Showing posts with label The Jesus Heist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Jesus Heist. Show all posts

Monday, July 30, 2018

Kneeling to Jesus, to Freedom, to the Man Who Wouldn't Be King

Brad Sullivan
Proper 12, Year B
July 29, 2018
Emmanuel, Houston
Ephesians 3:14-21
John 6:1-21

Kneeling to Jesus, to Freedom, to the Man Who Wouldn’t Be King

I was at a teacher’s party last week with Kristin, for the teachers at her school; spouses were invited, and we actually got to see each other, which was lovely.  We were meeting at one of their houses, and the Astros game was on, so as we were talking, we’d catch glances of the game, and unfortunately, the Astros were losing to the Texas Rangers.  So at one point, the host and I were watching the game for a few minutes, and he rather sheepishly admitted to me that he was, in fact, a Rangers fan, having lived in Dallas for many years, and was rather happy with the score. 

There was no problem, but there was a hint of a possibility of a problem.  Was it ok for him to admit that he was a Rangers fan?  Was I going to get upset and offended and think less of  him?  Did his identity as a Rangers fan somehow butt against and attack my identity as an Astros fan?  No, of course not.  Except for that passing split second when it did.  So deep is our need for identity and some feeling of power and control, that even people rooting for a different team in a game in which we’re not playing, can feel a little bit like an attack.

This idea of our desire for power and control was expressed very well in the Marvel superhero movie, The Avengers.  Simplifying the plot to bare bones, you’ve got Loki, the bad guy from another world, who wants to rule over a planet and be king of an entire people, so he chooses earth.  After causing a good amount of destruction, Loki has a crowd of people before him, and he tells them all to kneel before him.  Then he grins a little triumphantly and says,

Loki:    “Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It’s the unspoken truth of humanity that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for power.  For identity. You were made to be ruled.  In the end, you will always kneel.”

Captain America and Iron Man end up saving the day in that scene, but there is so much truth in that little speech and dialogue.  Our mad scramble for power, for identity.  We want to belong, and that belonging ties in with our identity.  That’s why you have people fighting with each other and getting serious, even angry and violent in speech and action over things like sports teams. 

We also desire power over the changes and chances of this life.  Millenia of war exhibit our desire for power and how we seek power over others sometimes for protection, for identity, for one group’s wrong ideology or way of life.  We do desire power over situations we don’t like or decisions with which we disagree, and in our desire to make the situation or outcome be what we want, we often respond to others with verbal and sometimes even physical violence. 

That’s what Loki did.  Then, at the end of his little speech, as Loki says, “you will always kneel,” a man stands up and says,

German Man:  “Not to men like you.

Loki:    “There are no men like me.” (Loki responds.)

German Man:  “There are always men like you.”

There are always people like Loki who seek power over others.  There are always people like Loki who seek to subjugate people or situations to their wills or desires.  If we look deep inside, those people like Loki are all of us.  We all desire power over the changes and chances of this life, and we all, in our less that wonderful moments, end up using power to get what we want in ways that cause harm or subjugate others to our wills.

Paradoxically, as much as we desire power, Loki was right that we also seek subjugation.  Most of us want people in governmental authority over us, and most of us don’t want those jobs.  There are areas in which we want power, and there are areas where we’d rather be subjugated to someone else’s power, a good ruler, and to let that person take over responsibility.

There is peace in surrender.  There is the peace of child who doesn’t have the weight of ruling over the household.  Think of Israel demanding of God a king to rule over them.  God warned them, “he is going to subjugate you under his will,” and the people responded, “that’s fine, just so long as we can have a king to rule over us.”

During Jesus’ day, Israel had a puppet king ruling over them, while Rome was actually in charge.  They didn’t like this king; things were not good under his rule or under the rule of Rome, and when people kept seeing Jesus’ power to heal, to perform miraculous works, they decided he should be king.  “When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.”

Jesus would not be the ruler over us in any kind of system of power and authority of this world. 

Bishop Doyle writes about Jesus’ rejection of the power and violence of the world in his book, The Jesus Heist.  He writes, “Jesus makes clear that violence is to be met with peace and nonviolence.”  “The way of the society of the friends of Jesus [is to] avail themselves of different weapons [than the weapons of this world]:  presence, conversation, and humility.”  That’s what Jesus did with people.  He had dinner with them.  He talked with people.  He was with them in their lives, joys, and struggles.  In Jesus, Bishop Doyle writes we are freed from the systems of violence and domination in this world, through unity with Jesus and conversion in him.

There is a paradox of surrendering to Jesus.  All power and authority is his, and he will not use that power and authority to subjugate us.  Jesus is not going to force and control us.  Surrender to Jesus’ power and authority is surrender to freedom in Jesus.

Freedom to love without fear.  Freedom to love others and live out the image of God in which we were made.  Freedom to let go our anger and our hurt which lead us to want control over situations and control over others:  in the board room, in our homes, at work, on the freeway.  We have freedom in Jesus to let go of our desires for control and realize, it’s ok to forsake the anger, and fear, and hurt within us, and to live love instead.

There is freedom in Jesus to accept the changes and chances of the life.  Freedom from the need for fear and violence to keep us safe and secure.  When a loving parent tucks a child in to bed at night, sometimes laying down with them as they drift off to sleep, giving them a blessing on their forehead, fears and worries slip away, and the child rests secure, knowing that all is well.  Mommy and Daddy are there.

Our surrender to Jesus is like that child with a loving parent.  In Jesus, we can rest secure and at peace, even with the changes and chances of this life. 

Back to Loki in his mad quest for power, he was right that we will always kneel to something.  Kneeling to Jesus, we kneel to one with all power and authority who chooses not to rule over us through his power and chooses not to force us to do anything at all.  Instead, we bow to kneel to Jesus, and he frees us to live and love without fear. 

As Paul wrote, “I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.”

Paul goes on to pray that we may have some comprehension of the vastness of the love of Jesus, so that as we kneel to him, we may be filled with the full peace and love of God, resting secure that the power of God working in us can accomplish far more than we can ask or imagine.  We kneel to Jesus and find freedom, freedom to love and live without fear. 

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

God Is In the Grind



Brad Sullivan
Last Sunday after the Epiphany
February 11, 2018
Emmanuel, Houston
2 Corinthians 4:3-6
Mark 9:2-9

God Is In the Grind
                                                                                                              
Have you ever been outside walking around and then looked up and been startled, scared even, by a hideous, almost other worldly beast staring at you with hungry eyes, vicious teeth, and razor sharp claws, only to have your eyes refocus and realize you were in fact looking at a tree branch?  The tree branch didn’t change, only how your eyes saw the tree branch changed.  I wonder if that isn’t something like what happened to Peter and James and John with the transfiguration.  Rather than Jesus changing before their eyes, perhaps what changed was their eyes’ ability to see for a few minutes something they had not previously been able to see:  the radiance and majesty of the light of Jesus.  Perhaps even, Moses and Elijah had been there previously as well, unseen and unheard by Peter, and James, and John, until God changed something within them and allowed them to see and experience more of the world than any of us are able to see or experience with our regular senses. 

Perhaps Jesus took Peter, and James, and John up to the mountain top in order to change something of their ability to see and experience the world for a short time, so that they saw not only the majesty of Jesus, but also the majesty of God’s kingdom in which those who have died are still alive and well with God, and the world.  Perhaps then, when God turned the dimmer switch back down on Jesus and Moses and Elijah disappeared, what they had seen on the mountain didn’t cease to be, but only their ability to see it.  As beautiful and wonderful as the world is then, what they saw for a short time was that the world is far more beautiful than they or we could ever have imagined. 

Little wonder then that they wanted to make booths and stay there.  In any mountain top experience, any jaw dropping, mind blowing, beautiful experience of our lives, we tend to want to stay in that moment, rather than come back down to earth to the drudgery of daily life.  As much as we like to poke fun at Peter for seemingly always saying the wrong thing, I have a feeling we’d have all wanted to stay up on the mountain a little while longer as well. 

I wonder then how Peter, and James, and John saw the world once they came back down the mountain.  Did the world seem dull by comparison?  Maybe, but I sure hope not.  I hope instead that after Jesus’ transfiguration, the world seemed to Peter, and James, and John to be alight with possibility and alive with wonder.  I hope they realized that everything they saw up on that mountain was still there in the regular old mundane world, just simply hidden from their eyes.

I would say that’s the reason for any mountain top experience, any jaw dropping, mind blowing, beautiful realization of the majesty of God and his kingdom all around us.  We’re never meant to stay on top of the mountain.  The only reason we go up the mountain to see Jesus transfigured before us is so that we can come down the mountain and also see Jesus in the miracle of the mundane, the non-dopamine laced divinity of the daily drudge.  Every moment is a possibility for love and wonder.  Every person we see is a beautiful miracle of God’s design, made with the spark of God’s image and the dust of our common humanity out of which we are all made and to which we all go.  We go up the mountain in order to come down, realizing Jesus is just as transfigured at the bottom of the mountain as at the top, even if we can’t see it

Bishop Doyle writes similarly in his book, The Jesus Heist: (p. 67)
The only reason to come into a community [for worship] is so you can learn how to leave it and do the real work of worship - being with Christ in the world around us.  This is how we show the love of God - we go and love people, heal people, care for people, live with people, eat with people.  We go and discover where Jesus is in the world and join his work there.

Whether the mountain, or church service, or any experience we have of the divine, we’re never meant to stay, we’re meant to live, and we’re meant to realize that the rest of our lives are every bit as sacred.  As mundane as our lives may seem at times, they and we are all part of something bigger and far more beautiful than we can see or imagine. 

Something as simple as a kind gesture.  Giving a cup of cold water to a kid who is thirsty, as Jesus said…or an old person who is thirsty for that matter.  Going to work or school each day at a job that does not satisfy or an education that seems pointless, God is there just as much as on the mountain top in the miracle of the mundane. 

What in us keeps us from seeing the miracle of the mundane and the divinity of the daily drudge?  How about our wounds?  How about our desires to make the world be how we want it rather than to accept the world as it is?  What if we were to give some of those wounds and desires to God so that he might heal them and transform us so that we could see the miracle of the mundane and the divinity of the daily drudge? 

That’s kinda what Lent is all about, which we start this Wednesday.  That is why we give things up during Lent, and so my suggestion is this:  rather than give up something simple like Diet Coke or Chocolate, try giving up some of your woundedness which keeps you from seeing the miracle of the mundane.  Try giving up some of your desires for control which keep you from seeing the divinity of the daily drudge…or perhaps, do try giving up something as mundane as Diet Coke or Chocolate and see the miracle of the world in even so simple a sacrifice. 

In any case, realize that the sacrifice, like the mountain top, like the community gathering for worship is not the point, is not where we stay.  The sacrifice, like the mountain top, like the community gathering for worship is done so that we can then come back down the mountain, leave the gathering for worship and “do the real work of worship - to show the love of God by loving people, healing people, caring for people, living with people, eating with people:  going and discovering where Jesus is in the [mundane] everyday world and joining his work there,” for God is in the work, the common work of eating with people, living with people, working with people, getting angry with and reconciling with people, caring for people, healing people, loving people, and seeing people as brothers and sisters.  That is the work where God is at the bottom of the mountain.

God is in the grind of daily life.  Realizing that truth, trusting that God is in the grind just as much as on the mountain, we can spend the grind in worship and prayer, in communion with God, every moment a miracle, every step a sacred act, resting in God’s presence, even in the mundanity of daily life, for God is in the grind.