen "Rogue One" twice now, I can definitely say my favorite line in the movie is, "I am one with The Force, and The Force is with me."  (Admittedly, "It's high...It's very high."  is a close second - thank you Alan Tudyk!)  Fear not, there are no spoilers below!

In the film, a blind, former [servant of a Jedi temple] is also a man with deep faith in The Force.  He believes all things are connected through The Force, and he proves to be not only a fearsome warrior, but also a wise companion, friend, and guide.  His faith in The Force guides him through the darkness, removing his fear, as he continually seeks to align his will with that of The Force. 

Sound familiar?  For anyone who is a disciple of Jesus, it sounds very familiar (although, we have our faith in, you know, Jesus).  For me, watching this film and hearing the blind man's repeated prayer, having faith in Jesus is having faith in The Force.  Not that I'll be able to use a lightsaber or move things with my mind.  Rather, the belief that all of life is connected, that we can navigate through the darkness of life by aligning our wills with that of the creative force which made and binds all things...for me, that creative force is Jesus. 

In the last couple of days, I've been praying the prayer from Rogue One.  "I am one with The Force, and The Force is with me."  At first I was thinking "Jesus" when saying "The Force", and later, I began saying "Jesus" rather than "The Force".  I'm not a big fan of taking everything cool and trying to Jesusize it (usually in an effort to make Christianity cool for some unknown others).  In this case, the prayer from the movie and the idea behind it fit well with my faith in Jesus (and seemed cool to me, being the big Star Wars dork that I am). 

So, "I am one with Jesus and Jesus is with me" has become my new prayer.  It's been a helpful and empowering refrain while engaging in the daily struggles of life, that I am one with all that is, and the creative force behind everything is with me.  The prayer has brought me peace and a more continual desire to be a force for peace. 

...imagining myself as a blind guardian with a bow staff doesn't suck either. 

May The Force be with you.

Brad+

The Great Lie of Life

Brad Sullivan

3 Advent, Year A

December 11, 2016

Emmanuel, Houston

James 5:7-10

Matthew 11:2-11

The Great Lie of Life

We hear in our story from the Gospel according to Matthew today a story about John the Baptist, sitting in prison and wondering if all he had done had been worth it.  Was God’s kingdom truly coming?  Was salvation actually at hand?  Or, had he thrown his life away, been miserable out in the wilderness, eaten locusts for God’s sake (literally for God’s sake), and ended up in prison, soon to be killed, all for a lie, a misguided zealot’s farce?  Was Jesus truly the messiah, the anointed one?  So he asked, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

Jesus could never give a simple “yes” or “no”, could he?  When John’s disciples asked the very direct question, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another,” Jesus answered, “The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.” 

I can hear in Jesus’ response, the tacit, “Of course I am, John.  Doesn’t that sound like salvation?  Doesn’t that sound like the kingdom of God?”  But then I can imagine John thinking, “Thanks, Jesus, that sounds great for those people, the lepers, the deaf, the dead, the poor, but I’m sitting here in prison.  Have I thrown my life away for nothing or not?”

To that second, unasked question, Jesus preemptively says, “blessed are those who take no offense at me.”  “Take no offence at me, John, even though I am not all that you thought I would be.  Fear not, even though I have allowed you to be imprisoned.  Fear not, even though I have not taken command of Israel and destroyed Rome.  Fear not, John, because the Kingdom of God, that political, social, and religious revolution for which you entered the desert, for which you have been imprisoned, that revolution will not come at the point of a sword, nor will the turning of the world upside down come with the violent upheaval of mighty forces and fields drenched in blood.

“The turning of the world upside down, the revolution, the movement for which you have given your life, John, will come with each life which repents of anger, destruction, and isolation, and which turns instead towards love. 

“Remember all those people who came to be baptized, John, those who were so thirsty for the waters of repentance, that they entered the Jordan River with you, those muddy waters, filthy, dirty as sin.  Those people entered those waters not so that I could take up the sword against the occupying nation of Rome.  Those people entered the waters not so that we could shed blood and turn the waters of the Jordan from brown to red. 

“Those people entered the waters of the Jordan because they wanted to draw near to God and they didn’t want their past or future sins and wrongdoings to prevent them from drawing near to God ever again.  They entered the waters of the Jordan to be free.  They wanted to be free from the shackles which the religious elite had placed on them, telling them that they were never good enough to approach God.  They wanted to be free from the same old ways of life which they thought would bring healing and wholeness, free the same old ways of life which they thought would soothe the suffering of their souls and fill the void, but which only left more brokenness and the void in their souls even greater.  Those people entered the desert with you so that they could wash, be made new, and then leave the desert for the promised land of life in God’s kingdom.

“God’s kingdom is not brought about through the continual shedding of blood, the killing and exclusion of those we believe to be unworthy of God, and the only way I could free you, John, would be to let the bloodletting begin again, so no, John, I am not going to free you.  ‘Am I the one who is to come or should you wait for another?’  Here’s what’s happening, John. ‘The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.’  Remember, it was for such as those that you baptized, John.  So take no offense at me, for the Kingdom of God is indeed at hand. 

“At the same time, yes John, you are going to die in prison.  In fact, you’re going to be beheaded at the hands of a faithless, immoral, and impulsive ruler, simply because he was turned on by a young woman’s dancing.  The kingdom of God is at hand, and you are going to die senselessly for your efforts in bringing it about. 

That’s probably not what John wanted to hear.

For us, 21st century disciples of Jesus, those of us who are a part of the Jesus movement which John helped start almost 2000 years ago, we too get to be a part of the Kingdom of God.  We too get to help bring about the Kingdom of God and live into the Kingdom of God, continually turning toward love, continually turning toward Jesus, and offering that love to others, offering Jesus to others…everyone we see, including the poor, the blind, the lame, the marginalized, the overworked, overstressed, those trying like hell to live life the right way, and certain that most of the time they are failing.  We get to offer love, grace, forgiveness, mercy.  We get to offer Jesus.

At the same time, like John, we will at times still find ourselves in prison, wondering when Jesus is going to come, and the only answer we will receive is, “I’m not coming.”  Like everyone in the world, we who are part of the Jesus movement have sicknesses which are not healed, loved ones who die too soon, relationships which are broken.  Like everyone else in the world, we suffer from sorrows, addictions, times of being overwhelmed and feeling trapped, times in which we feel imprisoned by life.

Contra some clap-trap out there that various preachers peddle as gospel, believing in Jesus and following in the Jesus movement does not earn us a get out of suffering free card.  We all know this.  We still struggle with life:  bad jobs, no jobs, difficult or failed marriages, disease, sickness, senseless death, dashed hopes.  Like with John, this is probably not what we wanted to hear this Sunday, but we’re fooling ourselves if we try to pretend anything else. 

Like John sitting in prison, following Jesus, giving our lives to his teachings and his service, trusting him and following in his movement…all of that affords us no special protection.  We suffer and we die just like everyone else. 

The great lie of life, the great lie of medicine, the great lie of wealth, and even the great lie of some modern pseudo-Christianity is that we can avoid suffering and death.

Avoiding suffering and death is not the Gospel.  The Gospel is that our suffering and death is not punishment from a capricious, child-like God with a nasty temper and a mean streak a mile long. Suffering and death is simply a part of life, and the Gospel accepts that truth.  The Gospel then tells us another truth:  we are not alone in suffering.  We are with a God who likes humanity so much that, even with our human frailty, he thought it would be a really good idea to become one of us.  God loves us so much that he actually wanted to be human.  So the Gospel truth is we are not alone even in death, and death does not have the final word.  Life continues through suffering.  Life continues after death. 

Accepting that fact, accepting that we are all dust, and to dust we shall return, we can then let go of the countless ways we try to avoid suffering and death.  We can let go of that fruitless struggle and then grasp with both hands the life that truly is life.  Letting go of fear, we can truly live and see all of the joy and beauty in this world, even in the midst of suffering and death.

It’s a risky road, the Jesus movement, the revolution for which John prepared the way.  Love always is a risk.  But, the life of the Jesus movement, the life in which the downtrodden and unacceptable are loved and included, that life is worth the risk.  The life of the Jesus movement, the life in which God is with us in our sorrow and death, the life in which we are never alone, and we remain with each other even in our sorrow and death, that life is worth every risk, even the risk of feeling disappointed as we sit in whatever prison we find ourselves hearing Jesus tell us that he isn’t coming this time.

If we’re truly honest with selves, all of life is a risk.  Waking up in the morning is a risk.  In the Jesus movement, however, we risk with each other.  We risk for each other.  We risk with God for the sake of all of those who come to the dirty as sin waters of the Jordan seeking freedom, seeking acceptance, seeking Jesus.  Amen.

I'll Take First Watch

Brad Sullivan

1 Advent, Year A

November 27, 2016

Emmanuel, Houston

Romans 13:11-14
Matthew 24:36-44

I’ll Take First Watch

“I’ll take first watch.”  That is a frequent refrain on the AMC hit TV series, “The Walking Dead”, a show which I have been watching the TV show now for years.  For those unfamiliar with The Walking Dead, it is a show about a zombie apocalypse and the struggle for survival of those few humans left who are not the walking dead.  Whether the survivors are walking through the wilderness or living in the moderate safety of a walled-in community, there are constant threats from zombies (what they call “walkers”) and even from other humans.  So, “I’ll take first watch” is a frequent refrain on the show, a life or death situation.

“I’ll take first watch” was also about the first thing that popped into my head when I read this Sunday’s gospel lesson from Matthew 24, in which Jesus told his disciples to keep awake and be ready.   Jesus telling his disciples to stay awake and be ready for the second coming…keeping watch during a zombie apocalypse…they’re pretty close, right?

Jesus had given these calamitous images of what would precede his coming again.  There is going to be a lot of darkness in the world before the return of the light.  So, in the mean time, keep watch.  Keep your lights burning.

The apostle Paul had this to say about keeping our lights burning:

You know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us live honorably as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.  (Romans 13:11-14)

Ok, so that actually sounds like a bit of a far cry from taking first watch against the threat of zombie attack.  Then again, these ideas of keeping alert, of laying aside the works of darkness and putting on the armor of light kind of fit with the walking dead analogy. 

Keep ready, lest you become one of the walking dead.  Put on the armor of light, lest you become one who is living, but who has little real life within him, what Paul calls in his first letter to Timothy, “the life that really is life.” (1 Timothy 6:19)  Stay alert lest you become one who has lost compassion.  One who has lost humility.  One who has lost unconditional love.  Stay alert lest you become one for whom forgiveness is rarely if ever freely given, but rather is given only as quid pro quo for some form of restitution.  Stay alert lets you become the walking dead, one who demonizes the other out of fear.  One for whom fear and anger have taken hold so much so, that despair and hatred are a way of life.  Stay alert lest you become a lifeless walker, one for whom belittling, beating, or even killing out of fear, or one’s religion, is preferable to taking the risky road of love, the risky road of living in peace.  The list of the walking dead goes on and on. 

So, “I’ll take first watch” actually fits rather well with our Gospel for today, although taking watch does look decidedly different than arming oneself hand and foot to try to take down a zombie.

For us, taking the watch looks a bit more like the prayer of St. Francis.  Rather than simply pray this prayer, I am going to sing it.  This is something I do from time to time during sermons.  This is a particular arrangement that I wrote combining the Prayer of St. Francis with the Serenity Prayer.

Lord, make us servants of your peace.     

Where there is hatred may we sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.                  

Where there is discord, union.

Where there is doubt, may we sow faith.         

Where there’s despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, may we sow light.   

 Where there is sadness, joy.

Lord, grant us serenity to accept what we can’t change,

Courage to change the things we can,

Wisdom to know the difference,

And make us servants of your peace.

Grant that we may not so much seek  

To be consoled as to console,

To be understood as to understand,                 

To be loved as to love,

For it is in giving that we receive,                  

And it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

And it is in dying that we are raised to live.

Lord make us servants of your peace.

That’s what taking the watch looks like in Jesus’ kingdom.  The prayer of St. Francis is keeping alert in Jesus’ kingdom, putting on the armor of light, as Paul wrote. 

Paul, Francis, Jesus are saying that what we do really does matter.  For Paul, this may seem a little paradoxical, considering that he and many in the early church believed Jesus was coming back very soon.  They were thinking, “Any day now, Jesus is going to come back and redeem the whole world.”  Well, with the belief Jesus was coming back very soon to redeem the whole world, why would what anyone did matter?  Jesus was right about to fix it, and yet, Paul believed that what they did, the actions they took in their lives, mattered a great deal. 

Our actions matter not because our actions are ultimately going to redeem the world.  Jesus is going to and has already redeemed the world.  Jesus is going to restore all of creation.  Some would think then that nothing we do matters.  Not so.

Jesus is Lord of all creation, and Jesus is Lord of each of us.  He has offered to be Lord of our hearts.  Why?  Because if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do.

We can’t bring about the ultimate redemption of the world.  We can, however, help in the redemption of countless lives in the mean time.  We can help in the redemption of countless broken relationships.  We can help in the redemption of countless seemingly hopeless situations.  We can help in the redemption of the countless poor choices people make and poor paths people take.  We can be the light for those in darkness, helping them to see the light of Jesus, and the light of his way. 

We get to keep watch, to keep the light shining in the darkness.  Like stars shining in the night, the darker the night seems, the more stars you see.  As my five year old goddaughter, Avery, said while dancing and singing to herself in her house, “Every single star you see is one good act.”  The more we keep watch, the more stars people see, the more we shine in the darkness to guide people to the light of Jesus, to the life that really is life.

So, be a servant of God’s peace.  Be a light in the darkness.  Take first watch.  Amen.