Sharing the Music that Is in Us

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets
March 17, 2024
5 Lent, Year B
Jeremiah 31:31-34
Psalm 51:1-13
John 12:20-33

Sharing the Music that Is in Us

Jesus’ response to the news that some Greeks were looking for him seems odd. Really, most of Jesus’ responses to people in John’s Gospel seem odd. In this case, his disciples tell him some Greeks are looking for him, and he says, “The hour has come for the son of man to be glorified.” 

Just before this, Jesus had come into Jerusalem, and huge crowds had been cheering for him. While he was riding into town, the Pharisees looked to one another and said, “You see, you can do nothing. Look, the whole world has gone after him.” The fact that some Greeks had come to speak to Jesus seems to confirm what the Pharisees said. “The whole world has gone after [Jesus].” As much as they’d wanted to keep the whole Jesus movement from spreading, the cat was officially out of the bag and there was no stopping it now.

They were right. Early church had no buildings or organized support. They could not worship in the synagogues, nor in the Roman temples, and yet the church, spread like wildfire. People believed in Jesus. They trusted him. They found healing in Jesus. They found love. So, they ministered to others out of that same love, offering that same healing. 

As God had said through the prophet Jeremiah, “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God. I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.” People were loved, forgiven, and healed, and God’s law, God’s love, was written on their hearts. 

See, there’s hearing and learning about the way of God’s love, and then there’s living the way of God’s love. As a musician, I think about the practice that goes into playing songs, getting them fully under your fingers and into your voice. You practice, and practice, and practice, and eventually, you leave the practice room, and you play the songs for others. There’s risk in that, risk in offering that music to be received by others, but it’s also a beautiful offering. When you’ve worked at it so the music is written in your heart, then it’s a beautiful offering and sharing of song and story. 

I saw Guy Forsyth play a show last week, and boy does he play. He practices a lot, and then he risks the stage. He plays those songs written in his heart, and his risk is worth it. His connection to the audience is beautiful. The stories he tells through his music, the human connection he brings, receiving his offering of music is healing.

When the music is written in your heart, then you can play, you can risk, and that brings healing and love to the world.

That healing and love is what happens when the Gospel of Jesus is written in our hearts. We leave the practice room, we risk, we play, and that brings healing and love to the world. 

Jesus talked about the risk of playing the Gospel. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies,” he said, “it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”

Early followers of Jesus risked for the sake of the healing and love of the Gospel. They risked being kicked out of their synagogues, and they were kicked out of their synagogues. Gentiles risked being ostracized, and they were. 

The Gospel of Jesus demands risk. It demands being booed off stage, and if we are, ok. We practice some more, we allow the love and healing of Jesus to be written even more fully in our hearts, and we risk again. We risk not only for our sake, but for the sake of others.

We risk being peacemakers. We risk connection with one another. We risk offering the faith that is in us. We risk trusting in Jesus and following in his ways, rather than holding on so tightly to our lives out of fear of loss, that we end up hurting others and ourselves in the process. 

Our futures are uncertain. Jesus told us they would be. Following Jesus means risking that uncertainty. Jesus risked everything for our sake, for the sake of all people. “’Now is the judgment of this world;” Jesus said, “now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.’ He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.” (John 12:33)

How did Jesus know that he would be raised and lifted up from the earth after he was crucified? My guess is he didn’t know it. He believed it. How did Jesus know that he would draw all people to himself? My guess is he didn’t know it. He believed it. How did he know that people wouldn’t simply forget, not believe, or ignore his life, message, and resurrection? My guess is he didn’t know it. He believed it. Jesus believed that people would receive his offering, receive his way of love and forgiveness. Jesus believed that people would receive the healing he offered and that they would then risk as he did to offer that same healing of forgiveness and love to others. 

Jesus believed in God, in forgiveness and love, and because of that belief, he risked everything for the sake of all humanity. He invites us, then to risk as well, for the sake of his Gospel and for the sake of humanity. Jesus invites us to risk for the sake of people who may hear, receive, and live the forgiveness and love of Jesus through the risks we take. Jesus invites us to risk forgiveness and love of others.

If we just talk about Jesus’ forgiveness and love to others, just tell people about it, then we’re really still in the practice room. If we mostly talk about Jesus’ Gospel, then I’m not sure it’s truly written on our hearts yet. When we live Jesus’ forgiveness and love, that’s when Jesus is written on our hearts. When we truly forgive and love others, that’s when we’re risking. Living Jesus’ forgiveness and love is when we’re out of the practice room and on stage, offering our music to others, making that connection, sharing the beauty and healing of the music that is in us.

“F%&k You Jobu, I’ll Do It Myself.”

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church
October 10, 2021
Proper 23, B

Mark 10:17-31

“F%&k You Jobu, I’ll Do It Myself.”

In the 1989 movie, Major League, star slugger, Pedro Cerano, could hit the ball clear out of the park as often and with a swing almost as beautiful as Yordan Alvarez’. Unfortunately, in the movie Major League, Pedro Cerano, superstar slugger, could not hit a curve ball, nor could he presumably lay off of them? So, he routinely stuck out as other teams realized that the curve ball was his Kryptonite. 

The best solution might have been to work with a hitting coach, but alas, Pedro’s solution came in the form of a tiny, crazy-haired statue of a wild-eyed man he called Jobu. Pedro offered Jobu rum and cigars, and once even a whole chicken (KFC) in order to help him hit the curve ball. Jobu was a straight up idol which Pedro was using to try to make his life easier. When it kept not working, Pedro finally said, “[To heck with] you, Jobu, I’ll do it myself,” at which point he of course hit a curve ball out of the park.

I bring this up, one because I’m a little excited about the Astros and the postseason, and two, because Pedro’s use of Jobu is a pretty good example of an idol being used to try to make life easier. Ancient idols, carved or sculpted, set in homes and prayed to were meant to keep bad things away, to make life easier. Idols were thought to grant your requests if you prayed to them just right, if you gave them rum and cigars and whole chickens.

Now, many of us don’t have small statue idols like Jobu that we use to try to make life easier, but idols can come in many forms. For the man who asked Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”, his idol was his wealth. His wealth, his riches, his stuff made life easier, and he seems to have believed that he could’t be happy unless life was easy, that he couldn’t be happy unless life wasn’t hard. See, unlike Jobu, the rich man’s idol seems to have been working for him in making his life less hard. So, when Jesus told him to set aside his money, the idol that made life easier, he thought that he couldn’t be ok without it. He believed that he couldn’t be ok if life was hard, so he walled himself off from life in God’s kingdom.

Here’s a secret, life is always going to be hard, at least hard at times, and no amount of rum offered to Jobu is going to change that. 

“How hard it will be,” Jesus said, “for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of heaven.” How hard it will be to enter the kingdom of heaven for those who fear life being hard and aren’t willing to risk life being hard. That was the challenge for the rich man whose idol was his money. Well, here’s another secret, you don’t gotta be rich to have idols get in the way of risking for the kingdom of God.

Will I be ok? Will I have enough? Will I be enough? Do I have enough money, time, experience, expertise? How will I possibly be ok if I give up much of anything that I have? These are fears that I dare say all of us face, and I dare say most of us have some kind of Jobu to which we offer rum. Sometimes that idol is simply walling ourselves off from risk. 

Into all of that fear and unknowing, Jesus is teaching us to trust God in the unknowing, accepting the fact that yes, things may fall apart, and to trust that we are enough (and there are others with us). Jesus is teaching that we can never offer Jobu enough rum to safeguard against life being hard, so be ok with taking risks and giving things up for the sake of God’s kingdom.

“We gave stuff up!” Peter said in his very very Peter way. “Yes,” Jesus replied, “and you are going to receive much more, people around you to support you so that you will be ok even without as much money, time, or rum and cigars to offer to Jobu.” 

Jesus’ disciples gave up the protection of life as they knew it in order to live life in God’s kingdom with new people, new situations. Often we protect ourselves by walling ourselves off from new situations. We keep ourselves from entering new relationships and new situations for which we feel we are not enough. Our walls feel like they make life easier, but remember what God did to make life easier in Genesis 2? God made a human companion. Humans were made to be helpers and supports for each other. We find wholeness in new relationships and risk because we were meant to be there for each other. That’s life in God’s kingdom.

So, for a way that we can be there for each other and for others, to risk new relationships, I’m going to turn things over to Kathryn Johnson, Counselor at Rhodes Elementary school. We have begun a partnership with Rhodes Elementary to serve and minister there, and Mrs. Johnson is going to talk with us about the school and how we can serve and minister there.

…

…

Jesus is calling us in this time and in this place, in our new home, to risk for the sake of relationship, connection, and service in God’s kingdom. Serving and ministering at Rhodes is one of the ways Jesus is calling us, and the usual questions probably arise. Will I have enough time? Do I have enough expertise? What do I know about serving with kids? I’m too old to relate, or I’m too inexperienced to know what I’m doing.

With our questions, doubts and uncertainties, realize there will never be enough protection, there will never be enough rum for Jobu to make us ready or enough. Like the man with great wealth, Jesus is calling us to life in his kingdom, even though it may be hard. He’s also assuring us that what we’ll find in serving others is the peace that we’re looking for. What we find in giving up our various Jobus, in risking new relationships in new situations, is that we actually are enough; we actually can hit that curve ball. We actually don’t need all of our protection to make life less hard. We have each other, and we have a wonderful new opportunity to serve and live the life of God’s kingdom.

Walking On Water: The Martyr of Charlottesville

Brad Sullivan

Proper 14, Year A

August 13, 2017

Emmanuel, Houston

Matthew 14:22-33

Walking On Water:  The Martyr of Charlottesville

Jesus was the Word of God which spoke all of creation into existence.  On some level, even subconsciously, I’d guess Jesus began to have some inkling of who he was.  I wonder if in his encounter with his disciples on the boat, Jesus just forgot for a minute that humans can’t walk on water.  He was tired; it had been a long day.   He’d gone away to be by himself to pray for a while after learning that his cousin, John the Baptist had been beheaded, and instead of getting a break, Jesus ended up teaching and multiplying food some somewhere around 10,000 people (including the women and children).  Finally, after all that, he sends his disciples across the sea in their boat while he gets to spend some time alone in prayer.

So, worn out, dog tired, Jesus spent time alone in prayer, and I think he might have been so caught up in his time with his Father, that he just totally forgot that people aren’t really that adept at walking on things that aren’t solid.  So, like Superman forgetting to put his glasses back on before going to the office, Jesus just starts walking on the sea out to his disciples.  Why not?  Why shouldn’t he walk on the sea?  He made the sea, after all.

So, he’s walking out onto the water, lost in thought, barely aware of his surroundings.  Eventually a storm comes, and he’s thinking, “eh, not too bad, I’ve made worse,” and then the disciples see him.  They’re terrified, and he realizes what’s going on.  He covers as best he can, saying, “Ok, guys, I know this looks weird, but it’s not what you’re thinking.  I’m not a ghost.  It’s just I; It’s just Jesus.”  That calms them a little, and then Peter’s like, “Hey cool, Jesus, can I come out and play?”  Perfect, Jesus thinks.   “You bet, Pete!  Come on!”

Then we all know what happens.  Peter walks on the water for a while, until he notices the wind and waves, and like Wiley Coyote walking off a cliff and staying aloft until he looks down, Peter starts to sink.  So, Jesus picks him up, gets them both into the boat and decides he’s had enough of his little wind storm, dials that down a bit, and tries to pass the whole thing off, real nonchalant,  “so what’s been going on, fellas?”

They start to get the idea pretty quickly that Jesus is more than a prophet, but the Lord of all creation, the one who actually made all of creation.  I’m guessing they got pretty excited at that point, excited and amazed at the wonder of it all.    

I get really excited when I think of the Word of God who spoke creation into existence becoming human and walking on this earth.  I love that God was human and walked on this very earth.  Whenever I start to take the world for granted, that very idea of God walking on this earth makes the whole creation hallowed again.

Then we get people treating creation like garbage.  We get people like the angry mob in Charlottesville, Virginia over the weekend deciding that only some parts of creation are hallowed, only some types of people are hallowed.  All people are made in God’s image.  All  of creation is hallowed, and yet, despite the beauty and sacredness of people and all creation, people will all too often de-sanctify creation by driving a car into a group of people, killing someone for thinking that racism isn’t a particularly good idea.

Imagine those folks holding a rally within these walls, declaring most of humanity damned.  Imagine people coming in here with shields and sticks and guns, ready and willing to physically harm anyone who disagreed with them.  Imagine that folks who disagreed with them did come in here and were beaten and killed.  That is exactly what happened in Charlottesville, because in God’s eyes, all of creation is hallowed.  Every place is a place of worship.  Everywhere Jesus looks and says, “This place is great; I remember making this place.  I remember speaking this place into existence, and I love this place.”  The same goes for every person on earth, yes, even the angry mob of people who assume that God hates most of the people he created.

Hatred and violence.  Shame and anger.  Assuming one type of person is better than another type of person.  Jesus was pretty darn clear that we are all the same in God’s eyes.  Jesus was pretty darn clear that he loves all people and he loves all of this beautiful Earth which he created.  He was also pretty darn clear that as much as he loves all people, there is no place in his kingdom for the kinds of thoughts and actions demonstrated by the angry white supremacist mob in Charlottesville.

Now, if we’re honest with ourselves, we all have hatred, anger, and violence within us too.  Everyone does.  The question is, what are we going to do with it, and what Jesus calls us to do, what he teaches us to do with our hatred, anger, and violence is not to act it out, not to act upon it, but rather to give it to him, to place it at the foot of the cross so that he can transform it into love.

That is often not done, however, and we have a world that is full of anger, hatred, and violence (as well as love).  So, what are we to do amidst such anger, hatred, and violence?  Well, let’s call the anger, hatred, and violence of the world storms and waves.  Then, let’s do what Peter did.  Amidst the storms and the waves, we look up and see Jesus coming to us, not where we expect, not in the quiet sanctuary, but right in the middle of the storms and waves, right in the middle of the hatred, anger, and violence.  Then, rather than waiting for Jesus to come to us in the safety of the boat, the sanctuary, we ask Jesus to summon us out into the storms and waves.  Rumor has it, he’ll say yes.  Then, like Peter did, we step out of the sanctuary and risk drowning in order to go and be with Jesus amidst the storms and waves.  We risk drowning, going out into the anger, hatred, and violence to be the light of Jesus within the storm.

Sometimes we’re not even entirely sure what we’re going to do there.  We want to bring the light of Jesus with us.  We want to live out the way, the truth, and the life of Jesus amidst the storms and waves, and it is darn scary.  We just may be killed if we go out amidst the storms and waves.  A 32 year old woman was killed in Charlottesville by a man who drove his car into a group of people who stepped out of the boat amidst the storm of anger, hatred, and violence to declare that anger, hatred, and violence have no place in this world.  This woman risked and gave her life to give witness to love rather than hatred.  That’s what we call a martyr, a witness.  I don’t even know if she was Christian, but I know she was amidst the storm, declaring the light of love for all, not just some.  She gave her life for that witness, and that is martyrdom.

Stepping out amidst the storms and waves of anger, hatred, and violence, we too will risk drowning.  We’ll risk our lives and well-being to live out and be the light of Jesus amidst the darkness of hatred, anger, and violence.  When Peter stared to sink, Jesus reached down and picked him up.  I’d like to say that his doing so is a guarantee that so long as we ask Jesus for help, we won’t be harmed, but that simply isn’t true.  Peter began sinking because he became overcome with fear of the storm and waves.  The call to Jesus keeps us from being overcome with fear, keeps us from succumbing to the anger, hatred, and violence ourselves.  The call to Jesus doesn’t guarantee that we won’t be harmed.  The call to Jesus keeps our hearts from falling into hatred, anger, and violence.  The call to Jesus keeps the darkness from overcoming the light of Jesus within us.

Truly to  be the light of Jesus amidst the darkness of anger, hatred, and violence, we truly do need to risk drowning, to risk not only our lives and well-being, but also to risk being overcome by the darkness.  In all likelihood, we will be overcome by the darkness at times, and in those times, we call out to Jesus to save us, to reach his hand out, pull us out of the storm and waves and put us back into the boat, the sanctuary.  Then, once we’ve recovered, we step out of the boat, amidst the storm and waves once again to risk our lives and well-being, to be the light of Jesus amidst the darkness of hatred, anger, and violence once again.

Risk is part of the deal to live as Jesus’ disciples.  We’ve got to risk drowning to walk out on the water with Jesus.  We also need to be able to see the beauty and sacredness of the people and creation all around us, even amidst the storm and waves.  We realize the waves are there, but don’t get too daunted by the waves.  Keep your eyes on Jesus.  Imagine the magic, the possibility, the wonder of seeing him walking to you on the water.  Imagine the magic, the possibility, the wonder of asking him if you can come out and play too, and Jesus saying ,”yes.”