Showing posts with label Reconciliation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reconciliation. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

It Isn't Just a Flesh Wound

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
June 8, 2025
Pentecost, C
Acts 2:1-21
Psalm 104:25-35, 37
John 14:8-17 (25-27)

 

Our bishop has said, “God has a mission, and God’s mission has a church.” Well, God’s mission is to unify humanity with God and with one another, and we are God’s church. God has formed us to live out God’s mission of unity and reconciliation. More accurately, we are part of God’s worldwide, one church, which God has formed to live out God’s mission of unity.

Anglican, Episcopal, Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Baptist, Lutheran, Methodist, Congregationalist, Presbyterian, Mennonite, Church of Christ, and countless other church groups, we may argue amongst ourselves, and some of us may say others of us aren’t really Christian, but despite our objections, we are one church throughout the world. We are one Body of Christ, all formed to live out God’s mission of unity and reconciliation.

Of course, we believe that the unity of God and humanity happened a couple thousand years ago when God became human with the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. God united physically with every aspect of our lives, so that we are fully united with God, and nothing can change that. Nothing can separate us from God because God has become human in Jesus Christ.

So, since that mission unity with God is done, accomplished, and finished, what is left for the church to do? Well, as I said before, God has formed the church to live out that mission of unity. God has formed the church to live the truth that we are one with one another and with God.

When we don’t live into that truth, when we don’t live as though we are one, we are deceiving ourselves.

In the movie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, King Arthur is on a quest to search for the Holy Grail, and in his travels, he comes across a fearsome knight who picks a fight with Arthur. It wasn’t the best idea, Arthur makes quick work of him and when the knight won’t yield, Arthur cuts off the knight’s arm. Then, when the knight claims it’s just a scratch, Arthur cuts his other arm off. Then the knight starts kicking Arthur, and Arthur says, “You’ve got no arms left.” “Yes, I have,” the knight replies. “It’s just a flesh wound.”


Eventually, Arthur cuts off both of the knight’s legs as well (because he still kept trying to fight Arthur), and the knight says, “Alright, we’ll call it a draw.”

So, the knight saying that his arms being cut off was just a flesh wound, that was nuts. Even more nuts was that he seemed to actually be trying to convince Arthur that he still had arms. He seemed to actually believe his own lie, but alas, saying that he still had arms didn’t change the fact that they had both just been cut off.

In a similar way, when we deny that we are one with one another, we are lying to ourselves. When we say this part of the church or that part of the church isn’t really the church, then like the knights, we’re cutting off our arms and legs and claiming it’s just a flesh wound. This goes beyond the church as well. When we harm or dismiss any human and claim that it doesn’t hurt us, we’re like that crazy knight. 

We can think that we can harm others without harming ourselves, but those lies we tell ourselves don’t make the harm any less true. The arm being cut off will never just be a flesh wound.

We are meant to live and acknowledge the truth that we are one. Anything else is a lie.

So, how does the church live out God’s mission? Well, we stop lying to ourselves. We stop pretending that we aren’t unified. We may not like other parts of the church, but as Paul points out in 1 Corinthians 12, that’s like a human body where the mouth tells the eyeballs they don’t belong. That’s a pretty stupid thing for the mouth to say, almost as stupid as one denomination telling another they aren’t really a part of the church.

I mean, I get the mouth not liking the eyeballs. To a mouth, eyeballs are just really weird. No teeth, no tongue, strangely spherical, and to eyeballs, I’m sure the mouth is equally strange. Wet without being sad, smelly, can’t see a damn thing. It’s like the Baptists and the Catholics; the two could hardly be more different, but either one saying the other doesn’t belong, well, that’s just dumb.

And, one part of the church telling another part it doesn’t belong is a lie, denying God’s mission of unity, rather than doing the hard work of living out God’s mission of unity.

Now, why do I think God’s mission of unity is hard? Well, a cross, three nails, and a crown of thorns. God’s mission of unity ain’t easy. Easy is seeing the people we don’t like and just giving in to our disgust. Easy is letting anger turn to hate. Easy is saying, they’re weird, they’re different, they’re sinners, and they’re going to hell. The lie that we aren’t one is easy. The lie that God is angry with them but not at us is easy. The lie that we follow Jesus, each one of us for our own personal salvation, and not as a part of one another, that lie is easy, as easy as saying my arm is still here when it has clearly been cut off.

Realizing and trusting that our own personal salvation has already been accomplished and that we are now meant to live out that salvation in and through one another, that truth is harder than the lie, but that truth also gives life. Just like Jesus dying on the cross was hard, but his death gave life.

So, to help us with the hard work of living out God’s mission of unity and reconciliation, God sent the Holy Spirit to unite us, to guide us, and to strengthen us so that when we don’t have enough to live God’s mission, God’s Holy Spirit can work for us, strengthening, guiding, and uniting us as one, because that is what we are. That is the work Jesus accomplished. That is the mission of God’s church which we are invited every day to live.

Wednesday, December 11, 2024

When We Know Forgiveness, We Know Salvation

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
December 8, 2024
2 Advent, C
Philippians 1:3-11
Canticle 16
Luke 3:1-6

Have you ever felt guilty about something you did? Ever felt bad about hurting someone, even if they didn’t know it, you lied or cheated, and betrayed someone’s trust or love? Have you then ever been forgiven by the one you’ve harmed for the things you’ve done?

If so, then you know the immense release that comes with forgiveness. The healing that goes on inside of us when we are forgiven, and our guilt recedes, and a weight is lifted because the one we have harmed has restored us to being ok. We’re no longer wracked with guilt. We’re no longer separated from one another. We’ve been restored to the possibility of love between one another. That is salvation.

The problem we see that needs fixing, from the Eden onward, is our disconnection from God and disconnection from one another. As we hurt one another, we pull away from one another, we put up barriers and shields to keep us safe. We walk around with anger in our hearts, showing others that we’re tougher than are so they won’t hurt us. We walk around with fear in our hearts pulling away from others before they have a chance to hurt us.

We see one another as threats, knowing that we’re often right, that others are threats, but mostly because they see us as threats.

We compete with one another out of scarcity for money, jobs, food, shelter. Since we feel we can’t trust others, we tend to go for winner take all, the American Dream of being billionaires while others work for them without enough to pay rent. Even further disconnection.

In our disconnection and mistrust, we turn to drugs, sex, alcohol, and anything else we can in order to feel better or not to feel at all. Those things don’t help, but they disconnect us even further. Angry, afraid, disconnected lives, seeing others as enemies to be feared or conquered…does that sound to anyone like Hell on Earth? That's because it is.

Disconnection is the Hell on Earth we know all too well. Salvation, then, is reconnection, reconnection with God and reconnection with one another.

John the Baptist went out into the wilderness proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, and we are told that John did this so that people would know salvation through forgiveness of their sins.

Forgiveness brings us reconnection, and reconnection is salvation from the Hell on Earth that we so often live. When we are restored to one another through repentance and forgiveness, we’re no longer separated from one another, and we are restored to the possibility of love between one another. That is salvation.

When we know forgiveness, we know salvation. 

So, as followers of Jesus, our way of life is the way of forgiveness. Ideally, we follow the way of forgiveness because we actually know the healing and salvation that forgiveness bring. Some folks maybe don’t.

Some folks might say, “no,” to the question, have they ever felt guilty about something they did. Some may be too afraid to face it or admit it. Some are so self-absorbed that they fail to recognize the harm they’ve caused, and some may even be so self-important that they wouldn’t even care much about the harm they’ve done to others even if they did recognize it.

In any case, for folks who refuse to feel guilt or who won’t or are just too unaware to feel guilt, it may be hard to really understand the salvation given by God. Perhaps that’s why John’s baptism wasn’t just a baptism of forgiveness, but a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

With repentance, we first have to understand the harm we’ve done, actually care about those we’ve harmed. Then, we repent. We change our ways. We seek to make amends and bring healing where we can to those we’ve hurt. Repentance and then forgiveness of sins. That brings about healing and restoration. Repentance and forgiveness together are our way of life, the way of healing and love.

Unfortunately, it often feels like we’ve largely divorced repentance and God’s forgiveness from this life and made it all about avoiding punishment after this life. Then we’ve further made rules out of Jesus forgiveness. Don’t feel guilty about anything you’ve done in this life? No problem. Just believe in Jesus, and he’ll forgive you. Don’t believe in Jesus, but you seek to bring about healing through repentance and forgiveness? Well, too bad, since you don’t believe in Jesus, God is going to punish you anyway.

Here's the deal with Jesus and God’s forgiveness. Yes, God forgives us. Yes, we are given forgiveness through Jesus. Yes, we are assured of punishment for the wicked, and at the same time, yes, we get to rest secure in God’s love for us and God’s forgiveness of us. How do we fit God’s punishment of the wicked together with God’s forgiveness and love? We fit God’s punishment and God’s forgiveness and love together with trust and faith.

We trust in God’s punishment, because sometimes, when we don’t realize or don’t care about the people we’ve harmed, we need God’s punishment to give us a kick in the tail, and we need God’s forgiveness and love because that is where healing and reconnection happens. When we truly feel the weight of how we’ve harmed others, and we repent and seek amendment, we feel the release and healing of forgiveness, we have salvation here on earth.

God will one day restore all things, restoring this world so that there will be no more Hell on Earth; there will be no more of us harming one another and disconnecting from one another. One day we will all be restored, God will wipe away every tear from every eye, and we will live fully in the peace and love of restoration with God and one another.

In the mean time, God’s forgiveness and love gets to be lived. We get to live the gift of forgiveness choosing and working to release anger and hurt, to release the debt that is owed, and let forgiveness rule in our hearts. As we do, we know salvation.

Sunday, July 14, 2024

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. 

Friday, September 15, 2017

Our Pre-Harvey Lives Are Dead and In the Tomb



Brad Sullivan
Proper 16, Year A
August 27, 2017
Emmanuel, Houston
Exodus 12:1-14
Romans 13:8-14
Matthew 18:15-20

Our Pre-Harvey Lives Are Dead and In the Tomb

Last Friday, I was volunteering over at FamilyPoint Resources, a little ways down Memorial from here.  Family Point has after school programs for children in this area along with other services for children and families.  With school not yet in session last week, FamilyPoint opened up to have some hang out time for the neighborhood kids, and I was there to help with that.  I spent a little bit of time on the soccer field, but mostly built LEGOs with a group kids.  It’s great getting to see what they come up with and how excited they are to show off their creations. There was the occasional dispute over, ‘that piece is mine,’ but mostly we just built together and admired each others’ creations. 

Afterwards, I was talking with the executive director, Stephanie Hruzek, about Family Point and the needs of the neighborhood.  They need folks to come help with after school, of course, and they’re also assembling teams to help muck out houses.  All are welcome to join in those efforts, by the way.  One thing that was so heartening and wonderful in Stephanie’s and my conversation  was the seeming role reversal of families that Family Point is used to serving, coming out to help serve others, be it through mucking houses, helping at Family Point, or just helping out a neighbor in any way they need.  The humanity that she has seen in the wake of Hurricane Harvey has far surpassed the damage done.  Fear of the other and fear of the unknown seem to be down right now, and our shared humanity is coming to the fore.  Stephanie shared her joy at this recognition of, this living into our shared humanity, and our hope and prayer is that this seeking out and reaching out for the other continues.

Reaching out for one another and recognizing our shared humanity feels like pre-Harvey burdens have been lifted off our shoulders, burdens we were not even all that aware of:  burdens of fearing others or ignoring others.  Amidst these burdens which we often carry, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

Jesus’ yoke is his teaching, his way.  As much as our religion has at times tried to make Jesus’ way difficult and heavy, the way of Jesus, the teachings of Jesus are easy, and light.  The way of Jesus takes other burdens off our shoulders and lightens our loads as we walk this life together.  Helping others with our post-Harvey, newfound common humanity has felt lighter than before.  This is the way and the teaching of Jesus.  Post-Harvey, we’ve been walking in the way of love, and we’ve been less encumbered by the burden of fearing the other, less encumbered by the burden of ignoring the other, less encumbered by the burden of enmity towards the other.

Friends and family who have had estrangement growing over differing political and religious beliefs have found that such differences don’t matter in the wake of Harvey.  Our petty differences and even our important differences do keep us…different, but they don’t need to divide us.  If we need to be divided, God will sort that out later on.  In all seriousness, Jesus taught on several occasions that any sorting out of the people, any dividing of humanity that needs to happen will be done by God at the end of the ages.  In the mean time, Jesus taught that we are to live with each other, sometimes to put up with each other, but above all to love each other and to live out our common humanity. 

Paul told the church in Rome to “owe no one anything except to love one another.”  The burden of fear keeps us from loving one another, and there are few heavier burdens than fear - except perhaps a desire for vengeance.  Before Paul wrote to owe no one anything except to love one another, Paul wrote, “Repay no one evil for evil…never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God…” (Romans 12:17-19)  Desire for vengeance may seem justified, but it is a heavy burden, and Jesus’ yoke, his teaching, seeks to lighten that burden.

 “If another member of the church sins against you,” Jesus taught, “go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.”

Ok, so if we’re being honest, going up to the person who has hurt you and going to them with your heart in your hand letting them know that they hurt you is not an easy task.  Doing so requires courage and vulnerability.  You might just get hurt again.  Going to someone and seeking reconciliation, however, is so much easier and lighter than carrying around the burden of hurt forever.  The weight of carrying that pain around is hard and heavy, carrying the accompanying fear and mistrust takes are hearts of flesh and turns them into hearts of stone, weighing us down even further.  We trust less and less and fear more and more, when we don’t seek reconciliation, and then we end up with our pre-Harvey burdens of fearing the other, ignoring the other, and holding enmity for the other.  Seeking reconciliation is a far easier and lighter burden than the burden of carrying fear, mistrust, and enmity.    

Even if you can’t be reconciled, Jesus taught that you still don’t carry the enmity around.  You drop it.  You let it go.  If you can’ t be reconciled, then let that person be to you as a gentile and a tax collector.  On the one hand, you’re considering that person to be outside of your life, apart from you.  On the other hand, what grudge would you hold against someone who is not a part of you?  Let the grudge go, let the person go, and wipe the slate clean.  It would be up to the other person at that point to rebuild the relationship.  At the same time, gentiles and tax collectors were a part of Jesus’ and the early church’s mission field, so there is a writing off and a starting over in Jesus’ teaching about when reconciliation doesn’t occur.  Death and resurrection.  Such is the way of Jesus.  Such is his easy yoke and his light burden.

Our shared humanity, seeking out the other without fear, forgiving and actively seeking reconciliation:  these are ways of Jesus that we absolutely need in our post-Harvey lives, and what we need in our post-Harvey life as Emmanuel.  We need each other.  We always did, but pre-Harvey, we felt secure enough in other things not to realize our need for each other quite so acutely.


Our pre-Harvey lives are dead and in the tomb.   Our post-Harvey lives and post-Harvey life as Emmanuel is emerging from the tomb.  Post-Harvey, we have been woken from sleep, and we realize just how much we need each other.  More than a building, more than programs, we need each other.  Emmanuel Episcopal Church & School is a new creation by water and the Word.



We need to stay joined together, and we need to discover new ways to join together as well.  In our post-Harvey, resurrected life, we need to keep reaching out into our community.  We are a church, a people, without a building right now, and this is a challenge for us, and it is also a wonderful opportunity to live into our common humanity.  Without our building to gather in and serve from, we get to gather and serve in other people’s buildings.  We get to gather and serve in other people’s homes.  We get to join with our neighbors as they gather and serve us. 

With prayer and reconciliation, we get to continue in this resurrected life, sharing in our common humanity as a new creation by water and the Word, following in the easy way and light burden of Jesus.

Monday, February 27, 2017

The Freedom to Fail



Brad Sullivan
Last Epiphany, Year A
February 26, 2017
Emmanuel, Houston
Matthew 17:1-9

The Freedom to Fail

“Man glows on top of mountain, disciples respond stupidly” I think that’s pretty much what the newspaper headline would read for the transfiguration.  The article would follow:
Itinerant preacher and Rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth, stunned his disciples yesterday when, in a remarkable lack of his characteristic humility, Jesus began glowing on top of a mountain, revealing himself as God, and then asking his Father for a mic drop, as a bright cloud covered the terrified disciples and God’s voice declared Jesus to be his son. 

The article would go on and probably miss a lot of the grace that was going on with the Transfiguration, the newspaper reporter totally transfixed by the majesty and awe.  To be fair, I’ve been transfixed by the majesty and awe of the Transfiguration many times.  Jesus’ full divinity shining in and through his full humanity, it really is pretty darn spectacular, and at the same time, to be honest, having preached about the Transfiguration at least one out of every two Sundays the story comes to us each year for the past eleven years, the excitement and splendor of Jesus glowing on top of the mountain just wasn’t speaking to me this time.  What struck me about the Transfiguration this time around was not the majesty and awe of God, but the grace of God. 

The disciples were terrified, right, face down in the dirt, trembling with fear, and Jesus saw his disciples and with the gentle touch of a mother or father comforting a frightened child, Jesus leaned over them and said, “It’s ok, you can get up now.  You don’t have to be afraid.”

I’d never noticed before this week that Jesus touched his disciples, that gentle, comforting, loving gesture, but there it was, a touch full of compassion and understanding, a touch full of grace.  That touch is how Jesus responded to his disciples when they were overcome by sheer terror at the majesty and awesomeness of God.

Like the disciples, I too have experienced sheer terror, the day after my son was born.  First there was immense love, joy, excitement, majesty, awe, wonder at my son’s birth…all of that followed by sheer terror when the nurses let us know that they weren’t continue to help us with the baby boy, but we actually had to take him home and care for him ourselves.  “Can’t we just make a booth for him here and come visit?” 

My point is that when my first son was born, I had a strong sense of awe at the responsibility of having helped to create a new human person and then the responsibility of caring for, loving, and nurturing that person.  I did not feel ready for it, and amidst the joy, and wonder, and absolute love of holding my baby boy for the first time, I also found myself on my knees, face down in the dirt, feeling completely unworthy of such a task.  So, I think I get some of what the disciples were going through up on the mountain, and then amidst the awe and wonder, excitement and joy, as well as terror and feeling totally inadequate and unworthy, Jesus touched them and me and said, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  “It’s ok that y’all are terrified.  It’s ok that you’re feeling totally inadequate to the task.  I’m here.  I’m with you.  Keep listening to me, as my dad just said.  Get up, and do not be afraid.”

For all of us in all of those times in our lives when we’re driven to our knees by how inadequate we are, Jesus touches us on the shoulder and says, “Get up, and do not be afraid.  You may well not be up to the task, and that’s ok.”  In that gentle touch, in those words, get up and do not be afraid, Jesus has given us the freedom to fail.  He’s given us the freedom to follow him, to strive, to mess up, and to fail, face down in the dirt, fail. 

I read an article in the most recent New Yorker about children’s author Mo Willems.  His books are some of our family’s favorites, and the article talked about his how his books
reveal a preoccupation with failure, even an alliance with it.  In ‘Elephants Cannot Dance!,’ they can’t; in ‘Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!,’ Pigeon, despite all his pleading and cajoling, never does.  Willems told [The New Yorker], ‘At “Sesame Street,” they would give us these workshops about the importance of failure, but then in our skits all the characters had to be great at what they did, everything had to work out.  That drove me crazy.’
The article went on a bit about artists understanding the importance of failure, and I was struck by Willems’ understanding of children needing to learn not only the important lessons that come with failure, but also that it is ok to fail, otherwise our worth is predicated upon our success.  You remember that time in Matthew’s gospel when Jesus told his disciples that they had to succeed in everything they did if they wanted to be worthy of him and his Father?  Yeah, me neither.

The freedom to fail means the freedom to risk, the freedom to strive, the freedom to dare greatly, and to end up face down in the dirt, to be met by Jesus’ gentle touch saying, “It’s ok.  Get up, and do not be afraid.”

The freedom to fail that Jesus has given us also means Jesus has given us the freedom to follow him as his disciples and to join our lives with his, continuing his movement in the world, living and bringing about his Kingdom of love.  Following in Jesus’ way, the heart of Jesus that begins to grow in us saying, “I want to offer that love and freedom to fail to others.  I want to offer that healing, gentle touch to others.  I see people down on their knees - some in fear, some having been beaten down there by life, some with heavy burdens on their backs so they can no longer stand.  I want to offer them that gentle touch of Jesus so they too can be healed, live without that fear or anything else driving them to their knees so that they can stand and be not afraid and know the love of being loved.

Sometimes this is in big work, offering food and shelter to folks in need.  Folks come by here fairly regularly asking for help with money or food, sometimes the same people come fairly regularly.  One instinct we can have is to wonder, “What’s going on?  Why aren’t you getting things together that you keep having to come back here?”  That’s an instinct I have, an instinct that I wrestle with.  Jesus’ freedom to fail, however, says something very different.  Jesus’ freedom to fail sees someone face down in the dirt and offers them neither judgment nor ridicule, but a gentle touch and the words, “Get up and do not be afraid.”

We don’t always know the right thing to do, but following Jesus, when we see people face down in the dirt, we offer them grace and love, rather than judgment and criticism.  This can also come in really simple ways.  I was in a doctors’ office several months ago with, I don’t know, one of our kids, and I struck up a conversation with a mother in the waiting room.  We quickly began talking about the challenges of parenting and the stresses of our children, and about five minutes in, you’d have thought raising kids was the worst thing in the world.  Apparently we needed to get that off of our chests. 

Then I thought, “where’s the grace of Jesus in all this?”  Where’s that gentle touch saying, “get up and do not be afraid.”  So during a lull in the conversation, I asked, “tell me about a recent moment of grace with your kids.”  The whole conversation shifted.  We began talking about how fantastic our little buggers are, how much we love our kids, even though they often are little buggers, and we even began talking about our mutual faith in Jesus.  Realize, we had just met, but that one simple question, “tell me about a recent moment of grace with your kids,” that question was the gentle touch of Jesus, lifting our heads out of the dirt and allowing us not to be hidden by our failures as parents, but engaged with one another such that we could even risk sharing our faith, in a doctors’ office.  It was a small moment, but it was the Kingdom of God being lived out, two people recognizing their mutual brokenness, connecting through the grace and gentle touch of Jesus, and then being healed even in that moment, being reconciled within themselves and with another person.  With that small moment of Jesus touching us and saying “get up and do not be afraid,” we each got to be a little bit more fully human, a little bit more reconciled to God, to the other, and to ourselves. 

That is life in the Kingdom of God.  That’s life in the Jesus movement, where Jesus has given us the freedom to fail, the freedom to risk for the sake of reconciliation and love.  Jesus has given us the freedom to receive his gentle touch and to offer that gentle touch of Jesus to others, saying, “Get up, and do not be afraid.”