“Nope,” Jesus said. Rather than bring death, Jesus transformed death into life.

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets, Houston
October 20, 2024
Proper 24, B
Isaiah 53:4-12
Psalm 91:9-16
Mark 10:35-45

So, there’s an election coming up in a few weeks, and yes, I am encouraging you all to vote, and no, I’m not encouraging anyone to vote in any particular way. I’m bringing up the election because it is once again rather contentious, hotly contested, and there’s this feeling in the air of, “Holy Dear Lord Almighty Sweet Baby Jesus, if the right side doesn’t win, then the Kingdom of God will be destroyed, and Jesus will never return.”
 
That is, of course, not the case. Neither side winning is going to bring about the destruction of the Kingdom of God. The election may be important, but it ain’t that important. Not even the gates of Hell can prevail against the Kingdom of God, and the president and congress of the United States, as much power as they may wield, aren’t powerful enough to destroy or bring about God’s kingdom.
 
Our hope is not in whoever becomes president. As Jesus pointed out to his disciples in our Gospel lesson today, our hope is not in any human power or position. Our hope is in Jesus, in the unity with God and one another which Jesus has forged. The Word of God which spoke creation into existence became human, fully uniting humanity and divinity. God and humans are one, and nothing, not even a bad president can separate that unity.  
 
So, despite the terrible angst and seemingly large stakes of the upcoming election, our hope is in Jesus’ victory. His is the victory and power not of human governments, not of domination, or enforcing his will. Jesus’ victory is the power of service, surrender, and resurrection, transforming death into life.
 
That resurrection power of service and surrender is the power we live out when we live the life of the kingdom of God which Jesus taught us to live. In today’s Gospel reading, once again, Jesus taught us to wield resurrection power not through the might of ruling over others, but through loving and serving one another as we were created to do.  
 
When James and John sought great power from Jesus, he assured them that such power of ruling over others is not what makes us great in the kingdom of God. They wanted to sit one on his right hand and one on his left, and they weren’t thinking of life after this up in heaven. That idea was kind of a concept in Jesus’ day, but not the dogma we have now. The thought of, “Let me serve with you after I’ve died,” was almost certainly not in their brains.

No, James and John wanted earthly power to rule with Jesus as his co-world-dominating vice-presidents. They wanted power and might over other human beings, and that is simply not the way of the kingdom of God.
 
“You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you;” Jesus taught, “but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant.” That sounds a lot like Eden, being one another’s companions and helpers.  
That teaching that those who wish to be great must be servants in God’s kingdom is pretty darn similar to the teaching we heard last week with the man who had great wealth. Remember, he wanted to make sure that he had the best of everything in this world and this life, and also to make sure that he had the best of everything in the life to come. “Sure, Jesus, I care about others and hear you teaching that I can use my vast wealth to serve others and to make sure they have enough as well, but I really love my stuff more than I do other people.” He wanted an “all about me” salvation, making sure that he was going to be ok, and not thinking too much about the well-being of anyone else. That’s not salvation; it’s just selfishness.
 
Remember the man in the parable Jesus told who used his great wealth to make sure everyone who worked for him, had a living wage. He even went searching for more folks to work for him, even if only for an hour, to make sure that they had a living wage too. That’s greatness in God’s kingdom, using wealth as a servant, not as one to be served.
 
Greatness in God’s kingdom comes from using what God has given us for the benefit of others, not for ourselves to get even more, and greatness in God’s kingdom does not come by forcing the world to be how we want it to be. Even when we’re right, it’s not our world to force our will upon. Even if we’re right, forcing our will on others is being a tyrant, and Jesus expressly taught against being a tyrant. The world is not any of ours to rule, not even by proxy, electing the folks we think are the right ones to be in office. God’s kingdom and our hope do not come from us or through elected proxies on our behalf. No, our hope and God’s kingdom come from Jesus, from the unity with God that he gave and through the resurrection life that he continually gives.
 
Even so, a lot of us are going to be mightily disappointed the day after the election. Some will be angry. Some may be legitimately afraid because of who gets elected, and some will be afraid probably not so legitimately. Fear, anger, and angst are very human and understandable reactions to the changes and chances of this life. Reacting out of our fear, anger, and angst, are also understandable, and, those fearful and angry reactions go against the kingdom of God. Those fearful and angry reactions come from feelings of powerlessness, wanting power over a world that is not in our control.
 
That is the power that James and John wanted, and Jesus told them, “No.” That power is not the way of God’s kingdom.
 
Jesus teaches us instead to accept our powerlessness, just like he did before Pontius

Pilate. “I have the power to kill you or to save your life,” Pilate said. “Nope,” Jesus said. “I could command hosts of angels to save me and destroy you all, but I’m not going to do that.” Jesus could have brought death to thousands and saved his own life.  Instead, Jesus accepted the seeming power that Pilate held over him, and because of that, rather than just bring more death, Jesus transformed death into life.
 
So, what are we to do then with our fear, and anger, and feelings of powerlessness? Once again, we follow Jesus’ example and teaching. We give our fear and anger over to God. We ask God for the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. We act out of the fruit of the Spirit, rather than the burning fire of our anger and fear. Let by the fruit of the Spirit, we can call and write our political leaders to let them know of our fear and anger. They probably won’t care, but we can.
 
We can let go our fear and anger, accept our powerlessness, and choose to love and serve one another because that is who and how we were made to be. Loving and serving one another is how we live the eternal life of God. Loving and serving one another is how we live the life of God’s kingdom.
 
Our hope is in Jesus, and our hope is in the resurrection life of service and surrender, loving one another, even loving our enemies, so that all things, even death itself, are transformed into life.   

All People Are of Infinite Value to God. Nations, Not So Much.

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets
July 21, 2024
Proper 11, B
Jeremiah 23:1-6
Psalm 23
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

 

When Jesus saw a great crowd, hungry for his teaching, he taught them because he had compassion on them. When people heard that Jesus was near, they brought to him those who were sick and in need so that he would heal them. Jesus spent a huge amount of his time healing people, teaching people, sometimes in crowds like we heard today, and sometimes with individuals, like we also heard today.

The Jesus revolution, the world-healing movement of Jesus was lived through healing and teaching people. He taught people to came to him and wanted to hear what he had to say, and he healed people who came to him and wanted to be healed.

Jesus didn’t topple King Herod’s corrupt government. Jesus didn’t raise armies to destroy the oppressive nation of Rome. Jesus changed the world through the lives of people. Jesus truly loved and cared for people, and his desire for us, his teaching to us, was that we would do the same.

This is in stark contrast to King Herod whom we heard about last week and the ancient kings of Israel who had led them so poorly. The ancient kings amassed great wealth for themselves, partly to show power and strength to other nations. The ancient kings dealt unjustly with the people. They cared for those with wealth, power, and influence to increase their own wealth, power, and influence, and at the same time they ignored and worsened the plights of those with less, those who seemed unimportant in their eyes.

Herod did the same. As king of an occupied nation, semi-autonomous, kinda, he was supposed to be leading his people according to the ways of God, but he was trying to keep Rome happy and keep the people from rising up against Rome. He of course, then had his courtiers and officials to placate, his influence to maintain, so, John peacefully spoke out against the crown, he had him beheaded on the whim of a young alluring girl and her mom. Amidst so many powerful forces and the pressure of everything weighing on him, Herod led his people further down the path of destruction, dealing in the same injustice and oppression of the kings before him. Herod cared for those with wealth, power, and influence and ignored and worsened the plights of those with less, those who seemed unimportant in his eyes.

I’d say there’s still plenty of that going on today in plenty of places, with plenty of rulers and leaders. Now, I’d guess that folks all along the political spectrum could hear my words and think I’m preaching against the particular politicians or candidates they don’t like.

I’m not.

I’m not preaching for or against governmental powers. They all have their place in seeking justice and wellbeing for all, but when I look for how to truly love and care for people, I don’t look to our government because Jesus didn’t set up our government to live out God’s mission in the world. For Jesus, shepherding the people wasn’t about setting up his new dynasty on the throne. Jesus shepherding the people was about caring for all people, poor and rich, exalted and lowly. Jesus’ way was to love and care for others, not to increase his power to impose his will in the world.

Jesus saw Rome as an occupying nation over Israel. He knew Rome was going to overtake and destroy Israel, and he let it happen. Jesus didn’t lead his people into an armed revolt against Rome. He didn’t sacrifice others’ lives to make the nation secure. Jesus cared for the lives of those who were there. Whether Israel was its own nation, or whether they were oppressed by Rome, or even if they were destroyed by Rome with the people of Israel scattered, Jesus cared for the people in the same way.

Rather than bring about some greater good for “the nation” by sacrificing the lives of the people, Jesus let destruction happen to the nation, choosing instead to love and care for people, not treat them as tools for his purposes.

Amidst Rome rising up and threatening to destroy Israel, Jesus’ way of healing and teaching folks may seem a bit small and unimportant. Shouldn’t he have made the nation great? Well, trying to make the nation great was certainly the way of the previous kings, but that wasn’t the way of God. Nation will rise against nation, God taught, and in the midst of nations rising and falling, God’s way for us is to love and care for one another. It may seem insignificant, but the key is that all people, each person, are of infinite value to God. Nations, not so much.

Great tumultuous upheavals are going to happen. We’re not going to prevent such things. God hasn’t taught us to. In the midst of great upheaval, God has taught us to love one another.

Late Archbishop of Canterbury Arthur Michael Ramsey wrote,  

Amidst the vast scene of the world’s problems and tragedies you may feel that your own ministry seems so small, so insignificant, so concerned with the trivial. What a tiny difference it can make to the world that you should run a youth club, or preach to a few people in a church, or visit families with seemingly small result. But consider: the glory of Christianity is its claim that small things really matter and that the small company, the very few, the one man, the one woman, the one child are of infinite worth to God. Consider our Lord himself. Amidst a vast world with its vast empires and vast events and tragedies our Lord devoted himself to individual men and women, often giving hours and time to the very few or to the one man or woman.

Loving one another is how we can bring about change in the world. If we set our minds on bringing about some greater good, but sacrifice loving and caring for individuals to bring those greater goods about, then we’re following the ways of Herod and the kings of old. Preaching, teaching, forcing change without genuine love for the people involved is to scatter God’s flock, to drive them away. The way of Jesus is to love and care for others. No good that we’re trying to achieve can come at the expense of people. Jesus showed us that in the infinite value he placed on each person whom he taught, the infinite value he placed on each person he healed, the infinite value he placed on each person he just had a conversation or a meal with.

No act of love or caring that we give to another is every too small to matter. Even the smallest act of love that we give can be the greatest thing in the world.

The Oil of Courage, Faith, Hope, and Love

 The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Emmanuel Episcopal Church

November 8, 2020

Proper 27, A

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

Matthew 25:1-13

The Oil of Courage, Faith, Hope, and Love

Keep oil in your lamps; be awake and ready for God’s kingdom coming among us at any time, in any situation.  There’s the basic lesson Jesus was teaching in his parable of the bridesmaids waiting upon the bridegroom, some of whom had extra oil for their lamps and some of whom did not, so that those who didn’t weren’t actually able to make it to the wedding feast.  

I have at times seen this as a fearful parable.  What if my oil runs out?  Oh no!  That fear certainly plays well in the world today where we seem to have messages of, never don’t be afraid, and always be on the look out for some new thing to fear.  Well, fear not.  Jesus is not adding one more thing to our list of things to fear.   Rather, Jesus is giving a loving reminder for us to remain prepared.  Keep your lamps full of oil, or as a modern Houstony example, keep your car gassed up during hurricane season.  Keep a mask at hand and on your face when you are outside of your home during this time of COVID-19.  Remain ready to accept, receive, and walk in God’s kingdom at whatever moment it may show itself or show itself again in your life.  Keep close at hand oil for your lamps, the oil of courage, faith, hope, and love.  

See, far from fear, attitudes of never don’t be afraid are the exact opposite of Jesus’ message in his parable.  If we’re always living in fear, then we are likely also always living in anger, and if we’re always living in fear and anger, then we’re not living in courage, faith, hope, and love.  Our oil lamps will have run dry.

Now, we get afraid and angry in our lives, of course we do.  We often have good reasons to be afraid and angry, but living in courage, faith, hope, and love we choose not to be overcome by that fear or anger.  We choose not to be overcome by fear or anger, because when we are overcome by fear and anger, we let the oil in our lamps run out, and we miss so many beautiful times when the bridegroom walks among us.  When we are overcome by fear and anger, the oil in our lamps runs out, and we miss when God’s kingdom happens in our lives.

Some folks have been overcome with fear and anger because Joe Biden was elected president last week, and prior to that, some folks were overcome with fear and anger when Donald Trump was elected president four years ago.  In both cases, with both our president-elect and our current president, some of our fear and anger is a natural reaction to things not going the way we want them to go.  For some, however, our fear and anger get us so worked up that our oil runs dry and we become afraid that it’s all coming to an end.  By the way, this last part about the president is quoted almost exactly from the sermon I preached four years ago:  copied, pasted, and edited.  

When we have so much fear and anger, that we lose our courage, faith, hope, and love and are instead overcome by our fear and anger, then we have let the oil in our lamps run out.  While the president and vice president do give many of us courage and hope, the source of our courage, faith, hope, and love need not be the person sitting in The White House, because the source of our courage, faith, hope, and love is a loving God in whom we have our hope, and who gives us courage and faith.  When we lose sight of God as that source that source be eclipsed by the person in The White House (or any other person) we let our oil run low and our lamps go out.  

We need our lamps lit because there is darkness in the world, and there are dark times in our lives.  Being overcome by anger and fear only adds to that darkness, and we cannot see when the bridegroom come into that darkness.  So, we keep our lamps lit to see during the times of darkness, and we keep our lamps lit by keeping them filled with the oil of courage, hope, faith, and love. 

One way some of us have been keeping our lamps lit recently is through praying daily and meeting weekly together (over Zoom) to strive for justice.  This began a couple months ago with a conference on racial justice put on by the Episcopal Health Foundation.  Several of us from Emmanuel attended the conference from our homes, sitting on Zoom calls in front of our computers, and we decided to continue meeting to pray, and discuss, and learn together how we could strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being.  Part of that work is, when we see injustice, not to be overcome by fear and anger, but to keep our lamps lit with courage, faith, hope, and love.  

One of the folks in this group shared an article with me about two pastors who strive together for justice with their lamps lit.  The Reverend William Barber and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove were unlikely friends when they met:  Jonathan, a young white man from a deeply conservative church in the heart of former Klan country and William, a black preacher who strives and works for social and racial justice.  

Jonathan was 17 at the time and associated his faith with right-wing politics, and so he went to Washington to page in Senator Strom Thurmand’s office.  “When [he] came back,” he said “[he] was very disillusioned.  [He’d] been told about how people [in Washington] were representing [their] values and standing up for Christian faith, [but that was not what he found] life in a senator’s office…to really be about. It was mostly,” he said, “about lobbyists coming in and saying what their interests were, and trying to keep wealthy people happy.”

He was rather disillusioned after that, but instead of being overcome by fear and anger, he kept his lamp lit, and shortly thereafter, he heard Reverend Barber preach at an event in North Carolina.  He said he “immediately recognized someone who shared [his] faith, but who lived it out very differently than [he] had ever seen.”  So, with all of the courage and chutzpa of an enthusiastic 17 year old, he asked Reverend Barber to speak at his upcoming graduation.   

Now, Reverend Barber had no intention of speaking at this kid’s graduation in the middle of Klan country, but he said, “Ok, if I get an invitation, I’d be glad to come.”  So he got an invitation.  At that point, put up or shut up time, he could have been overcome by fear and anger, and he was afraid, but he had given his word, so he agreed to go.  His lamp was still burning with courage, faith, hope, and love.  

He spoke at their graduation, was invited over for dinner afterwards by Jonathan’s mother, and they shared some transformative time together.  Years later, they reconnected, and they began working together for social and racial justice and healing bringing people of all races and classes together.  They’ve worked to bring greater equality and justice to the people of North Carolina, and their work continues to this day.  

What if when they had met, they had been overcome with fear or anger, and their lamps had not been lit?  They would not have seen the bridegroom.  They would not have recognized the kingdom of God coming alive in those moments, and they would have missed the opportunity to become brothers and to strive together for justice and healing.  

Thankfully, their lamps were lit, and they had a good supply of the oil of courage, faith, hope, and love.  Be not afraid, that oil told them, and they found even more courage, faith, hope, and love in each other.  

See, we can and do find oil for our lamps in each other.  Our friends and family can provide that oil.  Public figures, authors, musicians, teachers, folks who are experts in their fields of study or work can all provide us with the oil of courage, faith, hope, and love.  Additionally, those who are downtrodden and oppressed and are not overcome by fear and anger can provide us with oil.  Those who strive for justice and peace can provide us with oil for our lamps.  Even presidents and vice presidents of the United States can provide us with oil for our lamps.  

None of these people, though, need to be the source of our courage, strength, hope, and love because we believe in a higher power than any of them.  We believe in God who is the source of all courage, faith, hope, and love.  We keep the oil for our lamps full by continually reaching out to God in prayer.  We keep the oil for our lamps full through service to one another and through fellowship and joy with one another.  We keep the oil for our lamps full by seeking justice and mercy in the lives of the world around us.  

With this oil in our lamps, we can continue walking in courage even when disillusioned.  We can keep hope alive, through faith in God and the resurrection of Jesus, and we can continue to give and to live love for all people.  

That is the oil which we keep in our lamps so that come what may, in dark days and in times of joy and plenty, we are still walking in the light, ready for the many times and ways that Jesus and God’s kingdom come among us to lead us with courage into even greater hope, and faith, and love.  So fear not, and do not be overcome by fear and anger.  Through God and through countless others, through prayer, fellowship, justice, and mercy, keep your lamps full of oil and walk in the light of God’s courage, faith, hope, and love.  

When We Serve Others, They Are the Messiah to Us

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church
August 23, 2020
Proper 16, A
Exodus 1:8-2:10

Romans 12:1-8

Matthew 16:13-20

When We Serve Others, They Are the Messiah to Us

Y’all may have heard that there’s some sort of national presidential election thing coming up?  A presidential election is always an important event, but there seems to be almost messianic fervor in this election, either for Trump/Pence or for Biden/Harris.  This messianic fervor makes sense in a way; there’s a lot that is less than wonderful going on in our world right now:  COVID-19, hurricanes, economic downturn, murder hornets.  It’s little wonder that we want a messiah.  

Neither Trump/Pence nor Biden/Harrisis, however, is that messiah, and as a side note, those who support either one of them are neither evil incarnate nor stupidity incarnate.  

In our messianic fervor, however, we tend to view people that way.  We tend to see some as the messiah and others therefore as the anti-messiah, or the little “c” anti-christ.  We have a lot of deep and strong ire for those who support the one’s we don’t see as messiah, and unfortunately, we tend to act out of that ire and make the situation even worse.  In our desires to fix everything, we can end up breaking things even more.  Further, none of our little “m” messiah’s are going to actually save us all or fix everything, and deep down, we know this, and yet in the midst of chaotic and uncertain times, in our messianic fervor, we still want a messiah who will come and fix everything.

So, in the midst of our messianic fervor, who do we say the messiah is?  Who do we way Jesus is?  We say Jesus is messiah, and yet even Jesus did not fix everything the way we would want all of our little “m” messiah’s to do.    There are still problems in the world and challenges for us to overcome.  

Like us, the disciples wanted a messiah who would fix everything from their point of view, make everything the way they thought it should be.  They probably wanted a messiah who would bring about and rule over a physical kingdom, squashing their enemies and ruling with them on top, always bringing about what they knew to be right.  There would be winners and losers, those with power and those without power.  

That’s not the kind of Messiah Jesus was or is.

An illustration of the kind of messiah Jesus is came in a picture I saw on a friend’s Facebook page last week.  It was a picture of a sign posted in a church.  The sign read:

“Warning:  Articles of value should not be left on seats whilst receiving holy Communion.”

There were a variety of reactions to this church sign, and there were a couple of comments of, “Sad,” and “Well, that is kind of sad.”

The idea was, “How terrible that this would happen in a church.”  “We’re supposed to be better than that.”  “How could people who would steal be in a church?”  Is a church in which, “articles of value should not be left on seats whilst receiving holy communion,” the kind of church of a messiah.  Is that the kind of church Jesus had in mind when he said, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it?”  Why yes, I believe it is.

A couple of other comments on that picture of “Warning:  Articles of value should not be left on seats whilst receiving holy Communion,” were:

We [the church] are a collection of screw ups...slowly transformed by walking together with Jesus...and we’re still a bunch of screw ups.

Another wrote:

I only want to be in a church where there’s a sign like this. It means all sorts and conditions of people are there to hear the gospel!!!

Still another wrote:

Too many times we want everyone else around us to be perfect.

We forget that a church is supposed to be a place where people come for healing, for hope, for redemption, for restoration, for love, [and] for grace

Sad? Absolutely not! …That church with that [warning] sign…[is] doing exactly what Jesus is doing: meeting people in their mess, in their imperfection and still loving them and giving them room to be transformed by the love and grace of Jesus Christ.

Room to be transformed by the love and grace of Jesus Christ, that’s what we need from our messiah, and that’s what Peter had in his walk with Jesus.  He was transformed over years from a fisherman who kept on screwing up in his walk with Jesus, to the rock on which Jesus founded the church, who still screwed up from time to time.  Peter learned that having a messiah didn’t mean he was going to rule or to be served, but that he was going to be healed and strengthened so that he could serve, so that he could be a blessing. 

Who do we say Jesus is?  Is Jesus the one who makes us perfect so that we can be around other perfect people?  Nah.  That’s not who Jesus is, and that’s not what the church is.  The church is the broken, the beaten, the blessed, and the damned, people who need healing, gathering together for strength and support.  The church is people who are imperfectly following Jesus and receiving his love and grace, to be healed and blessed in order to bless others.

Neither presidential candidate is going to do that.  Neither is going to fix everything, and doing so is not what the messiah is in the first place.

You want to see the Messiah?  Don’t look to the one who is going to fix everything for you.  Look to those who help heal people in order that they may be a blessing to others.  There are all kinds of ways we can heal each other.  A kind word, a gentle touch.  Having compassion on and sticking with people in their challenges.  Sometimes it is helping others with their physical needs, or letting someone else help us with ours.  Sometimes people are blessings to us when they help us see our own faults so that we stop viewing others as the problem. 

If you want to see the Messiah, look to the helpers, as Mr. Rogers said, and if you want to see the Messiah, look to the ones whom you can help.  Matthew 25:31-46 tells us that we encounter Jesus in the hungry when we help feed them.  We encounter Jesus in the lonely and imprisoned when we visit them.  We encounter Jesus in the sick when we help care for them.  Being of service to others doesn’t make us the messiah.  When we are of service to others, we encounter them as the messiah.  When we are of service to others, we get out of our own minds, out of our own troubles and worries, and instead of being overwhelmed by our own challenges, we get to be a blessing.  Blessing others helps save us.  

Who do we say Jesus is?  Who do we say the messiah is?  The messiah is the one or the ones who heal us and save us often from ourselves, by drawing out of us the power we have with God to be a blessing to others.  The messiah helps heal us and helps us to see each other as fellow messed up people in need of healing.  The messiah helps us not to fix or change each other, but with God’s help to heal and bless each other, giving each other room and time to be transformed by the love and grace of Jesus.

Fumbling In the Dark

Brad Sullivan

2 Epiphany, Year A

January 14, 2017

Emmanuel, Houston

John 1:29-42

Fumbling In the Dark

Repentance leads to seeing Jesus.  That is what I heard in our Gospel story this morning, as John was declaring Jesus to be the Lamb of God, the one who would take away the sins of the world.  John said that he came baptizing so that Jesus would be revealed to Israel.  Now John came with a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, and his doing so led to Jesus being revealed as God’s son after he was baptized by John.  This baptism of repentance led to a revelation of Jesus, seeing him as more than a carpenter’s son, but as the Son of God who has saved the world from their sins.  For us, repentance leads to seeing Jesus as well and being guided by the light of Jesus, without which, without Jesus, we’re fumbling in the dark.

We may not feel like we’re fumbling in the dark.  We’re so often guided, after all, our own lights, one of which being the light of some truth that we hold.  Guided by our own lamps of truth, it’s little wonder we end up fumbling in the dark, especially considering how vitriolic our lamps of truth have become as of late.  We know that we are right, or even if not completely sure of our own correctness, we know with absolute certainty that the other side is wrong.  That vitriol, that certainty in our own truth leaves us fumbling in the dark..

Jesus is the light of the world, the light of God, we’re told in the first chapter of John, and we’re told that Jesus came with grace and truth.  Jesus came with truth, and we tend to hold onto that truth as best we understand it, especially when we’re fumbling in the dark.  Even more than the light of Jesus’ truth, however, we need the  light of Jesus’ grace. 

Jesus’ grace didn’t demand total understanding of truth from people.  Jesus spent time with a lot of people who certainly didn’t seem to have truth wrapped up particularly well.  Jesus was called a friend of sinners, and as such he didn’t lambast or lecture them.  He had dinner with them.  When he saw people fumbling in the dark, he gave them grace and love to be their light along with his truth.

Jesus came with grace to see us as fumbling in the dark as well, doing our best as we walk along the well worn paths of our lives, when we’re often not even guided by light anymore, but simply by repetition, following in the same old paths, the same old ways that we can follow with our eyes closed, ways that don’t lead anywhere good, but ways which we know so well that they just feel right.  Jesus came with grace enough to give us light so that when we repent, when we turn from those well worn paths toward a new path, we have light to follow in the way of Jesus.  

Back in high school, I believed I was following in the way of Jesus.  I’d grown up a Christian my whole life, and I knew nothing but the truth.  I knew about the Gospel and about Jesus.  He was the truth, and that was that.  So, at times back in high school, I ended up following a particular path, a path called:  moral superiority and mocking of liberals and various morally unacceptable people in the guise of righteously upholding Jesus and Christian values.  It felt like truth.  It was really just bullying.

My views on various things changed over the years.  Various truths changed, but I still believed in Jesus.  In my late teens and early twenties, I began to repent of the ways I had been walking, so certain of my truth that I could denigrate others for not holding the same truth. 

Then, in seminary, I found myself agreeing with some of the more liberal views on several issues, especially the hot button issues of the time.  I was sickened, however, at how the opposing views, views which I had previously held, were not really welcome on campus.  The goal of Virginia Theological Seminary was for all views to be welcome, but in practice, VTS was following the same path I had followed back in high school, though at VTS it was called:  intellectual superiority and mocking of conservatives and various morally unacceptable beliefs in the guise of love and respect for all people.  It felt like truth to those on that path.  It was really just bullying.

Those of us who have been on that path, the path of (assumed) truth without grace, believe our own beliefs to be right and afford little or no grace to those with opposing views. When I have been on that path, I was blinded.  I knew where I wanted to go.  I knew the end, what was right, where we should all (I assumed) go as a society, but getting there, I was fumbling in the dark. 

Repenting of that certainty, that truth without grace, I found myself less certain about where I was going, but more confident in how I was getting there, guided by the light of Jesus. 

Over the last week, I realized that I again needed to repent from walking that same, well worn path of self-righteous, supposed truth.  My supposed truth without grace was in the belief that the wrong candidate had won the presidential election.  I wasn’t really excited about Hilary, but I was so turned off by Trump’s rhetoric and seeming character flaws.  I knew I was right and the other side was wrong, until I finally really listened to my cousin, a Trump supporter, and I realized how self-righteous I had been in my belief.  Supposed truth without grace and bullying had become my path again, and I was wrong. I needed to repent of that path and let the light of Jesus be revealed to me once again. 

My less than stellar views of our president elect didn’t change, but I can hold those views more lightly now.  I may very well be wrong.  He may be exactly what this country needs.  More importantly, having repented of the path of supposed truth without grace, I can follow Jesus again when he says to his disciples, “come and see”, rather than be deaf to his invitation or too caught up in thinking myself right even to care.  In my supposed truth without grace, I was blind to Jesus all around me.  I was blind to Jesus in people all around me.  I was wrong.  I needed to repent of that path.  I’m guessing I’m the only one.

Here’s what I think now regarding the election, and I offer these thoughts for all of those still struggling with the decisions or the reactions of those on the other side.  People made the best choices they could with the information they had and the information which they were able to believe.  Folks on both sides of this thing have asked, “how could you possibly have voted for [this candidate], knowing [this terrible thing] about them.”  How could you be so stupid or immoral as to vote for whichever candidate?  That’s about the sentiment I’ve heard quite often.  Now, not wanting the other candidate to win is pretty normal, but good gracious, it seems that an awful lot of people on both sides viewed the other candidate as the latest incarnation of Satan. Some even thought the comparison gave Satan a bad name.

How could either side vote for a candidate who seemed so horribly flawed to the other side?  Well, it’s really kind of simple.  Our brains will only allow us so much cognitive dissonance before they begin jettisoning some bad information (or assuming it to be false) so that they can handle and align what we do with what we believe.

Adding to differences of policy off, folks were fearfully and (strongly) against Trump because of what he’d said and done/reportedly done.  They saw a particular character emerge from the information given, a character which could not be supported.  Folks who were against Hillary, saw a similarly deficient character emerge based on what Hillary had said and done/reportedly done, a character which could not be supported. 

Both groups did the best they could with the information they had, and many within both groups had to ignore/gloss over, or explain away some of the more troubling aspects of each candidates’ character.  Regarding the truth of either candidate and the soundness of a vote for either, we’re all fumbling in the darkness, doing our best with very limited knowledge of truth.  We have incomplete truth.  We can’t have anything but incomplete truth. 

Grace, on the other hand, well that we have in abundance, and grace is something we can give in abundance.  Many want us to come together as people, as the body of Christ, and we need to.  We need to give each other grace with our competing, incomplete truths, grace enough to say, “I truly believe you were doing the best you could.” 

Otherwise both sides of any issue continue to walk on well worn paths that feel like truth, but which are really just bullying.  When we’re on those paths, no matter how certain we are, we’re blind, our paths lighted only by the darkness of certainty and truth without grace which end up leaving us fumbling in the darkness of bullying. 

Repenting of that path, we can see Jesus again.  Turning toward Jesus, with his light to guide us, we don’t always know exactly where we are going, or where we’ll end up, but we do know the way.  Jesus is the way.   With the grace of Jesus and restored relationships to guide us, we travel together toward an uncertain future, secure not in the destination, secure not in the end, but secure in each other, and secure in the grace of Jesus to guide us.