Sleeper Awake (and Quit that Darn Snooze Button)

Brad Sullivan

5th Sunday of Lent

March 18, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

John 12:20-33

Sleeper Awake (and Quit that Darn Snooze Button)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Tale of Two Households

Brad Sullivan

1 Advent, Year B

December 3, 2017

Emmanuel, Houston

Mark 13:24-27

A Tale of Two Households

When Jesus told his parable about the master of a household going away on a journey and leaving his servants in charge of the household while he was gone, telling them to keep awake and be ready for his return, Jesus was talking about how his disciples were to live once he was crucified, as they waited for him to come again at the end of time and restore all of creation.  Rather than try to tease out each drop of meaning from each detail of his parable, I thought I’d expand on the parable and see where it leads, in order to develop Jesus’ point in telling the parable.  I call this “A Tale of Two Households.”

There was a master of a large household, almost like a small kingdom, with herds of cows, flocks of sheep, chickens, a vast and productive farm, and the members of the master’s household, servants and family alike, worked together to keep all of the household going.  All who could worked hard.  Those who could not were cared for by the rest, and even they, those who could not work, cared for the others through their nurture, storytelling, kindness and compassion.  The household had an abundance of what was needed, and they shared what they had with other households when they were in need, without asking for anything in return.  Far away, there was another household which, from time to time, suffered from droughts, and they would send for help from the master’s household.  Help was again given, without grumbling, but gladly, freely, with goodwill and love. 

Then, one day, the master told his household that he would be going away for a while.  He told them all to continue on as they had when he was there, to care for each other, and provide for others out of their abundance.  “Keep awake,” he said.  For a time they did so, but then weeks turned into seasons, and seasons turned into years, and they began to fall asleep.

Some remained dutiful in their tasks while others didn’t see the point with the master no longer around.  They thought they wouldn’t receive their just reward or that the land and property should really be theirs.  Some stopped working.  Others began to elevate themselves above everyone else, claiming to be in charge and forcing some to work for them.

Others wanted to keep a remembrance of the Master and built a shrine to him.  They didn’t really follow in his ways, but they lit candles and prayed for his safe return.  Then of course, they felt the shrine needed to be kept up, and so they enlisted some of those who had stopped working to help with the upkeep of the shrine.  Others found hope in their shrine and prayers, so they brought food and other necessities to the workers of the shrine so that they could keep up their good work.

The household was no longer a place of abundance, but they still thought of themselves as such.  They remembered when others would come and receive from their abundance, and so those who had taken charge sent out people to the other nearby households to demand portions of what they had.  Eventually, the emissaries from the Master’s household began working as overseers in the other households, taking more than they needed from them, keeping some for their own enrichment and sending back more to the Master’s household.  The Master’s household became plentiful again, taking from others to feed itself. 

Then the far away household had another drought, and they sent people to seek aid. The Master’s household was no longer generous, and so rather than give to them without question, they sent another emissary to see the conditions for themselves. They worked with the household there to have better irrigation so the drought wouldn’t affect them as badly.  Being such a good benefactor, the emissary took a large portion of what they produced for himself and for his Master’s household.  After many years, the distant household was very productive, but the condition of the people in that household was worse than it had been before. 

Still, the members of the Master’s household saw themselves as good, kind, and benevolent overseers, bringing prosperity to all.  They even erected shrines to the Master in the other households, the heads of those houses having long been replaced by the emissaries from the Master’s household.  The Master’s household continued to grow and flourish and continued to call themselves a city on a hill.  There were a few who stayed awake, who kept in the Master’s ways and remained generous, encouraging others and sharing what they had, but they were largely not listened to, seen as troublemakers, or admired by some from afar.

Then, the Master returned.  He neither recognized his household, nor almost anyone in it.  Those who kept the shrine thought surely he would be grateful to them, but instead, he asked why they didn’t work at the jobs he had given them and help those around them, or at least share what they were given to help others.  The Master ejected them all from his household, save those few who had stayed awake and kept in his ways, and he invited those from the other households to come and be with him instead.

Now, there is no direct cognate between the old and the new household in the story I told.  You can’t call it Jews verses Christians, some Christians verses others, or even Americans verses Africans or Native Americans.  There is truth in this story which is told and happens over and over.  There is good news in this story and there is warning in this story. 

This story is about how we live in this life and in this world, and the warning is not that those who had fallen asleep were rejected by the master.  That is the obvious truth, the consequence of living inhumanely.  The warning is about the horrors of what happens when we fall asleep.  When we fall asleep, we begin thinking of ourselves without also thinking of others.  When we fall asleep, we worry and fear, we look on others with suspicion.  When we fall asleep, we become less generous, more self important, and can even see ourselves as better than others.  Think of conquest, death and destruction, in the name of bringing Jesus to others.  Think of looking down on others for their mistakes or lifestyles without the compassion of looking deeply to see the human being doing their best, mistakes and all.  When we fall asleep, we tend to assume we are still awake while also assuming, with contempt, that others have fallen asleep.

When we fall asleep, we tend to see ourselves as benevolent benefactors through our charity and good works, while failing to see that some of our own actions, as individuals and as a society, contribute to the need for our charity in the first place.  When we fall asleep, we tend to view God as one who is pleased by our religion and our observance of religious rituals, rather than one who wants us first and foremost to live well toward each other, our religion as merely a tool to help heal our hearts so that we can live lovingly toward ourselves and others.  When we fall asleep we end up fighting with each other over the minutia of our religion, claiming in groups and out groups, becoming obsessed with doing everything just in the right way, rather than remembering that Jesus ate with sinners and told us to share a meal together and to remember him when we did so.

The warning of Jesus’ story is what happens to us and the harm we do when we fall asleep and become the household of slumber.  The good news of Jesus’ story is the first household, the true city on a hill, the household of those who are awake.  The good news is the generosity and love we share when we are awake.  The good news is how we treat one another immediately following a hurricane and flood.  The good news is when we value people more than things, when we value others’ well being over our own absolute security. 

The good news is that Jesus cares about people more than religion, and he desires for us to do the same.  The good news is also that Jesus knows we’ll mess up and he has already forgiven us; so that we are free to love others and live out his household, his kingdom, not out of any fear, but purely out of love for others.  Finally, the good news is that Jesus does not only return in the clouds at the end of time, but he returns daily in face of anyone and everyone around us, calling us to wake up.  Wake, arise, and cast off the ways of the household of slumber, and live again in the household of those who are awake.