Mercy. Letting People Be. God Is With Us.

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
December 21, 2025
4 Advent, A
Isaiah 7:10-16
Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18
Matthew 1:18-25

When Mary ended up pregnant with a baby that wasn’t Joseph’s, he could have called for Mary’s death. Such was his right under Jewish law in Deuteronomy 22:23-27. Mary could have been stoned to death for being pregnant because she was engaged. Even if she had been raped, if she hadn’t screamed out loudly enough for someone to hear and stop the rape, she still could have been killed. We don’t know how often such killings took place in 1st century Israel, but we do know that Joseph had every right to have Mary killed. Some might even say he had a responsibility to fulfil the righteousness of the law, to have Mary killed. Joseph decided to go a different way.

He and Mary were probably both in their early teens, their marriage arranged by their parents, with Joseph and Mary still living with their parents at the time. So, when he found out she was pregnant with someone else’s baby, he could have, at the very least, called off the wedding. That was, in fact, what he planned to do. He would tell Mary’s family that since she was no longer a virgin and had been impregnated by another man, he would no longer accept her as his wife. 

Had that played out, Mary would have likely continued living with her parents. She would have had her baby. Maybe one day she would have gotten married, though her prospects for security and a husband weren’t that great. 

Then, of course, Joseph was visited by an Angel of the Lord who told him to take Mary as his wife because the child was given to her by the Holy Spirit, not by another man. Now, when Matthew wrote this story of Jesus birth, we find that it reminded Matthew of Isaiah 7:10-16, where the young woman gave birth to a son and the son was named, “Immanuel,” meaning God is with us.

Reminding us of that story, Matthew was telling us that God is with us in the birth of Jesus. God was with Mary as he chose her to become pregnant with Jesus and to raise him as her beloved son. God was with Joseph as he assured Joseph of his plan, that the pregnancy was God’s doing. God was also with Joseph before the angel visited him, when Joseph chose to let Mary go quietly.

If Joseph had had Mary killed, he would have fulfilled the letter of the law, but he would have missed God being with us, not to mention murdering an innocent young woman. Instead, Joseph chose to let Mary be, and God is with us.

God was with Mary when Joseph chose to simply let her go, rather than enforce upon her the full weight of the law. Even though she had seemingly broken the law. Even though she was engaged to him and gotten pregnant by some other dude, he thought, Joseph simply chose to let her go. 

She won’t be a part of my life, he figured, and that will be that. There had been a civil contract between his and her families, one’s daughter and one’s son, and since that contract had been broken by Mary, the two were no longer going to be married. That was all. No death. No condemnation. No public outcry. God is with us.

Now again, some would say he should have publicly disgraced Mary. She had done wrong, and they needed to keep Israel pure from such immorality. How could they be God’s people if they allowed such terrible behavior as Mary the tramp getting knocked up by some random dude? If they allowed that, how could God be with them? If they allowed Mary and others like her to live, wouldn’t they be making God angry with them as a nation? How could God be with them if they did not follow God’s laws of purity and sexual morality?

That could have been Joseph’s response, but again, he went a different way. Joseph chose mercy, and as it turns out, God was with them because of that mercy. God is with us because of that mercy.

So, trusting that God is with us, even when people do things that are considered unrighteous and immoral, how might we follow the example of Joseph? How might we show mercy, too?

Well, Joseph thought Mary had committed sexual immorality, and we have laws being proposed and passed aimed at what some consider to be sexual immorality. I am thinking of our LGBTQ brothers and sisters who are being targeted by laws written to uphold some people’s ideas of Christian sexual morality. Repealing marriage equality. Preventing doctors from helping transgender people transition. What if, instead of writing laws against our LGBTQ brothers and sisters, people just let them be?    

I’ve heard concern by some Christian preachers that God is angry with the United States for allowing LGBTQ people to have the same rights and freedoms as everyone else. That’s kinda like thinking Mary had to be killed to keep God from being angry with Israel. Turns out, despite what the law said, God wanted mercy, not murder.

Well, if we look to Joseph, his righteousness came not by enforcing the punishment of God’s law. Josephs’ righteousness came by showing mercy. Joseph’s righteousness came by simply letting Mary be. What if people who consider LGBTQ folks to be sinners just let them be, trusting that God is with us. 

What if Christians in general didn’t force their ideas of morality on others, but simply let people be? Could we still trust that God is with us? That would be following Joseph’s example of righteousness, showing mercy, trusting that God is with us.

What about other ways that people might show mercy, trusting God is with us, rather than enforcing punishment for doing wrong? What about when we lose our tempers, wanting to shout at or fight with someone because they did something against us? We’re so pissed off, and we want to teach the, to make them know they were wrong, to admit it, and to make it right. We want punishment and justice.

That is presumably what an 18-year-old wanted when he stabbed his 16-year-old classmate in the neck, killing him. The 18-year-old couldn’t find his vape pen and was convinced the younger man had taken it. A fight ensued and because of that, one young man is dead, and the other is in jail, facing murder charges and decades in prison. 

I don’t know what was going through his head at the time, but it’s a good bet it wasn’t mercy. A $21 vape pen, an assumption of theft, no mercy, and a young man is dead. That’s what could have happened to Mary. An engagement, an assumption of adultery, no mercy, and Mary would have been killed, but Joseph chose a different way, and God is with us.

Joseph choosing mercy was probably not an accident. He had probably been shown mercy himself, had been taught mercy. Vengeance is easy. All we have to do is listen to our emotions, get hurt, get upset, and do exactly what our emotions tell us to do. That’s what Cain did when he killed Abel. Be angry and do exactly what that anger says to do. That’s what Derek Chauvin did when he murdered George Floyd.

Vengeance is easy, and vengeance tends to rest on the idea that we’re alone. Vengeance is a fearful response that we have to take care of whatever problem ourselves. Judgment, justice, all up to us. Vengeance can also be a fearful response that if we don’t hurt the people we think are wrong, then God may hurt us. Neither of those were Joseph’s response. Joseph chose mercy and found that God is with us.

Mercy is taught and practiced. Mercy takes trust that God is with us, and so we don’t need vengeance. 

For the young man who killed his classmate over a missing vape pen, mercy does mean that he’ll need to be in prison if he’s convicted, and that he’ll need to be shown mercy when he’s there, helped to heal, not just beaten down and punished forever.

God is with us. Always and everywhere. God became human so we would know that he is with us. God became human to show us mercy. Mercy helps heal the world. May we follow Joseph’s example. May we follow the way of God. May we show mercy.

Sure, People Work Hard for Poverty Wages, but We Pray...Is that Not Enough?

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets, Houston
July 20, 2025
Proper 11, C
Amos 8:1-12
Colossians 1:15-28
Psalm 15
Luke 10:38-42

‘Hey Jesus,’ Martha said, ‘I have a bunch of housework to do. Won’t you please come over and sit around while I do my chores? My sister will probably pay attention to you, and honestly, that really gonna piss me off.’ 

That’s usually how we read this story, isn’t it, and it’s really weird. Why would you invite someone into your home just to ignore them? Also, the message that those who sit at Jesus’ feet and listen are better than those who have to do work is not a message Jesus taught. Jesus was consistently for those who had to work and couldn’t spend all day in the temple. After all, if everyone sat around reading the Bible and praying all day long, who would do things like grow food, work at grocery stores, operate power plants. We give thanks for those who work while others rest.

So, as we often read the story of Martha and Mary, it’s kinda weird. Thanks to my wife, however, I was introduced to a different reading of this story which came from Mary Stromer Hanson*. She points out that we tend to read some things into the text that aren’t really there. For one thing, Martha welcomed Jesus, but not into her home. That was an addition, and the most ancient texts don’t have those words. 

So, Martha welcomed Jesus. Mary, we are told sat at Jesus’ feet, meaning she was one of his disciples who learned from him. It doesn’t actually say she was there in this story. We’re told she also sat at Jesus’ feet, meaning Martha did too. Martha and Mary were both Jesus’ disciples. 

Finally, we’re told that Martha was distracted by her many tasks, which we assume means housework, but the Greek actually says “ministry”. Martha was distracted by her ministry in her hometown, and she was asking Jesus to send her sister back to help her. 

Jesus is telling her, then, that she has a good ministry and that her sister, Mary, also has a good ministry elsewhere. You don’t need her here, Jesus was saying. What you need is to draw near to God as you do your ministry. Look at all you are doing; it’s great ministry, but you are becoming distracted from the one who is with you. Don’t forget to join with me as you serve others. You can become so consumed in that work that it becomes a burden. Join again with God, let God’s love fill you, then your service will be a blessing both to others and to you.

Prayer and service work hand in hand. As Pope Francis said, “You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them. This is how prayer works.” At the same time, feeding the hungry can be your prayer for the hungry. Prayer and ministry of service are all tied up together as one.

We draw near to God by listening to God. Draw near to God by acting with love towards others.

In our reading from Amos today, God says, 

Hear this, you that trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land…Surely I will never forget any of [your] deeds. I will turn your feasts into mourning, and all your songs into lamentation…The time is surely coming, says the Lord GOD, when I will send a famine on the land; not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD. (Amos 8:1-12) 

In "ABSOLUTE SUPERMAN",
Kal-El is a champion of the working
class and working poor. His symbol 
that of the working class on Krypton.

In Amos, the people were no longer able to draw near to God and hear his Word because of how they mistreated the poor and lowly. They went to God in prayer often enough, but they paid the poor poverty wages and rejoiced in their own wealth, blaming the poor for not doing more or working harder. 

Because of how they treated people, they could not draw near to God, no matter how hard they tried. God would not hear their prayers, nor would God let his Word be heard among them. 

Sitting at the Lord’s feet, being Jesus’ disciple, demands action. Drawing near to Jesus for our prayers to be heard demands following Jesus’ teaching and abiding in his love, living out his love for others. Living out Jesus’ love for others is sitting at Jesus’ feet. Following Jesus’ teaching is drawing near to Jesus in prayer.

At the same time, living out Jesus’ love for others requires us to return to Jesus for prayer and learning. That sounds contradictory. Prayer is service. Service is prayer, and we have to do both intentionally. 

Without drawing near to God for times of rest, we can become overcome by the work, the ministry, the suffering of others. That’s what was happening with Martha. She was getting overcome by the enormity of the work of ministry, the enormity of the work of loving others. She was getting overcome by seeing suffering all around her, and so she wanted Mary to come back home and do the work with her. 

What Martha actually needed, however, to take a break from her work, and spend some time sitting at Jesus’ feet, learning again, resting in Jesus’ presence, and drawing near to God in prayer. That means some of the work wouldn’t get done. That’s ok. There’s always more work to do, always more love to give, always more suffering to soothe, and God commanded us to rest, to take time to draw near to God. 

When we don’t take that time to rest, then we can’t hear God anymore, and we often start following the ways of the Adversary. When we’re overcome by the suffering of the world, we often become angry and hateful toward those who are causing the suffering. When we don’t rest in God, we turn against our enemies, rather than for those we seek to serve, and even our service can bring the darkness of the Adversary, rather than the light of the Holy Spirit. 

When we’re overcome by the Adversary, we can’t hear God’s word. We need rest to offer to God all of our hatred and all of our anger. We need rest to offer to God all of our righteous fury at those who pay poverty wages while enriching themselves. We offer all of that to God so that God may heal our hearts and we may live out the light of God’s love once again. 

So, when we hear the story of Marth and Mary, and we’re told we need to be more of a Mary than a Martha, that we need to pray and stop doing so much work, that’s not really what the story tells us. We need both. Prayer without service can lead to selfish faith, not caring about those around us, like we saw in Amos. Service without prayer can lead to being overcome by the enormity of suffering in the world. We need Martha and Mary, prayer and service. True discipleship means we pray for people and we love and serve people, walking with Jesus all along the way. 

* https://eewc.com/new-view-mary-martha/

https://stromerhanson.blogspot.com/2015/11/mary-of-bethany-her-leadership-uncovered.html

When We Help and Give Love to Folks in Need, We Have Jesus with Us

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets, Houston

April 6, 2025

5 Lent, C

Philippians 3:4b-14

Psalm 126

John 12:1-8

“You always have the poor with you,” Jesus said. I’ve often heard this said with a kind of fatalism. You’ll always have the poor with you so, there’s not a whole lot we can do; we wish it were different, but eh, we can’t really help. So, “You will always have the poor with you,” ends up being used as an excuse not to worry too much about poverty and those who suffer from poverty. The poor will always be with us, so just accept it and move on.

Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what Jesus meant when he said, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” Jesus taught extensively about caring for the poor. Jesus taught folks with wealth to live off of less so that those with little would have more. Jesus even taught that those at the top, in modern times, the CEOs and shareholders, should choose to earn less for themselves so that those on the bottom of the pay scale could earn more. 

So, when Jesus said, “You always have the poor with you,” he did not mean, “Meh, don’t worry about ‘em.”

Jesus was talking to Judas who was making a good self-righteous show, pretending to be upset about how much money Mary had spent on the perfume she was using to anoint Jesus. It was a huge amount of money, about 10 months’ worth of minimum wage, and she was using it all in one go to anoint Jesus’ feet. So yeah, fair point, that’s an extravagant expense, but as John tells us, Judas didn’t actually care about how the money could have been used on the poor; he just wanted to be able to keep more money for himself.

So, when Jesus responded, “You always have the poor with you,” he was telling Judas, “Dude, I know what you’re really on about, and if you actually care about the poor, like you say you do, I highly recommend doing something about it.” In fact, Jesus was commanding Judas to care for the poor. “You always have the poor with you,” was a paraphrase of Deuteronomy 15:11, “Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land’”.

Yes, Judas, you are commanded to care for the poor and needy in the land, so stop lambasting Mary, stop stealing, and start using what you have to care for those in need. In fact, Judas, not only do you always have the poor with you and should therefore care for them, but you do not always have me. 

Ok, on the one hand, Jesus was obviously speaking about his upcoming arrest and crucifixion. When Jesus was killed and then when he ascended into heaven, his friends and disciples truly didn’t have him there with them anymore. He continued and continues now to dwell in our hearts, in our very souls and bodies, and yet, Jesus is not walking among us physically, at least not in the way he was a couple thousand years ago. 

In Matthew 25:31-46, however, Jesus did say that whatever we do to the least among us, we do to him. We do have Jesus with us among the very poor and needy whom Jesus commanded Judas to care for. By not caring for others among us, we push Jesus away. 

So, anytime someone dismissively says, “You always have the poor with you,” and therefore figure there is nothing we can or should do about it, they are ignoring Jesus and pushing Jesus away. By words and actions that care only for the wealthy and do nothing for the poor and needy, people reveal the truth of Jesus’ statement, “you do not always have me.” When we push away, trample on, and ignore the poor and needy among us, we push away, trample on, and ignore Jesus and find his words are true. We don’t have Jesus with us. 

So, the truth is, we always have the poor with us; we always have people in need among us, but depending on how we treat them, we don’t always have Jesus. 

So, what are we then to do with the hugely expensive bit of perfume that Mary used up in one sitting to anoint Jesus’ feet. Well, it may not have been the best use of money ever in the history of the world, but Jesus meant a huge amount to their family. Beyond that, they seemed to have some idea of Jesus’ importance beyond just a family friend, and Mary wanted to honor and bless Jesus, and draw near to him in this act of pure love. 

Giving of ourselves to spend time with Jesus, never a bad idea. That’s part of what Paul was saying in his letter to the Philippians when he wrote, “I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” Paul had been one of the absolute best at his religion, and I don’t think there’s really a contest about being better than others at religions, but even so, Paul was the GOAT at his religion, and he gladly let all of it go when he came to know God as a human being, Jesus. 

Mary had this hugely expensive bit of perfume, and she got rid of all of it, used it all at once, in order to be near and offer love to Jesus. 

Now, don’t let anyone fool you into giving them all your money for some Jesusy, religious, whosadeewhatsit. “Send us $1000 and all your prayers will come true.” “Support our ministries with all you’ve got, and God’ll give it back to you with interest.” The only folks what get rich off things like that are the preachers.

No, when we give all that we have to draw near to Jesus, we’re giving our lives, our wills, desires in order to follow Jesus more fully. Sometimes we do give money to support ministries, and we do give money to help others in need, and when we’re helping those other people, we are drawing near to and loving Jesus. 

Realize too that when we give things up in order to draw near to and love Jesus, they’re usually things that we find we’re just fine without. Paul didn’t regret giving up his number one religious guy card, and Mary didn’t regret using all of that perfume on Jesus. She found afterwards that she didn’t need it anymore. 

When we help others in need, we tend to find that we didn’t really need whatever it was we gave up in order to give that help. We find instead that we have spent time with Jesus in those moments, and it was well worth it. We’ve always got folks in need among us, and when we help and give love to folks in need, we have Jesus with us as well.

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.

Do not be afraid, for the Word has become flesh...

 The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets, Houston
December 29, 2024
1 Christmas, C
Isaiah 61:10-62:3
Psalm 147
John 1:1-18 

“[Mary] gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.”

When Jesus was born, the Word of God became human. The Word of God which spoke creation into existence became human. The word of God which gave the law of Israel became human. The Word of God which spoke through the prophets became human, and most importantly of all, the Word of God which is God became human.

When God became human, an angel of the Lord went to nearby shepherds and told them, “Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

That little baby, wrapped in bands of cloth, surrounded by family and no small amount of animals was God born among us as the human child, Jesus. The good news of great joy is that God became human and was born among us, as one of us, uniting all that we are in perfect union with God.

That’s good news of great joy, and yet we so often hear it told as remarkably bad news, don’t we. “If you don’t believe in Jesus, God’s gonna get you,” right? We do talk a lot about God’s judgement of the wicked, the unjust, and those who gain wealth by oppressing others. Thank God, God has judgement on such people.

Here’s the good news: even that judgement and that wickedness has been united to God in Jesus. That’s the whole point of the incarnation, of the Word of God becoming human; everything about us has been united to God. Nothing can separate us from God and God’s love. Amidst all the storms and crud of life all around us, we are perfectly united to God: in our faith, in our fears, in our kindness and in our sins. We are forever one with God through that baby wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.

Now, I said earlier that Jesus, in the manger, was surrounded family as well as all the animals. I don’t just mean Mary and Joseph. As much as I love our manger scenes with more cows and sheep than people, as in a barn set away from the house, that was almost certainly not the case. The room where they were was attached to and part of the house where animals could be kept. They were probably at the home of a family member. So, Jesus was surrounded by Mary, Joseph, and other family members celebrating the birth of Mary’s firstborn son, and they were surrounded by animals.

Thinking of this manger scene of family and animals, I was reminded of Noah’s ark. The Manger, the birth of Jesus, was like a little ark, a little sanctuary amidst the flood of all the crazy that was going on around them. Rome was oppressing the Jewish people, there were fanatical religious leaders calling for armed rebellion, tax collectors and soldiers were extorting money from people, and as it turned out, the king of Israel was a crazy enough dude that he thought murdering babies was a good idea.

So yeah, life was like a terrible flood of crazy all around and in the midst of that flood, you had this ark, this manger in which God was born among us surrounded by loved ones and animals, a safe place from the storm, and a new beginning.

On that night, in that manger ark, our new life of perfect union with God began, and with that new life, God began once again God’s life of love among us. Remember that revolution of repentance I talked about last Sunday, Mary, singing her song of praise to God and of revolution on the earth? Remember, I said that God’s revolution for us is meant to change the crazy of the status quo not by violent revolution, but by the non-violent revolution of repentance? The next step is the non-violent revolution of love.

The Word of God became human because our union with God is what gives us the strength to love in the face of all of the crazy going on around us.

The strength to love in the face of oppression, the strength to love in the face of assault, the strength to love even in the face of murder and rape. That is the revolution of love that God gave us on that night when Jesus was born. We saw Jesus live out that revolution of love all the way through his death and into life everlasting beyond death.

We still see Jesus’ revolution of love being lived out among us in our world today. I think of the time after South African after apartheid. There was terrible violence and oppression during apartheid, and there was violence done in ending apartheid. Faced with this boiling rage among the people of South Africa, Nelson Mandella set up the Peace and Reconciliation Commission, and he asked Anglican Archbishop Desmond Tutu to lead the commission.

The commission offered amnesty for people involved in apartheid and in the violence done against apartheid. The commission sought truth from those who had harmed so many through their oppression and violence, and victims got to hear from those who had harmed them. The victims got to know that the perpetrators understood what they had done and see the humanity of their victims.

The work done through the Peace and Reconciliation Commission wasn’t perfect, and not everyone agreed with the work, but the work overall brought peace and reconciliation to a nation on the verge of collapse through conflict. Jesus’ revolution of love paved the way for the people of South Africa to move beyond the hurts of the past and find some peace amidst the hurt and hatred, amidst storms of the crazy of life.

Archbishop Tutu wrote:

To forgive is…a process that does not exclude hatred and anger. These emotions are all part of being human. You should never hate yourself for hating others who do terrible things: the depth of your love is shown by the extent of your anger.

However, when I talk of forgiveness I mean the belief that you can come out the other side a better person. A better person than the one being consumed by anger and hatred. Remaining in that state locks you in a state of victimhood, making you almost dependent on the perpetrator.

If you can find it in yourself to forgive, then you are no longer chained to the perpetrator.

Freedom and salvation. Freedom from sin, including freedom from the sins of others. That is the salvation of Jesus and Jesus’ revolution of love. Gathering with Mary and Joseph, with family, and with animals around the manger and the babe wrapped in bands of cloth, we can rest in that ark of freedom and salvation amidst the storms of life around us. The Word of God has become human, uniting us perfectly with God. All of our faith, all of our fears, all of our kindness, and all of our sins have been united to God. So, “Do not be afraid, for we have been brought good news of great joy for all the people: to us is born…in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord,” for the Word has become flesh and dwells among us.

Punk-Rock Mary

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets, Houston
December 22, 2024
4 Advent, C
Hebrews 10:5-10
Luke 1:39-55

We just heard in our Gospel reading Mary’s words of praise to God, not only for placing Jesus to grow in her womb, but also praise to God for the upheaval God has planned for humanity. We call Mary’s words, “The Song of Mary” or “The Magnificat”, and I heard a comment last week that someone wished there was a punk-rock version of the Magnificat, and that seems to fit pretty darn well the whole idea of Mary’s song. The status quo ain’t quo, and God is not ok with how things are: the rich get richer while the poor struggle ever harder. 

That won’t stand in God’s eyes; there will be an upheaval, Mary proclaims. The lowly will be raised up, and the rich will be sent empty away. If that ain’t punk rock, or rap, or metal, or any kind of protest music, I don’t know what is. 

We’ve got these quiet, mindful, demure images of Mary, hands folded, piously looking heavenward: a dutiful little housewife with no real will of her own, other than to say, “You bet!” to the Holy Spirit impregnating her with Jesus. Hmm, let’s look at Mary for a minute.

She was likely about 14, the general age for marriage back then, and she was risking everything by saying “Yes” to God’s offer to have her be the mother of Jesus, the mother of God as a human being. She was risking her marriage as Joseph may or may not have believed and understood that she was bearing God’s son. She was therefore risking her life because if Joseph didn’t believe that she was bearing God’s son, she could have been killed for adultery, bearing another man’s child. If not killed, she was still risking being ostracized and outcast for dishonoring her family and bringing some unknown man’s child into the world with no real hope of land or security.

So, Mary was taking a big risk by saying “Yes” to God. “Let it be with me, your servant, according to your will,” she said to God, and she seems to have been pretty darn excited about it. Quiet, mindful, and demure? No, Mary was excited, faithful, and outspoken, and she spoke out about what God was doing in the world by becoming human and living among us. “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,” she said, because she was so excited about what she knew what was coming.

She knew what the angel Gabriel had told her, that Jesus would be the son of God and that he would rule forever. Mary also seems to have known the scriptures because what Mary was describing in her punk-rock, rap, metal protest song was the kind of status quo smashing action that God had taken continually throughout the scriptures. 

Oppression of the poor laborers by the rich ruling class, yeah, that kind of stuff has never sat well with God, and we see throughout the scriptures God telling the people of Israel and other nations that a reconning is coming because of their oppression of the poor. ‘Oh, you’re very religious, and that’s great,’ God would say, ‘but when you have a society in which those at the top keep getting more and those at the bottom don’t have enough to live on, then by your actions you show that I’m not the one you’re worshipping.’ 

That was God’s complaint, over and over. There was outright idolatry too, but time and again, God’s big complaint against the people was that when their society became one in which the rich had more than they could ever need and the poor worked hard for not enough, then the people’s god had become something other than actual God. 

“But we worship you all the time,” the people say, and God says, “Yea, I don’t know you, for I was naked and hungry, without shelter, and you did nothing but stare with indifference and contempt.” That’s how Jesus said judgement will be, the same kind of reconning that God has brought throughout human history. 

So, when Mary sang, “God has brought down the powerful from their thrones,

and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty,” she was being a punk-rock prophet. She was remembering what had happened over and over when God intervened in our world.

Now, we could look at Mary’s protest anthem as a song about class warfare, rich vs. poor, the rich losing the battle and the poor overtaking them in conflict. As a rock song, that would certainly sell a few albums, and the movie would be great to watch, but I’m not sure God would be all that delighted in such devastating a conflict. 

See, what we read about God and what we hear Mary proclaim is that God does not desire for one group to rise up and destroy the other. It happens a lot. An oppressive and powerful minority is eventually ousted as the oppressed rise up in violence against them. We recently saw this happen in Syria as the oppressive government was overthrown after over a decade of civil war.

Violent uprising is the way things tend to go after the oppressed have finally had enough, but I don’t think that’s what Mary was singing about. Punk-rock Mary was a revolutionary, but not a violent revolutionary. John the Baptist was in the womb of his mother, Elizabeth when Jesus was in the womb of Mary, and even in the womb, when John heard Mary speak, he leapt for joy.

The revolution that Mary was singing about was the kind of revolution that John started when he went into the wilderness baptizing people. Mary was singing about a revolution of repentance. That’s the kind of revolution we see God desiring throughout scripture, constantly warning the people that violent revolution is coming if you don’t repent of oppression. Violent revolution is coming, God warns, if your society doesn’t stop claiming to worship me while actually worshipping wealth and power. 

God’s desire is to break the cycle of violent uprising. God’s desire is revolution of repentance where the rich and all of society will turn away from their love of wealth and power and instead learn to love one another. That is what John proclaimed in the wilderness. That is what Jesus taught over and over again. That’s what Jesus gives us the power to do.

In our world today, we can’t go on as we are. A society increasingly ruled by wealthy oligarchs who push for rules to benefit themselves while almost fifty percent of people struggle to make ends meet. Society can’t go on that way.

So, we look to Jesus, to the revolution of repentance and love which he brought. We sing the song of punk-rock Mary, calling for and living for a revolution of repentance and love, rather than a violent revolution. That’s why Mary’s soul proclaimed the greatness of the Lord. God lifts up the poor and the oppressed. God turns our hearts to repentance and love to end oppression by breaking the cycles of violence and leading us to God’s kingdom of peace. 

"To White Shores, and Beyond, a Far Green Country Under a Swift Sunrise"

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church
October 31, 2021
All Saints’, B

John 11:32-44

White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.

“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

I’ll venture to guess that all of us have felt this way at some point. If you had been here. Where were you? Where are you? 

Lord, if you had been here, cancer would not have killed my loved ones.

If you had been here our city wouldn’t have flooded, children wouldn’t starve, people wouldn’t work three jobs and be in poverty. 

If you had been here, we wouldn’t have people who are feared, harassed, and killed because of the color of their skin.

Lord, if you had been here, COVID wouldn’t have ravaged our world.

Where are you, Lord? Where were you? 

As much as we wish death would not separate us from our loved ones, especially when they are young or the death is brought about by violence, death continues to happen even when God is walking on earth among us. We may wish or sometimes think that because we believe in Jesus, death won’t come for us or our loved ones until we are old and prepared for it, having lived a full life. The truth that we know, however, is that death comes to all of us just as randomly and as certainly as it does for everyone. No right formula of prayer, belief, or ritual is going to stop that. We who believe in Jesus can’t stave off death any more than anyone else can. 

Jesus didn’t come to stop death from happening. Death is supposed to happen. Without death, there is no new life. We know this in nature in the way biology works, in the way the earth works. Things die and return to the earth, and when they do, new life happens. New trees are nourished as old trees die and give nutrients to the soil. The same is true for animals, even for humans. Death brings new life, and a new kind of life.

When we die, we become new life. We are changed, not ended, alive with God.  See,
Jesus didn’t come here to keep us from dying. Jesus came here to keep us living.

Now death can take many forms. Physical, mental, emotional, relational. How often are we and other alive in our bodies, but suffering death in many other ways. These deaths too are going to happen in our lives, that’s the nature of life. Jesus didn’t come here to stop these deaths from happening. Jesus came here to keep us living amidst all of these deaths.

Thinking of these non-physical deaths, I imagine a man who was cheated by a business partner, whose dream company is no longer his, but his former partner’s. He’s angry, as well he should be. Losing his business, his ideas, his dreams, that was a death for this man. I can imagine this man thirty years later still resentful, bitter, and angry. Broken, basically, having never really recovered from the betrayal and loss, he is mostly alone, not trusting, barely loving. His life really ended with that betrayal, and though he’s physically alive, he’s mostly dead inside. 

“Unbind him, and let him go,” Jesus said. I can imagine this man taking a different path than continued resentment, bitterness, and anger. I can imagine this man releasing his past, releasing his hurt, and letting new life take place within him after that death. Thirty years later, I can imagine this man with a great life, a life different than what it would have been, but a life in which he loves and is loved, where he trusts, where he is fully alive, living life abundantly. Part of him died and went into the tomb, but he let it go. He was unbound by that death so that he could continue living.

Now, when death happens for us, all kinds of death, including the physical death of our loved ones, part of us dies too. Part of us goes into the tomb with Lazarus’ body. His body, after four days in the tomb, was decomposing, rotting. There was the stench of death and decay, and the same is true for us when parts of us die and we lie in the tomb. We’re sad, maybe lost, sometimes resentful and angry. “Lord if you had been here, cancer would not have killed my loved ones; our city wouldn’t have flooded; children wouldn’t starve; people wouldn’t work three jobs and be in poverty; folks wouldn’t be afraid, harassed, and killed because of the color of their skin; and COVID wouldn’t have ravaged our world.

When these deaths happen, we get to think and feel this way. We get to be sad and lost, resentful and angry. Even through that fourth day in the tomb when the stench of rotting flesh is upon us, we get to be sad and lost, resentful and angry. Such is the nature of death, but we aren’t meant to stay there forever. “Unbind him, and let him go,” Jesus said.

Come out of the tomb, for there is new life after death.

That’s true for the many non-physical deaths which take place throughout our lives, and it is also true with physical death. Jesus didn’t come here to keep us from dying. Jesus came here to keep us living.

So too with physical death, we hear Jesus’ words, “Unbind them, and let them go.” Physical death is not the end, for we continue living on in a way we don’t fully understand. More than physical life, we continue on with life in God. All of us together, unbound by death, the communion of saints, fully alive, even though our bodies have died. 

All of our loved ones. All of the saints in our lives. All of the saints in the church. Past. Present. Yet to come. We are all unbound from death and brought into full life with Christ in God. That is the communion of saints, for death is not the end. As the wizard, Gandalf said in the the movie “The Return of the King,” “Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it. White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.”

With the deaths in our lives, we often say, as Mary said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Yes he would have. Now “unbind him and let him go.” For Jesus did not come to keep us from dying. Jesus came to keep us living, living fully with God throughout this life and even after this life has ended, gathered together in God with all of our saints and loved ones, gathered to white shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.

“I love this plan; I’m excited to be a part of it!” - Mary, Teenager, Mother of God

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church
December 20, 2020
4 Advent, B
Canticle 15 (Luke 1:46-55)
Luke 1:26-38

“I love this plan; I’m excited to be a part of it!” - Mary, Teenager, Mother of God

Christmas Card Design by Parker Fitzgerald

https://www.cleansingfire.org/.../a-contemporary.../

“Do not be afraid,” Gabriel said to Mary.  He said this in response to Mary’s rather non-plussed reaction to his initial salutation, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you,” to which Mary seems to have responded about how you might expect a young teenager to respond.  “Huh.  That’s a rather odd way of greeting me, but ok, let’s see what this guy has to say.”

“Do not be afraid,” Gabriel said to Mary, but Mary doesn’t seem to have been all that afraid.  Maybe she was a particularly brave and trusting young woman.  Maybe she particularly devout in her faith, and she does seem to have been pretty devout.  Maybe it was also a good thing that she was a teenager and still invincible like all teenagers are.  Had she been in her mid 20s, it might have been more of a cautious response.  “Ok, so what’s this gonna mean for me, and how’s this all gonna go?

“Well kiddo,” Gabriel would’ve responded, “not long from now, your ankles will swell, you’re gonna have a hard time sleeping and getting comfortable in general, you’re going to be in a lot of pain during the birth, and you’ll pee just a little bit every time you cough for the rest of your life.  Oh, and most of your family will at least initially thing you’ve cheated on Joseph and brought shame upon them, but hey this child is gonna be hugely important, so your parenting of him has to be…not perfect, but at least better than sub par.  So, hey, hey, it’s ok, don’t be afraid.”  

See, Mary didn’t seem to be afraid.  All the reasons why following God’s plan would be rather troublesome for Mary, those things didn’t get in her way.  The plan was pretty much for Joseph and her to get married and have some kids anyway, so Mary seemed rather thrilled at the whole idea.  Once Gabriel left, she sang a song about how great it was not only for her, but for all people, that the Holy Spirit was going to conceive a son in her womb.  Her response to Gabriel was not a timid, “Let it be with me according to your word,” but an enthusiastic, “Oh heck yeah, let it be with me according to your word.  This is fantastic.”  

See, teenager:  idealistic, trusting, ready to take on the world and know that is messed up, beautiful, and worth saving.  Mary understood that she was part of God’s kingdom on Earth.  She was part of God’s story of redemption, part of God’s story of restoration.  She was like Princess Leah in Star Wars, ready to take on the whole Empire, stand up to Darth Vader, and lie to his face because she believed in something greater than herself and saw herself as part of a larger story of justice, of ending oppression, of lifting up the lowly, and casting down the mighty.  

[God] has shown the strength of his arm, (Mary sang). He has scattered the proud in their conceit.  He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly.  He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.  He has come to the help of his servant Israel, for he has remembered his promise of mercy, the promise he made to our fathers, to Abraham and his children for ever.

All of these things, God has done, Mary sang, in joy and excitement.  She knew, and trusted, and loved the God whom she served, and she couldn’t wait to be a part of God’s story and to see what God had in store for Israel and the world through her and her son.  She didn’t know exactly what was coming, but she knew redemption was coming.  She knew restoration was coming.  She knew wrongs were going to be righted.  She knew that God’s kingdom was coming.

She knew that God’s kingdom is a kingdom of love, a kingdom where God’s power is used to lift up the lowly, to feed the hungry, and to show mercy.  God’s kingdom is a kingdom of love in which our power and our wealth are used not to gain even more power and wealth for ourselves.  In God’s kingdom, our power and our wealth, whatever power and wealth we have, are used to lift up the lowly, to feed the hungry, and to show mercy.  

At Emmanuel, we are using what we have to lift up the lowly, to feed the hungry, and to show mercy.  We are helping to provide food for mothers and their children who are getting on their feet at Gracewood.  We got to help a couple of families this Advent through Angel Tree.  We are helping to provide food and shelter for people experiencing homelessness through Lord of the Streets Episcopal Church.  We’re helping children through our support of MAM’s back to school program.  We’re providing prayers and prayer quilts through the Daughters of the King and our sewing ministry.  We’re helping people recover and rebuild after disasters have destroyed people’s homes.  These are some of the many ways we get to be a part of God’s kingdom through our life at Emmanuel.  

At Emmanuel, in the year of COVID and social distancing, God is also proclaiming the good news of Jesus in twice daily online prayer, in weekly online worship, and in a live Nativity to a neighborhood who just had a new church move in.  In the crazy of the COVID, Emmanuel has chosen not to be afraid, but instead to be like the teenage Mary saying, “Oh heck yeah, let it be with me according to your word.”  

Do not be afraid, God tells us, for fear leads to turning away from God’s kingdom.  Fear keeps us small.  Fear keeps us focused on ourselves.  Fear tells us that we aren’t enough, that we don’t have enough, that we can’t do the right thing, that we won’t be ok. Now, we all have fears, and we all are afraid in various ways.  The key is not to let those fears rule our lives.  

Mary may well have had some fears of losing her family, of losing her husband, but her teenage brain saw the beauty of God’s kingdom, saw the light of God’s presence burning throughout creation and said to her fears, “Nah, it’ll be ok.”  So how do we get past our fears and keep that teenage brain gloriously excited about living God’s kingdom and saying, “Nah, it’ll be ok,” to our fears?

One way is to follow the advice of Jedi Master Yoda, to “Train [ourselves] to let go of everything [we] fear to lose.” Imagine living without those things that we fear to lose, and feel God’s presence with us even in that loss.  Jesus had the same advice for a young man who, like Mary, wanted to live God’s kingdom, but who also many possessions and was afraid to give them up.  “Go and sell all that you have, and then come, and follow me,” Jesus said, and the man walked away sad because he didn’t want to give up what he had.  His stuff, and fear of living without his stuff, kept him from living God’s kingdom.  He could not let go of that which he feared to lose, so he no longer had the teenage brain to see the beauty of God’s kingdom and say to his fears, “Nah, it’ll be ok.”

In this time of Advent, of preparation for Jesus always coming into the world, we are reminded to train ourselves to let go of everything we fear to lose.  We are reminded of Jesus’ teaching to let go of whatever is keeping us small and focused on ourselves.  We get to hear again the Angel Gabriel’s words, “Do not be afraid.”  

Do not be afraid of losing what you have in the service of others.  Do not be afraid of losing what you have in the service of God’s kingdom, for God lifts up the lowly.  Train yourself to let go of everything that keeps you from living God’s kingdom.  Spend time each day in prayer, seeking God’s will and way.  Pray over what you have and what you fear to lose, and pray that all of it may be used for God’s kingdom, whether by you or by someone else.  Talk and pray with others, your family and friends, seeking together how to follow God’s will and way, how to live God’s love, redemption, restoration, justice, and mercy.   

That is the way of God’s kingdom and the way of Mary who knew, and trusted, and loved the God whom she served and couldn’t wait to be a part of God’s story.  She saw the light of God’s fire throughout creation, loved God’s plan and was excited to be a part of it.  

“I love this plan; I’m excited to be a part of it.”  In addition to being a quote from Bill Murray in Ghostbusters, that is the response God is looking for when we catch a glimpse of God’s kingdom and our part to play in it.  Fear schmear.  “How is God calling me to be a part of God’s story of love, redemption, restoration, justice, and mercy?”  What makes my non-fearful Mary-like teenage brain say, “I love this plan; I’m excited to be a part of it,” and “Oh heck yeah, let it be with me according to your word?”