...and Heaven & Earth were Joined

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
January 4, 2025
2 Christmas
Ephesians 1:3-6,15-19a
Psalm 84:1-8
Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23

God became human and lived among us. Forgiveness and reconciliation were revealed as the way of God among us. Love and service of others were shown as the life of God lived among us, and heaven and earth were joined.

When God was born among us, the baby Jesus, born to a young woman named Mary and her husband, Joseph. They were a couple of teenagers, probably 14 or 15, who had been promised to each other in marriage by their parents. It seems to have been a good match. They had other children together after Jesus was born. They were faithful to God’s call on their lives, and they were faithful in following God’s ways and God’s laws even before Jesus was born. They were good parents, and heaven and earth were joined.

Then, a couple years after Jesus was born, Israel’s mad king thought he might take his throne, and so he plotted to assassinate Jesus and his parents. They fled their country, becoming political refugees, and fled to Egypt. Then, when the king died, they went back to Israel, no longer seeking asylum in a foreign land. Still, felt that they were in danger near the capital of Israel, in the area of Judea, so they went to the region of Galilee, to the town of Nazareth, and heaven and earth were joined. 

We’re still in the season of Christmas, “the hap-happiest season of all”, and we’re not telling the story of the baby in the manger, the shepherds with their flocks, or the angels singing, “glory in the highest heaven.” We’re in “the most wonderful time of the year,” telling a story of attempted assassination. Happy Christmas.

It’s not all bad news, I promise. Have any of you ever been a part of a worship service where the music was playing, the congregation was all joined in together in singing and in prayer, and you could feel the Holy Spirit among you? Heaven and earth are joined, and God’s spirit is with us in worship and in prayer. 

Have you been with a group of friends, enjoying one another’s company, having a grand old time, and also felt God’s presence among you? Heaven and earth are joined, and God’s spirit is with us in love and fellowship.

Then, have you ever been with someone in times of sadness and mourning, you’ve supported them, or been supported when you were mourning. In those times too, God’s presence was felt among you. Heaven and earth are joined, and God’s spirit is with us in the times of loss, in the care and support we give one another. 

Heaven and earth are not only joined in the good times, and God is not only with us when we pray. Jesus and his parents fled an assassination attempt by a mad king and fled as refugees to Egypt. Heaven and earth were joined then, too. We get to tell this story of exile and murder during the happiest time of the year because God is with us even in the death and destruction we cause, and that is reason to rejoice. 

Anglican bishop and author N.T. Wright notes in his latest book, The Vision of Ephesians, that Christians often miss the joyful reality of God with us. According to Christian Post reporter Leah M. Klett, Bishop Wright believes that many Christians have totally misunderstood our faith. Instead of seeing Christianity of God joining with humanity, instead of seeing heaven and earth as joined, many have been taught to think of salvation as escaping the earth, getting to go to Heaven when we die. 

https://www.christianpost.com/books/nt-wright-why-western-christians-have-misread-heaven.html

Jesus is not a portal for good little Christians to flee through once they’re dead. Jesus is the physical joining of God with humanity. Jesus is the cosmic union of God and creation. Jesus is Emmanuel, “God is with us,” or do we really think we live in a world devoid of God’s presence, with God only waiting for us to die so we can be with him? Are our lives really just a proving ground to get to heaven? Are we really just trying to have faith, so that our souls can escape this earth once we’re dead?

That’s not the story of scripture. That’s not the story of the Gospel in the Christian scriptures. The Gospel is the story of God coming to us, not us leaving to go to God. God became human. God joined humanity in our physical bodies. 

The idea of a soul as something different from our bodies isn’t a particularly Jewish or early Christian idea. That’s an ancient Greek and Roman idea. The Gospel is not that faithful enough Christians get to leave the world once they die. The Gospel is that heaven and earth are joined. 

We believe not that we will leave, but that Jesus will return. Heaven and earth have been joined, and at the end of the ages, God will finish this work, and all evil will be destroyed, and all things will be made new.

“The Church,” Bishop Wright says, “is called to be…the small working model of new creation.” We are here to live this new creation as best we can, which we can only do if God truly is with us. If God truly is with us, then, as Paul points out, our battles are not against one another, but against spiritual forces of wickedness, and so we’re told to put on the Armor of God, which is almost totally defensive. 

Bishop Wright points out that many Christians think of this spiritual battle as one we must fight, and that we must constantly fight the demonic. The greater struggle, however, is how so many Christians claim to see the demonic in so many people and groups of people around them. The greater struggle, Wright says, is believing people are our enemies when they are not. That’s what Herod did to Jesus.

Paul said our struggles are with cosmic powers, not with one another, and that doesn’t mean that everything bad is demonic. Everything and everyone that bothers us is not demonic. Herod trying to assassinate Jesus was not demonic. It was the sad actions of a tiny, scared little man.

When we see demons and evil everywhere, we live into this notion that the point of the Gospel is to escape a terrible earth and go to Heaven instead. That’s not the Gospel. The truth of the Gospel is that Heaven and earth are joined. 

Rather than seeing demons everywhere, see God everywhere. God was there when Jesus and his parents fled for their lives. Heaven and earth were joined. Demons didn’t seek to kill Jesus, a scared little man did.

God is there when people beat, rape, steal from, and kill one another. That’s not the demonic fighting humans. When people beat, rape, steal from, and kill one another, that’s humans fighting God. Heaven and earth are joined, and whatever we do to one another we do to God who became human. We don’t get to pin that on demons. That’s on us. 

Humans do terrible things to one another, and our fight is not with one another, but with those terrible things that we do. We are meant to be, we are meant to live as God’s new creation. Heaven and earth are joined, and so we are meant to see God among us. In the good times and in the bad, we are walking among God with heaven all around us. Heaven and earth are joined. Happy Christmas.

Remember Who You Are: God's Beloved People

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
December 14, 2025
3 Advent, A
James 5:7-10
The Song of Mary Magnificat - Luke 1:46-55
Matthew 11:2-11

So, John the Baptist doesn’t seem to have been overly happy when he had his disciples go to Jesus and ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Jahn was in prison because Israel’s tiny, authoritarian, narcissistic king, Herod, had put John in prison for telling him the truth. Herod had married someone whom it was against the Jewish law for him to marry. When John told him that, Herod found John treasonous, and he wanted to have John killed immediately, but he chickened out and simply had him imprisoned instead. John was a political prisoner of a small and morally bankrupt king who even wanted to have sex with his stepdaughter, we find out later. 

John was understandably pretty upset at this point. It was hard times for Israel under Roman occupation. There was trauma, constant stress and fear, and it seemed like the whole world was against them. In that time of trauma, stress, and fear, John had given everything, his whole life to the idea that Israel’s messiah was coming and that Jesus was this savior who would rescue Israel from Rome, who would rescue Israel from their terrible and corrupt king. Then, as it turned out, John was imprisoned by this terrible and corrupt king, Rome still ruled over Israel, and Jesus didn’t seem to be doing anything about it. 

So, John wondered, “Have I been backing the wrong horse?” Is Jesus really the Messiah I have been claiming him to be? Have I been a fool, and am I here in prison for nothing? “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” John had his disciples ask Jesus. Behind that question was another question. “Are you gonna get me out of jail or not?” 

Jesus answered by telling John’s disciples to tell John what they saw. In short, people were being healed, and behind Jesus’ answer was, “No, John. I am not going to break you out of prison.” The messiah has come, and you are not going to see some world altering, monumental shift in the balance of power and world order. In fact, if you’re not concerned with the lives of the people around you, you may not notice much at all that the messiah has come.

Jesus helped, he served, he saved people, but he didn’t rule over the earth as a good-natured tyrant. He didn’t kill. He didn’t destroy. He didn’t force others follow his way and his will. That wasn’t the way of the people of Israel. God didn’t force the people to follow his way and his will. God offered his way and his will to Israel and told them that things would be better for them if they followed.

Sometimes they did, and things were generally better. Sometimes they didn’t, and things tended to be worse. In the dark times, those who stayed true to who they were as God’s people were the ones who found the light. 

So, when Jesus assured John that he wasn’t going to break him out of prison, and when Jesus told John that he was the messiah because people were being healed and the poor had good news brought to them, he was also telling John, remember who you are. 

John didn’t spend his life training people to become merciless killers so they could destroy Rome and kill king Herod. John spent his life reminding people of who they were: God’s people. John ministered to people in the desert, reminding them to follow God’s will and God’s way. That was how he prepared for the messiah to come, helping the people of Israel walk faithfully with God. John prepared for the messiah to come by guiding people to love God, to love others, and to let all of their actions flow from those two great loves. 

It should not have been a terribly great surprise then, that when the messiah did come, the way that he saved people was pretty darn similar. Love God. Love people. “What do you see, John? You see me loving God and loving people. With all the mighty power of God within me, you see me loving God and loving people. That’s how you know I’m the messiah.” 

So, I can imagine John being disappointed. Perhaps he was expecting something different: fires and earthquakes, floods and wars, and other apocalyptic craziness. Jesus didn’t bring that. Instead, he assured John that he was the messiah because he was healing people and giving them the good news that God is with them, even in the bad times, and that was Jesus’ message for John as well. “God is still with you, John. So do not despair, and do not lose sight of who you are.”

When we are in the midst of despair, we can lose sight of who we are. During hard times, with trauma, constant stress and fear, during times when it seems like everything is going wrong in the world, like everything is against us, Jesus is reminding us not to lose sight of who we are. We are beloved. We are God’s beloved, and we are made to be loved by God and one another, and we are made to love God and to love one another. We are made to join together in healing the hurts of the world. That’s who the people of Israel are.

When Jesus told John’s disciples that he was healing people and bringing them the good news that they are God’s beloved, he was reminding John of exactly what John had been reminding others of when he baptized them in the wilderness. We are God’s people made to heal the hurts of the world. So no, John, don’t wait for another. Remember who you are. 

Like the people of Israel, we too, as Jesus’ disciples, have been formed to help heal the hurts of the world. That’s hard to do in times of trauma, stress, and fear, feeling like everything is going wrong in the world or that the world is against us, and during those dark times, Jesus reminds us even more strongly to remember who we are: God’s beloved, made to love, made to heal the hurts of the world. During those dark times, we are reminded to seek help from Jesus, to stay true to who we are, trusting that we will find the light.

Even in the current darkness, our way is lit by love God and love people. That’s how we know where we’re going. That’s how we know Jesus is the messiah. We don’t need fires, earthquakes, wars, floods, or other apocalyptic craziness; we have quite enough craziness right now, thank you very much. 

So no, we don’t need to wait for another. We can follow Jesus and do what he did.

We may not get what we’re hoping for. John died in prison, but he died being the light. He died remembering who he was, God’s beloved, formed to help heal the hurts of the world. Whenever and wherever that healing happens, the messiah is here, and the savior reigns. Even in the darkness, whenever and wherever healing happens, the messiah is here, and the savior reigns.

Do You Feel Particularly Saved?

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets, Houston
March 16, 2025
2 Lent, C
Philippians 3:17-4:1
Psalm 27
Luke 13:31-35

“Run, Jesus! Run for your life! Herod’s trying to kill you!” The Pharisees warned Jesus, and Jesus replied, “Aww, y’all are so cute.” That’s not an exact quote, a little poetic license, but the idea is there. The Pharisees were almost certainly lying to Jesus. They were the ones who wanted Jesus to stop his preaching, not Herod. Even when Jesus was arrested, Herod saw Jesus as a curiosity and sent him back to Pilate for judgment. 

So, the Pharisees wanted Jesus to stop preaching, they gave a B.S. death threat to get him to quit, and Jesus saw right through their lie, calling their bluff, saying essentially, “If Herod wants to kill me, here’s where I’ll be, and I’m not going to stop.” That much they understood. What they probably didn’t understand was that Jesus was telling them, “Not to worry, I am going to be killed shortly after I ride into Jerusalem.”

Jesus knew that continuing on with his preaching and healing ministry was going to get him killed, and yet, he persisted. He went to the cross, not hiding from it, knowing that his teaching and way of life was the very thing that was going to get him killed. He continued on, accepting the cross, rather than living as an enemy of the cross.

That’s how Paul referred to people who wouldn’t live according to the ways and teaching of Jesus, “enemies of the cross.” “Their minds are set on earthly things,” Paul wrote. The whole idea of the cross, of personal suffering for the sake of others is beyond them. So, while they may give to others, they won’t do so if it brings any personal suffering. 

“Take up your cross,” Jesus said. “Lose your life for my sake.” That doesn’t just mean physical death. Give up your egos. Give up our need to be right. Give up your need to be justified, compensated, avenged. Let those things go, seek God’s will, and say, “Father, forgive them.”

Living as an enemy of the cross, on the other hand, means choosing one’s own power to force one’s way in the world. Had Jesus been an enemy of the cross, he would have unleashed all the power of God to destroy those who would have killed him. Had be been an enemy of the cross, Jesus would have denied forgiveness and chosen wrath. Rather than forgive all, he would have chosen to justify himself and his way by condemning all who did not live according to his way. I’m pretty sure that would have been most, if not all of us. 

As an enemy of the cross, Jesus would have used his power to gain more power and still more power, not serving the poor and those in need, but punishing those who did not. As an enemy of the cross, he would not have made himself friends with sinners, but he would have joined with those who considered themselves righteous, and he would have joined in their self-righteous glory. He would have stayed in an ivory tower, looking down upon the lowly with scorn. As an enemy of the cross, Jesus would have considered things like empathy for other people a weakness, and weakness is something an enemy of the cross cannot abide.

An enemy of the cross would follow the temptations of the Devil, choosing power over others, forcing one’s will and one’s way on others. Even if that way is the way of Jesus, forcing that way on others is not the way of Jesus. Folks in the church did that to the indigenous people of this land, likely thinking that the indigenous people were enemies of the cross, never realizing that by forcing Christianity, they themselves were living as enemies of the cross. Might makes right? Not according to the way of Jesus. Might makes right is an enemy of the cross, and the way of an enemy of the cross leads to destruction.

Even with faith in Jesus, the way of an enemy of the cross leads to destruction. Even with faith in Jesus, the way of might makes right leads to destruction. Even with faith in Jesus, the way of coercion and forcing one’s will on others leads to destruction. Even with faith in Jesus, looking down upon the lowly and rejecting empathy leads to destruction.

Paul was clear in his letters, as was Jesus in his teaching, that faith, without the way of the cross, is dead. James actually wrote the words, “Faith without works is dead,” but you can see the truth of those words throughout Paul’s writing and Jesus’ teaching. 

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord’, will enter the kingdom of heaven,” Jesus said, “but only one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” (Matthew 7:21) “Imitate me,” Paul wrote, “and observe those who live according to the example you have in us.” (Philippians 3:17)

Our faith in Jesus is lovely and good, but without following Jesus’ way of life, our faith withers. Discipleship, walking in the way of Jesus is what give our faith life to transform our lives and the lives of those around us. 

Does that mean shouting at others about our faith? Nope. Loving, forgiving, helping, that is the way of Jesus, the way of the cross. When we follow the way of the cross, we give up our power and live as servants. 

Living as servants, following the way of the cross when we see so much in the world that needs fixing. Overcome by it all, we may find ourselves alone shouting into the darkness. We may find ourselves being tempted as Jesus was, seeking power to force our will on others, but that is living as an enemy of the cross. We shout in the darkness when we are overcome by the problems in the world, and then we join with others, building one another up in love. 

We leave our despair at the foot of the cross and accept the death that the cross brings. The many deaths that happen in our lives: the death of might makes right; the death of coercion and force; the death of scorn for others; even one day, our physical deaths. We accept the way of the cross, and we find salvation, dwelling under the shelter of Jesus wings, gathering us as a hen gathers her chicks. Salvation, dwelling together under Jesus wings, dwelling forever the in peace, love, and unity of God. That is the way of the cross.

Living as an enemy of the cross, is a life that is also seeking salvation, but it is a life of anger, a life of wrath, a life of fear. Living as an enemy of the cross is a life of choosing to get yours over others. To hell with anyone else, I’m gonna get mine. 

In times of following that path of “I’m gonna get mine,” do you feel particularly saved?

Do you, instead, feel alone and even more fearful of losing what you have?

That’s what the Pharisees felt, afraid of losing what they had, and so they wanted to silence Jesus. Jesus said, “No, I choose the way of the cross,” and Jesus invites us to live the way of the cross as well. Letting go our fears, accepting our many deaths, and joining with others in love, we find shelter in the shadow of Jesus’ wings, as he gathers us like a mother hen gathering her chicks. 

The Only Threat We Face from Jesus: Greater Peace and Love.

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets, Houston

January 5, 2025

2 Christmas, C

Isaiah 61:10-62:3

Psalm 84

Matthew 2:1-12

King Herod feared that his power was going to be taken from him. He was king over Israel, but he was not accepted as much of a king by many because his Jewishness was in doubt by some. His family had been forcibly converted decades before, so there were questions. Was he truly Jewish in his heart, or was he just claiming to be Jewish because by doing so he got to remain as king. We don’t really know his heart, but we do know that his kingship was in question by some and his kingdom was under Roman rule, so his hold on power was not as strong as he would have liked. 

With this challenging political atmosphere, there suddenly arrived these foreign, mystic, astrologer type folks, these magi from the east, who came to Herod claiming the birth of a new Jewish king. Ok, it’s one thing if some of Herod’s subject claim a new king was born. He could just imprison them or kill them, but for people from another country to come to him claiming a new Jewish king has been born, well that means that potentially an entire other nation believes that Herod is no longer king of Israel, but that this new baby is now the Jewish king instead of Herod. 

Now, Herod was at least Jewish enough to know that the prophets had foretold the birth of a Messiah, one who would be the forever king to replace all other kings. Herod knew that this baby, whom foreigners were claiming to be King of the Jews, might have been this God-anointed forever-king, and rather than figure, “Cool, that’s God’s will; let’s go with this,” Herod wanted to keep his power and therefore wanted to kill Jesus. 

He lied to the Magi, telling them he wanted to pay homage to Jesus, and as we find just after the portion of the Gospel we heard today, Herod indeed tried to kill Jesus. Fear had a tight grip on Herod.

“Keep my power,” Herod thought. Even if it goes against God’s will. Even if I have to kill a baby to do it. “Keep my power.” 

Herod is, of course, not the only person to live in fear and do terrible things to try to keep his power. On new year’s day, a man killed at least 14 people in New Orleans, and he was trying to kill a whole lot more. We’re not sure what power he wanted to keep, but we can bet there was some kind of power he felt he or others no longer had. Terrorists kill to try to get power back from those they feel have taken it from them.

Look at our political elections where people routinely lie and intentionally just make stuff up in order to win elections and keep power. People in business spend countless millions of dollars to influence laws and regulations so that their businesses get to keep their power, their market share, their profit. People who are angry at another will fight, steal from, and even kill to keep or reclaim their power. 

Like Herod, when it comes to keeping our power, there seems no limit to what we humans are willing to do. “We wouldn’t kill babies, of course,” we tell ourselves, “not like Herod.” Well, if we lived in Herod’s day, raised by Herod’s parents, and in that precarious kingship like Herod, we may well have tried to kill Jesus just like Herod did.

For those who are still sure that they wouldn’t have done that, the point is not whose sin is worse than whose. The point is, all of us are in the grip of fear, and all of us fight against God’s will in order to keep our power. Every single person in this world fights against God’s will in order to keep their power, and even more importantly, this is the world, and we are the people God chose to save. 

There must be something pretty darn fantastic about us if God chose to save us in this world, as this world is, and as we are, constantly fighting God’s will to keep our power, God chose to save us, and to do so, God became one of us. 

Amidst all of our crud, and we’ve got a lot of crud, we must, at our core, be pretty fantastic indeed if God chose to become one of us. We lie, we cheat, we steal, and yet God sees something in us that is astoundingly beautiful. God sees something in us far more beautiful than we can know or see. I daresay, if we saw what God sees, then we might wouldn’t be so terrible to one another. 

Perhaps, if we saw what God sees in one another, then we wouldn’t be so keen to hold onto power or to wrest power away from others. We might forgive a little easier, be a little slower to anger, assume something better than the worst in others, if we could see just how wonderful God sees us all being. 

I have a feeling that if we could see what God sees, we’d be blown away by how much bigger and more beautiful this world is, how much bigger and more beautiful this life is than we can know and see. Our hearts would be filled with the love and peace of God, and we would no longer be afraid. Seeing this world and this life as God sees it, we would no longer be afraid of losing our power, because we’d see that all of our power is contained within God’s power. We would no longer be afraid even of losing our lives, because we would see that our lives are all contained within God’s life. 

That is the love and peace Jesus had as he lost all earthly power and as he lost his life on the cross. Jesus could see his power and his life bound up together within God’s power and life, and so Jesus was at peace. He wasn’t happy about being killed; he didn’t love it, but he was at peace. 

The times when we find Jesus seemingly not at peace are not the times when people tried to take his power, but the times when Jesus saw us taking one another’s power, treating one another terribly. That’s when Jesus wasn’t at peace, when he saw people harming one another. That’s because he sees us as we truly are. He sees the life and beauty within us that we are so often too blinded by fear to see. Where Jesus sees a beautiful and beloved brother or sister, we often see a threat, like Herod did.

A beautiful baby was born, the beauty of scripture was fulfilled, and a life of hope and promise was brought into this wonderful world, and all Herod saw was a threat. 

Jesus, of course, wasn’t a threat. He wasn’t a threat to Herod, to his rule, or to his power. Jesus wasn’t trying take any of that way from Herod. No, the only threat Jesus posed to Herod was that if he had still been alive when Jesus began his ministry, Herod might have heard Jesus’ teachings, seen Jesus’ miracles, believed in Jesus’ and changed his ways to follow the way, the truth, and the life of Jesus. I daresay, Herod would have found a great deal of peace and love if he had done that. 

Finding greater peace and love, that’s the only threat we face from Jesus as well. If we choose to believe in him, if we choose to follow him as the way, the truth, and the life, then we just might find greater peace and love within ourselves. Doing so will change our lives, change our ways. We may give up or give away some of our power for the sake of others. We may find peace enough not to constantly try to wrest power from others. 

Our lives do indeed change when we choose to believe in Jesus and follow Jesus. We begin to see others as he sees us. We begin to see the world as he sees it. Fear begins to lose its hold on us, and we fall instead into the arms of peace and love. That’s the threat that Jesus poses to us. No taking our place, no taking our power, just falling into the arms of peace and love.

We Don't Have to Live That Way

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets
July 14, 2024
Proper 10, B
Amos 7:7-15
Psalm 85:8-13
Mark 6:14-29

King Herod had a right rough time of it, didn’t he? He was king of an occupied nation; semi-autonomous, kinda; and he was supposed to be leading his people according to the ways of God, even as he was trying to keep Rome happy and the people from rising up against Rome. He of course, then had his courtiers and officials to placate, his influence to maintain, all of which was meant to help him lead his people well according to the ways of God…giving Herod the benefit of the doubt.

With the pressure of all of those forces upon him, Herod seemed to be straying a bit from the ways of God. He wasn’t supposed to have married his brother’s wife, but hey, he was king. He had a lot of pressures on him. He had to be given some slack with such a big job. Then, when his wife wanted John imprisoned, well, he had to go along with what she wanted. He couldn’t have a split in his royal household, could he? How would that look to Rome and to his courtiers and officials? So then finally, when he gave his oath to Herodias’ daughter for anything she wanted and she asked for John’s head, how could he refuse? He had the pressures of all of these forces weighing on him, and John was, after all, just one weirdo, poor-boy prophet with no power or stature to compete with the powerful people of influence all around Herod. 

So, he had John executed for peacefully speaking out against the crown, beheaded on the whim of a young alluring girl and her mom. Trying to lead his people well, amidst so many powerful forces and the pressure of everything weighing on him, he led his people further down the path of destruction, going ever further from the ways of God in order to keep his people free to follow the ways of God. Oddly enough, God wasn’t particularly fond of that approach.

As with kings hundreds of years before him, God wasn’t overly fond of the powerful oppressing the week for the sake of some perceived greater good. If only Herod could keep the powerful and influential happy with him, then he’d have power enough to do the right things for Israel. Rather than be a light to those powerful and influential people, showing them a better way, and maybe disappointing them, however, Herod chose injustice and oppression. 

In the days of the prophet Amos, kings of Israel had been doing the same thing, and God had had enough of it then too. Amos starts with God’s indictments against. The nations around Israel, followed by an indictment against Israel herself, for the injustice and oppression she had been living. We heard part of God’s words against Israel for her injustice through the prophet Amos today. “See, I am setting a plumb line in the midst of my people Israel; I will never again pass them by; the high places of Isaac shall be made desolate, and the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste, and I will rise against the house of Jeroboam with the sword.”

The king and the priest weren’t real thrilled with hearing that, and they threatened Amos. John wasn’t the first prophet who was condemned for speaking out against the injustices and atrocities of people in power, and Herod wasn’t the first leader to bow to the pressure upon him and do terrible things. He certainly wasn’t the last.

So, what about us and our lives? I think most of us could find plenty of leaders and rulers nowadays and apply this lesson to them. We could find all sorts of Herods doing all sorts of terrible things, turning away from the ways of God and following the ways of injustice, oppression, and bowing to pressures all around. I’d further guess that folks all along the political spectrum could hear my words thus far 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 our governmental powers. They all have their place in seeking justice and wellbeing for all, but when I look for how to heal damage from the Herods in our world beheading the John the Baptists in our world, I don’t look to our government because Jesus didn’t set up our government to live out God’s mission in the world. Jesus set up his church to live out God’s mission. 

Jesus sent the Holy Spirit to us and to all of God’s church to live out God’s mission of justice, peace, reconciliation, and love. 

The work is ours to do with God’s help. Our challenges in doing the work are many. The pressures on us all are many. Families to care for. Jobs. Places to live. Much to lose. Friends and co-workers, family, neighbors, whom we want to keep good relationships with, and living out the work of God’s mission of justice, peace, reconciliation, and love can have challenges for all of that.

Heck, I offered a prayer on Facebook last night, which I almost never do. At this point, I tend to reserve Facebook for the proverbial cat videos, just offering something lighthearted and fun. After the assassination attempt on former president Trump last night, I offered prayers for him, giving thanks that he was ok, prayers for all who were keeping people safe, prayers for those who had died, and even prayers for the shooter. Prayers for peace, for love, and for healing. 

I got one comment on the prayer, which noted that I hadn’t offered prayers after the hurricane and other recent events, and so I was turning Trump into an idol. Now, I understand what he was saying. There’s a lot of folks who seem to think that if their candidate doesn’t win, the world will crumble. That’s not why I was offering that prayer. It was not about supporting Trump or not supporting Trump. I offered the prayer because I wanted to help lead people in prayer, particularly with so much anger and animosity in the nation today.

When I offered that prayer, I wasn’t turning Trump into an idol. In fact, the man who tried to kill Trump turned himself into an idol. The gunman had pressure on him. He apparently thought a Trump presidency wouldn’t be good, and he felt the pressure of that so intensely, that he went Herod’s route. He felt the world would be terrible if it didn’t go the way he knew was right, and so he decided to force his way on the world. It's not his world. It wasn’t Herod’s world. It’s not any of our world.

Whoever wins the presidency, I’m pretty sure it’s still gonna be God’s world. Our faith is in God, not in any presidential candidate, not in any government, and certainly not in ourselves to force our will and our way onto the world. That would be to turn ourselves into idols, which is what Herod did.

Faced with pressures from Rome, pressures from his own people, pressures from his family, pressures from his officers and courtiers, Herod decided to kill a man so that he could keep his own power and influence to try to make as much of the world go the way he wanted as possible. 

Where do we find good news in this story of Herod’s self-idolatry? We find good news in Herod being a dark, opposite reflection of the good news. We realize, we don’t have to live as Herod lived. 

We look to Jesus who chose not to force his will on the world. With the pressure of Rome threatening Israel, Jesus chose not to start an insurrection. He knew Rome was going to destroy the nation of Israel, and he let it happen. He’d been offered power over all of the nations of the world in his temptation by Satan in the wilderness, and Jesus turned that power down. He wasn’t going to force his way on the world through violence, and destruction, injustice, and oppression. 

Jesus chose instead to live the way of love, the way of justice, mercy, peace, and reconciliation. Jesus worked to invite and influence as many people as he could to join him in living the way of love, in living the way of justice, mercy, peace, and reconciliation. His faith wasn’t in Rome or any governmental power. His faith was in God and the ways of love that are God.

For us, our faith is not in any governmental power. Fearful as many are, fearful as some of us may be, that the country is going to hell in a handbasket or that if one person or another gets elected that the country will go to hell in a handbasket, we don’t have to bow to that fear and those pressures as Herod did. We don’t have to make ourselves into idols.

We can instead follow the way of Jesus. We can accept that the wrong people just may get elected. We can accept that terrible things may happen to institutions that we love. Our faith in not in those institutions, and it isn’t our world to force our will upon. We are not God. Our faith is not in ourselves and our own power. Our faith is in God, and we get to live the ways of God, the way of love, of justice, mercy, peace, and reconciliation. 

Filling the Hollows of Our Lives

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church
July 11, 2021
Proper 10, B
Mark 6:14-29

Filling the Hollows of Our Lives

Paul wrote in Ephesians that we have an inheritance in Christ as God’s children, God’s beloved people.  That inheritance is living God’s kingdom of love, united to God and to one another in this life and in the life to come.

Paul went on to write, that we could squander our inheritance, removing ourselves as God’s children.  “Entirely out of place”, Paul wrote, “is obscene, silly, and vulgar talk; but instead, let there be thanksgiving. Be sure of this, that no fornicator or impure person, or one who is greedy (that is, an idolater), has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.” (Ephesians 5:4-5)

That’s what we saw with Herod when he had John the Baptist killed.  Herod was king of Israel, a puppet king propped up by Rome, but still king of Israel.  He had power and authority to build up the kingdom of God within Israel.  He could have led the people to live in love, to care for one another, to “put away…all bitterness and wrath…slander and malice, and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another…”  (Ephesians 4:31-32) That would have been living the inheritance of the kingdom of God. Instead of living the kingdom of God and guiding the people of Israel into the same, however, Herod used his power and authority, to enrich and glorify himself.  

He had John imprisoned for speaking the truth to him about his actions, and at the same time, he was drawn to John.  He was drawn to the kingdom of God which John preached and taught people to live, but he would’t then follow John and live the kingdom of God himself.  For him, with much potentially to lose, the sacrifice was too great.  

If he didn’t continue to enrich himself, would those with wealth look at him as less powerful, less important than they?  If he chose to do the right thing, at John’s urging, would he look weak in the eyes of his courtiers and officers?  If he broke his oath after his silly and vulgar talk to his step-daughter, would he appear foolish and lose some of his credibility?  Money, power, influence: these were all Herod’s to lose, and wanting to keep those things, he executed an innocent man, a man whom he admired, a man who was leading him to the Kingdom of God.

Herod had the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of Love, right there to be received and to be grown and spread to others, leading others to the same Kingdom of Love, and instead, he squandered God’s kingdom, squandered his inheritance in money, power, and influence.

Squandering his inheritance, Herod reminds me of a man in a parable Jesus taught, the parable of the prodigal son.  In the parable, a son demands his inheritance from his father, receives his inheritance, and then squanders it all in raucous and extravagant living.  Once the money is all gone, he finds himself starving and alone, feeding pigs on someone else’s land, wishing he could eat even the slop he is feeding the pigs.

Herod is like that prodigal son, having received his inheritance and then squandering it completely.  Herod had wealth, power, and influence, but the Kingdom of God was nowhere to be seen in his life.  As far as joining with God in a life of love, grace, and mercy, using what he had to bring about justice and peace among the people, Herod was as poor and alone as the prodigal son, starving and penniless, wishing he could eat even the pig slop. 

Of course, the story of the prodigal son does not end there.  The son eventually wakes up, realizing he is starving and miserable, and he returns to his father ready to work as a hired servant, knowing that at least he will have food and shelter.  Then, while he is still a ways off, his father sees him coming home and he runs out to greet him, restoring his as his beloved son, overjoyed that he is back, alive and well.  

That’s God’s way.  When we squander our inheritance and live selfish lives, unconcerned with others, leaving hurt and harm in our wake, we may eventually realize that we are starving for a life of love, grace, and mercy.  When we realize that we are starving, and we begin to return to God’s kingdom of love, God runs out to us with open arms, strengthening us and guiding us back into our inheritance, living the Kingdom of love.

The challenge for Herod was he never realized he was starving.  He had his wealth, his power, his influence.  He had his courtiers and officials all suckling up to him, and so he was able to remain blind to the damage left in his wake.  He thought he had arrived, thought he had it all, but he was hollow on the inside, a puppet, not just of Rome, but also a puppet to all of his cravings, led by his desires for money, power, and influence.  As a puppet mastered by his cravings, Herod lived outside of the Kingdom of God, squandering his inheritance.

Of course, living the Kingdom of God is rarely as simple as you either are or you aren’t.  Most of us are living our inheritance in God’s kingdom of love except when we’re not.  So, my question today is, what is keeping us from living more fully into God’s kingdom of love?  What fills the hollows of our lives, controlling us as puppets?  For some, like Herod, it may be money, power, and influence that we are afraid to risk losing.  I don’t mean to imply that any of us have people beheaded over it, but for some, money, power, and influence may master us, keeping us from decisions, actions, or beliefs which would risk our money, power, and influence for the sake of others’ well being.  

For some of us, our past hurts may be mastering us, keeping us from living more fully into God’s kingdom of love.  All of us are hurting in some way and we end up building walls and defenses just trying to be ok.  Sometimes those very defenses end up taking over, harming us and others, and we miss out on God’s kingdom of love. 

There are many things which can end up mastering us, taking over the hollows of our lives and controlling us as puppets.  God’s response is to help wake us up to realize the ways we are being mastered, like Herod.  God’s response is to help us become aware of the ways we are starving, squandering our inheritance like the prodigal son.  God’s response is then to guide us back to our inheritance, to let go our fears, and to let God guide us into his Kingdom of love.  

God’s way is to offer to fill the hollows of our lives so that we are not puppets led by our fears and desires, but are instead walking together with God and one another.  That is life in God’s kingdom, as Paul writes to, “put away…all bitterness and wrath…slander and malice, and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven [us].”  Even when we squander our inheritance through fear and desire leaving ourselves hollow and hungry, in God’s kingdom, there is inheritance still waiting for us when we wake up and return and strive again to live in the way of love.  

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.