"That's All" - Locking Jesus Out (and letting him back in)

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
May 25, 2025
6 Easter, C

Lord of the Streets, Houston

Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5
Psalm 67
John 14:23-29

So, I’m gonna talk today a little bit about demons, which is always tons of fun, and it may seem kinda weird because there weren’t any demons in our Gospel reading today. It was really all about Jesus making his home with us, and I’m gonna get to that, but thinking about Jesus making his home with us make me also think about other things that make their homes with us.

Anger can make its home with us. Violence can make its home with us. Fear and resentment can make their homes with us. We have all sorts of things that can make their homes with us, and that got me thinking about what Jesus said in Luke 11:24-26.

When an unclean spirit comes out of a man, it passes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ On its return, it finds the house swept clean and put in order. Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and dwell there. And the final plight of that man is worse than the first.

A demon leaves someone, comes back, finds the place looking swell and figures it’ll invite some friends and really have a party in there.

Ok, so let me clarify what I mean about demons making their homes in us. I’m not talking about full on Exorcist kind of demon possession. I think Jesus was, and what he said also works with lesser demony-type things. I’m talking about some of our desires or emotions, ways of life which really harm us, and we just can’t quit. Get what I’m saying? I don’t want everyone leaving here saying, “The priest said I’ve got demons in me.”

When Jesus talked about demons making their homes with us, again, think about us choosing ways of life that harm us. Let’s say you wake up in the morning, you’re in a foul mood for whatever reason, and you choose just to stay in a foul mood, if you even think about it at all. So, now you’re grouchy, and you’re angry, and you’re taking it out on everyone around you. Let’s call that grouchy anger a demon. You keep nursing it; you keep feeding it, and eventually it just becomes part of who you are. Sure, you’re occasionally happy sometimes, but basically, you’re just a pissed off, bitter, angry person. I’d call that something like a demon that has taken up residence. 

At some point, you decide to kick the demon out. “I’m tired of being grouchy and angry all the time,” you say. So you decide to put on a cheery disposition. You smile, you have some optimistic thoughts, and for a couple of days, you’re feeling better. Then one bad thing happens, and now not only are you pissed off and grouchy because of the bad thing that happened, but you’re also pissed off and grouchy because being cheerful didn’t work. In fact, it made everything worse because you’re just as pissed off and grouchy as you were before, but you were also hoodwinked by all that damn smiling optimism. 

That sounds like what Jesus was talking about, with the demon leaving, then coming back with a bunch of his buddies to make things even worse than before. We hear people talking about fighting our inner demons. That’s what I mean, and boy howdy, we can have a lot of those. I’ve mentioned anger, grouchiness, violence. What about addiction to drugs, alcohol, sex? What about thinking the world is against you, what my dad called, “having a chip on your shoulder”? God, I hated it when he said that. He was right. I did have a chip on my shoulder, and it was based in fear and insecurity. Again, we’ve all got our inner demons that we struggle with.

Jesus said in our Gospel lesson today, “Those who love me will keep my word, and I will come and make my home with them.” “Those who love me will keep my word, and I will come and make my home with them.” That sounds a whole lot better than angry, lusty, fearful, spiteful demons making their home in me. “Keep my word,” Jesus said, “and I will come and make my home with [you].”

Here's where the altar call happens, right? Come up here, proclaim that you want to keep Jesus’ word, and all will be well from here on out, right? Nah, see keeping Jesus’ word is not a one-time deal. Jesus said he’d make his home with us. That’s an everyday kinda deal. We’re following in Jesus’ ways as best we can, not perfectly, but we’re trying, and Jesus is with us, staying in our house, in our selves. Then we see something we want to do that we know Jesus is going to say “no” to, so we ask Jesus if he’d like to just take a walk for a little while, stretch his legs, and when he gets around the block, we lock him out. 

Now, when we do that, and we all do that, Jesus ain’t gonna force his way back in. The demons will. They don’t knock. They just force their way in and say, “Piss off, this is my house now” Jesus doesn’t do that. Jesus knocks and says, “What’s going on? You wanna let me back in.” 

Well, we’ve kicked Jesus out, we’ve followed ways that we know are harmful for us, so at this point, the house is already a wreck. Even without any major terrible demons coming in, it’s pretty messy. We’re not sure we wanna let Jesus in. We’re kind of ashamed. At the same time, things have been kinda fun. We’re not sure we wanna give things back over to Jesus just yet. Tell you what, Jesus, let me have my way for a while, and you come one back whenever I want you here. Thanks so much.

I’m not saying Jesus won’t come back when we treat him like that. Rumor has it he will, but when we kick him out and lock him out, we do tend to let in a lot of demons. We do tend to hurt ourselves. We do tend to hurt others.  

So, the suggestion Jesus has instead is that we keep his word, we keep his ways, we seek his guidance and follow his teachings, and he will come and make his home with us. In God’s kingdom, Jesus has many dwelling places, and we are those dwelling places. 

Jesus is resurrection and life, and Jesus offers to dwell within us. Jesus is love and peace, and Jesus offers to dwell within us. Jesus is way, and truth, and life, and Jesus offers to dwell within us.

Way, truth, life, love, peace, resurrection: those all sound pretty good, a far cry from the various demons we often invite in. So, rather than give an altar call and ask people to come here and commit to keeping Jesus’ word and ways, let me offer this. Make the altar call every morning. Every day we decide to trust Jesus enough to follow his ways. Every day we chose Jesus’ way, truth, and life. Every day we choose Jesus’ love, peace, and resurrection. 

Every day we do well; every day we mess up; and every day we return again to that altar call and invite Jesus in, committing to keep his word as best we are able. Some days we’ll be more able than others, and Jesus will reward our efforts by making his home with us. 

Some days, we may kick Jesus out, and even then, Jesus will be outside, ready to come back in when we’re ready to unlock the doors and welcome him back in. So, “Do not let your hearts be troubled,” Jesus says, “and do not let them be afraid.” “Peace I leave with you; my peace own I give to you.” For, “those who love me,” Jesus says, “will keep my word, and I will come and make my home with them.”

The questioners, the loners, the kids with behavior problems...

Brad Sullivan

2 Christmas, Year B

December 31, 2017

Emmanuel, Houston

John 1:1-18

The questioners, the loners, the kids with behavior problems...

Over the weekend, a priest friend of mine and I talking and joking together about challenges of church life, and she said, “Yeah, church would be great if it wasn’t for all the people.”  It’s a common joke about the imperfections of the Church which is the ecclesia (or gathering) of Jesus’ friends.  Jesus’ ecclesia of friends began as a rather rag tag group of also-rans, the island of misfit toys type folks who needed and wanted the love and belonging which Jesus was offering.  Being a rag tag group of folks, the church was always an imperfect bunch, and that proud tradition has continued on to this day.

As the church, the ecclesia, the gathering of Jesus’ friends we’re a group of people who follow in Jesus’ ways, except when we don’t.  We love well, giving compassion to those who really need it, to those whose lives have been shattered and need someone to sit with them among the broken pieces of their life and slowly begin sweeping them up and putting the pieces back together.  That is, except for when we don’t love well for a variety of reasons, when our own lives just aren’t up to it, or when our own brokenness prevents us from seeing the broken person in front of us as a person, and we instead just see a broken thing.

As Jesus’ ecclesia, his gathering of friends, we love God and love people above all else.  That’s our way of being.  Some friends of mine recently told me that in their efforts to love God and people above all else, they’ve been going through their house get rid of anything that they would be really upset about if it was broken by a child…or an adult.  They want their home to be a place of love, where adults and children know they are loved, and that they are loved more than the stuff in their house.  That’s a great model for the church, where we love God and love people above all else, except of course when, in our efforts to love God, we end up loving things, and we place that love of things in front of loving people.  It happens.  The church is imperfect because it is irrevocably peopled with people.

In John’s Gospel this morning, we heard that the Word of God, which is God, is also the life and light of all, and that the Word of God became human, as Jesus, and lived among us as one of us.  That was really his first mistake, wasn’t it?  The Word of God already had a perfect ecclesia going, a perfect gathering of beloved friends with the Father and the Holy Spirit.  This perfect ecclesia remained perfect until the Word became flesh and lived among us.  Then, Jesus joined us to the ecclesia of God, along with all of our imperfections.  That’s kind of the beauty of it.  If God had wanted a perfect ecclesia, then I suppose he wouldn’t have become human at all.  We wouldn’t celebrate Christmas, and there would be no baby Jesus, or adult Jesus, or even teenage angsty Jesus.  There would just be the perfect ecclesia of God, without humanity, but God didn’t want that perfect ecclesia, a perfect church.  God wanted the ecclesia of Jesus’ friends, the church, the gathering with humanity, along with all of our imperfections, even if that meant that we mucked things up a bit.  So, “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.”

In becoming human and living among us, God showed us his love for us, not his desire for us to be perfect.  I mean, I suppose it’d be nice, but God showed that he loves us, warts and all.  He then formed the church, the ecclesia or gathering of Jesus’ friends, so that we could further share his love for people, warts and all.  Jesus wanted not a perfect ecclesia, but an ecclesia that shared his heart for people and his willingness to sacrifice personal comfort and convenience (and quite a bit more than that) for the sake of people…especially the ones no one else seemed to care that much about. 

The questioners, the loners, the kids with behavior problems.  Seek them out, invite them in, and love them more than your stuff, Jesus has taught his church, and be willing to sacrifice your personal comfort and convenience for their sake. 

The people who don’t have life figured out and have spent their life mucking it up for themselves.  The people who have life figured out and learned from a young age that life is harsh and cruel.  The people who have been rejected by their peers, rejected by society, rejected by their church or family.  Seek them out, invite them in, and love them more than your stuff, Jesus has taught his church, and be willing to sacrifice your personal comfort and convenience for their sake.

The people who aren’t like us, who make us uncomfortable, whose very existence disrupts our world, shattering the illusions we created to make our world seem safe.  The people whose need is greater than we can provide, whose loneliness and despair are deeper than we can see, and whose desire for connection and companionship is greater and more beautiful than even they are aware.  Seek them out, invite them in, and love them more than your stuff, Jesus has taught his church, and be willing to sacrifice your personal comfort and convenience for their sake.

We’re not going to fix every problem or make any lives perfect.  The lives of all people still have that one flaw in them, that all lives involve people and are therefore irrevocably messed up, messed up just like the church, the ecclesia, gathering of Jesus’ friends, and Jesus didn’t form his ecclesia of friends in order to make a perfect institution.  Jesus formed his church, his gathering of friends, in order to share with us his light, because he simply wanted us to be a part of the life of communion shared between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and so with all our imperfections, we reach out with that same light to others, and we sit with them in their imperfections, not to make them perfect, not necessarily to fix them, but simply to dwell with them, to shine some light into the darkness of their lives, and to join in communion with them, becoming friends, and joining together in the Church, ecclesia, the gathering, of Jesus’ friends. 

Only Love Can Honor Her

In response to the anger, hatred, violence, and murder at a White Supremacist rally in Charlottesville, VA, in which Heather Heyer became a martyr for peace and love, there has been an enormous amount of anger and hatred.  Mr. Trump was criticized for saying there was blame on many sides.  Then he condemned Nazis, White Supremacists, and the KKK.  Later, he again stated that there was violence on both sides of the confrontation at the rally. 

The Nazis, White Supremacists, and KKK were responsible for the violence, anger, and hatred.  I do not believe there should be a platform for their rhetoric.  I do not believe they should be given a pulpit, park, or public place of any kind to spew their venom.  With the freedoms of speech granted in this country, however, they will be granted such platforms.  It is going to happen.  Period.  I further believe, therefore, that when they meet to spew their venom, they should not be met with violence. 

I will write that again.  These groups should not be met with violence. 

Counter-protestors gathered in Charlottesville to let these groups know that they were not welcome, that their hatred will not stand.  I am glad they did.  If such a demonstration happens near me, I will join the counter-protestors, in peaceful, prayerful protest.

From what I have read, most of the counter protestors were peaceful.  From what I have also read, some of the counter-protestors were not peaceful, and some initiated physical violence.  Violence tends to beget more violence.  Anyone who physically assaults another should expect that the violence begun will continue and grow.

In fact, violence merely increases hate.

So it goes.

Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness:   only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate:  only love can do that.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

By responding to the white supremacists with violence, people only cemented the beliefs of the white supremacists.  President Trump said there was blame for the violence on all sides.  From all I have read, and as much as I feel rather ill saying/writing it, Mr. Trump was right.  There were reportedly counter-protestors who initiated violence.  There is blame for violence on both sides. 

Saying so makes me feel rather ill.  I want to blame only the white supremacists, and doing so certainly makes me feel better for any and all ways that I have contributed to violence, anger, and hatred in my own life.  Doing so is also rather disingenuous.  I do not believe physically attacking the other is the right thing to do, no matter how much the other pisses me off. 

As a disciple of Jesus, I keep looking to his teachings and his way.  His way says to “pray for your enemies,” “bless those who curse you,” and even “love your enemies.”  Jesus’ way did not say, “punch a Nazi.”  I’d like to do so.  Part of me would like to find a Nazi and beat him near to death, but that would do no good.  I would not be innocent of violence simply because the person was a Nazi.  I would rather be guilty of violence and guilty of spreading hate…my own hate.  Hatred would remain, and even be multiplied by such an act.  Showing such a person love, however, especially from the very people he hates, just might change his heart.  Love could help drive out the hate.

By saying there is blame for the violence on both sides, Mr. Trump is correct.  I do not support Mr. Trump.  I believe he bears much of the responsibility for the violence in Charlottesville and elsewhere because of his violent rhetoric.  Through his words, he played on the very worst of our humanity in order to get himself elected President.  He used our hatred and our fears (which is not to say that everyone who voted for him did so out of hatred or fear).  He fanned the flames of racism and stoked the fires of anger, and then said we should all come together.  He can’t have it both ways.  I do not trust, believe in, or support him.  I will not, however, ignore a true statement when it is made simply because I dislike the speaker. 

There was, unfortunately violence begun on both sides, even if it was only done by a small minority of the counter-protestors.  If all of the counter-protestors had been peaceful, then the White Supremacists, the Nazis, and the KKK would not have a leg to stand on.  Unfortunately, those on the side of the counter-protestors who led with violence gave credence to the “blame on both sides” argument .  I wish the argument couldn’t be made that there was blame on both sides, but because of

the violence of a few, that argument can be made. 

If we are truly going to come together as a people of peace, then we all have to own our own violence.  That is something else that Jesus taught, that if we are going to call out the sins of another, we have to acknowledge and own our sins first.  Truth be told, none of us is innocent.  None of us can claim not to be a part of the violence all around us.  That is why I believe Jesus came to redeem all people, not just "those people over there."

What am I to do then with my anger, hatred, and desire for violence against White Supremacists, Nazis, and the KKK?  I am to offer in prayer that anger, hatred, and desire for violence to Jesus.  I am literally to pray that Jesus will enact the violence against them which I would like to enact.  Yes.  You read that right.

The reason for asking Jesus to harm those whom I would like to harm, however, is not because I believe he will do so, but rather precisely because I believe he will not do so.  Jesus, God, is the only place my anger, hatred, and desire for violence can be safely left.  Jesus is the only person who can deal with my darkness appropriately, the only person I can truly trust with my anger, hatred, and desire for violence. 

I do not believe God is going to enact terrible violence on someone simply because I’m pissed off and want him to.  Rather, God will take my anger, hatred, and desire for violence and transform my heart so that I will instead have love, compassion, and empathy.  Then, my heart will be in the right place to be able to oppose the anger, hatred, and violence of others.

This usually takes time, and it is not an easy path.  It is, however, the way of Jesus who said, “I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life.” 

When I heard about the death and martyrdom of Heather Heyer, I wanted to respond with violence.  I wanted to unleash the full torrent of my anger, hatred, and fear on anyone who could be considered guilty of the anger and hatred which led to her death.  Doing so, however, is not the way of Jesus.  As much as I want to give in to my anger, hatred, and fear, I cannot do so and also follow the way of Jesus.  When I do give in to such darkness, I have to do all in my power to make amends…which is also the way of Jesus. 

Regarding then our President and his assertion that there is blame for violence on both sides.  I don’t want to admit that he is right, because I find him reprehensible.  I don’t want to admit that he is right, but I must.  There is blame on both sides.  There was anger, hatred, and violence by at least some on both sides. 

If we are going to heal and move ahead towards peace, then we must admit to these truths.  Violence and fear towards those whom we fear brings greater violence, not peace.  Violence and anger towards those who anger us brings greater violence, not peace.  Violence and hatred toward those whom we hate brings greater violence, not peace.  We cannot drive out violence and hatred with violence and hatred.  We cannot ignore or excuse some violence and hatred and expect peace to reign.  If we truly want peace, we must denounce all violence and hatred. 

If we truly want peace, we must according to my belief in Jesus, place our anger, hatred, and desire for violence at Jesus’ feet and ask him to transform it into love, compassion, and empathy.  Only then will our hearts be ready to confront the anger, hatred, and violence of others.  Only then will we be ready to risk injury and even death for the cause of love and peace. 

Heather Heyer died for the cause of love and peace.  We cannot honor her with anger and hatred.  We cannot honor her with violence.  Only love can honor her.

Fumbling In the Dark

Brad Sullivan

2 Epiphany, Year A

January 14, 2017

Emmanuel, Houston

John 1:29-42

Fumbling In the Dark

Repentance leads to seeing Jesus.  That is what I heard in our Gospel story this morning, as John was declaring Jesus to be the Lamb of God, the one who would take away the sins of the world.  John said that he came baptizing so that Jesus would be revealed to Israel.  Now John came with a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, and his doing so led to Jesus being revealed as God’s son after he was baptized by John.  This baptism of repentance led to a revelation of Jesus, seeing him as more than a carpenter’s son, but as the Son of God who has saved the world from their sins.  For us, repentance leads to seeing Jesus as well and being guided by the light of Jesus, without which, without Jesus, we’re fumbling in the dark.

We may not feel like we’re fumbling in the dark.  We’re so often guided, after all, our own lights, one of which being the light of some truth that we hold.  Guided by our own lamps of truth, it’s little wonder we end up fumbling in the dark, especially considering how vitriolic our lamps of truth have become as of late.  We know that we are right, or even if not completely sure of our own correctness, we know with absolute certainty that the other side is wrong.  That vitriol, that certainty in our own truth leaves us fumbling in the dark..

Jesus is the light of the world, the light of God, we’re told in the first chapter of John, and we’re told that Jesus came with grace and truth.  Jesus came with truth, and we tend to hold onto that truth as best we understand it, especially when we’re fumbling in the dark.  Even more than the light of Jesus’ truth, however, we need the  light of Jesus’ grace. 

Jesus’ grace didn’t demand total understanding of truth from people.  Jesus spent time with a lot of people who certainly didn’t seem to have truth wrapped up particularly well.  Jesus was called a friend of sinners, and as such he didn’t lambast or lecture them.  He had dinner with them.  When he saw people fumbling in the dark, he gave them grace and love to be their light along with his truth.

Jesus came with grace to see us as fumbling in the dark as well, doing our best as we walk along the well worn paths of our lives, when we’re often not even guided by light anymore, but simply by repetition, following in the same old paths, the same old ways that we can follow with our eyes closed, ways that don’t lead anywhere good, but ways which we know so well that they just feel right.  Jesus came with grace enough to give us light so that when we repent, when we turn from those well worn paths toward a new path, we have light to follow in the way of Jesus.  

Back in high school, I believed I was following in the way of Jesus.  I’d grown up a Christian my whole life, and I knew nothing but the truth.  I knew about the Gospel and about Jesus.  He was the truth, and that was that.  So, at times back in high school, I ended up following a particular path, a path called:  moral superiority and mocking of liberals and various morally unacceptable people in the guise of righteously upholding Jesus and Christian values.  It felt like truth.  It was really just bullying.

My views on various things changed over the years.  Various truths changed, but I still believed in Jesus.  In my late teens and early twenties, I began to repent of the ways I had been walking, so certain of my truth that I could denigrate others for not holding the same truth. 

Then, in seminary, I found myself agreeing with some of the more liberal views on several issues, especially the hot button issues of the time.  I was sickened, however, at how the opposing views, views which I had previously held, were not really welcome on campus.  The goal of Virginia Theological Seminary was for all views to be welcome, but in practice, VTS was following the same path I had followed back in high school, though at VTS it was called:  intellectual superiority and mocking of conservatives and various morally unacceptable beliefs in the guise of love and respect for all people.  It felt like truth to those on that path.  It was really just bullying.

Those of us who have been on that path, the path of (assumed) truth without grace, believe our own beliefs to be right and afford little or no grace to those with opposing views. When I have been on that path, I was blinded.  I knew where I wanted to go.  I knew the end, what was right, where we should all (I assumed) go as a society, but getting there, I was fumbling in the dark. 

Repenting of that certainty, that truth without grace, I found myself less certain about where I was going, but more confident in how I was getting there, guided by the light of Jesus. 

Over the last week, I realized that I again needed to repent from walking that same, well worn path of self-righteous, supposed truth.  My supposed truth without grace was in the belief that the wrong candidate had won the presidential election.  I wasn’t really excited about Hilary, but I was so turned off by Trump’s rhetoric and seeming character flaws.  I knew I was right and the other side was wrong, until I finally really listened to my cousin, a Trump supporter, and I realized how self-righteous I had been in my belief.  Supposed truth without grace and bullying had become my path again, and I was wrong. I needed to repent of that path and let the light of Jesus be revealed to me once again. 

My less than stellar views of our president elect didn’t change, but I can hold those views more lightly now.  I may very well be wrong.  He may be exactly what this country needs.  More importantly, having repented of the path of supposed truth without grace, I can follow Jesus again when he says to his disciples, “come and see”, rather than be deaf to his invitation or too caught up in thinking myself right even to care.  In my supposed truth without grace, I was blind to Jesus all around me.  I was blind to Jesus in people all around me.  I was wrong.  I needed to repent of that path.  I’m guessing I’m the only one.

Here’s what I think now regarding the election, and I offer these thoughts for all of those still struggling with the decisions or the reactions of those on the other side.  People made the best choices they could with the information they had and the information which they were able to believe.  Folks on both sides of this thing have asked, “how could you possibly have voted for [this candidate], knowing [this terrible thing] about them.”  How could you be so stupid or immoral as to vote for whichever candidate?  That’s about the sentiment I’ve heard quite often.  Now, not wanting the other candidate to win is pretty normal, but good gracious, it seems that an awful lot of people on both sides viewed the other candidate as the latest incarnation of Satan. Some even thought the comparison gave Satan a bad name.

How could either side vote for a candidate who seemed so horribly flawed to the other side?  Well, it’s really kind of simple.  Our brains will only allow us so much cognitive dissonance before they begin jettisoning some bad information (or assuming it to be false) so that they can handle and align what we do with what we believe.

Adding to differences of policy off, folks were fearfully and (strongly) against Trump because of what he’d said and done/reportedly done.  They saw a particular character emerge from the information given, a character which could not be supported.  Folks who were against Hillary, saw a similarly deficient character emerge based on what Hillary had said and done/reportedly done, a character which could not be supported. 

Both groups did the best they could with the information they had, and many within both groups had to ignore/gloss over, or explain away some of the more troubling aspects of each candidates’ character.  Regarding the truth of either candidate and the soundness of a vote for either, we’re all fumbling in the darkness, doing our best with very limited knowledge of truth.  We have incomplete truth.  We can’t have anything but incomplete truth. 

Grace, on the other hand, well that we have in abundance, and grace is something we can give in abundance.  Many want us to come together as people, as the body of Christ, and we need to.  We need to give each other grace with our competing, incomplete truths, grace enough to say, “I truly believe you were doing the best you could.” 

Otherwise both sides of any issue continue to walk on well worn paths that feel like truth, but which are really just bullying.  When we’re on those paths, no matter how certain we are, we’re blind, our paths lighted only by the darkness of certainty and truth without grace which end up leaving us fumbling in the darkness of bullying. 

Repenting of that path, we can see Jesus again.  Turning toward Jesus, with his light to guide us, we don’t always know exactly where we are going, or where we’ll end up, but we do know the way.  Jesus is the way.   With the grace of Jesus and restored relationships to guide us, we travel together toward an uncertain future, secure not in the destination, secure not in the end, but secure in each other, and secure in the grace of Jesus to guide us.

The Great Lie of Life

Brad Sullivan

3 Advent, Year A

December 11, 2016

Emmanuel, Houston

James 5:7-10

Matthew 11:2-11

The Great Lie of Life

We hear in our story from the Gospel according to Matthew today a story about John the Baptist, sitting in prison and wondering if all he had done had been worth it.  Was God’s kingdom truly coming?  Was salvation actually at hand?  Or, had he thrown his life away, been miserable out in the wilderness, eaten locusts for God’s sake (literally for God’s sake), and ended up in prison, soon to be killed, all for a lie, a misguided zealot’s farce?  Was Jesus truly the messiah, the anointed one?  So he asked, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

Jesus could never give a simple “yes” or “no”, could he?  When John’s disciples asked the very direct question, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another,” Jesus answered, “The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.” 

I can hear in Jesus’ response, the tacit, “Of course I am, John.  Doesn’t that sound like salvation?  Doesn’t that sound like the kingdom of God?”  But then I can imagine John thinking, “Thanks, Jesus, that sounds great for those people, the lepers, the deaf, the dead, the poor, but I’m sitting here in prison.  Have I thrown my life away for nothing or not?”

To that second, unasked question, Jesus preemptively says, “blessed are those who take no offense at me.”  “Take no offence at me, John, even though I am not all that you thought I would be.  Fear not, even though I have allowed you to be imprisoned.  Fear not, even though I have not taken command of Israel and destroyed Rome.  Fear not, John, because the Kingdom of God, that political, social, and religious revolution for which you entered the desert, for which you have been imprisoned, that revolution will not come at the point of a sword, nor will the turning of the world upside down come with the violent upheaval of mighty forces and fields drenched in blood.

“The turning of the world upside down, the revolution, the movement for which you have given your life, John, will come with each life which repents of anger, destruction, and isolation, and which turns instead towards love. 

“Remember all those people who came to be baptized, John, those who were so thirsty for the waters of repentance, that they entered the Jordan River with you, those muddy waters, filthy, dirty as sin.  Those people entered those waters not so that I could take up the sword against the occupying nation of Rome.  Those people entered the waters not so that we could shed blood and turn the waters of the Jordan from brown to red. 

“Those people entered the waters of the Jordan because they wanted to draw near to God and they didn’t want their past or future sins and wrongdoings to prevent them from drawing near to God ever again.  They entered the waters of the Jordan to be free.  They wanted to be free from the shackles which the religious elite had placed on them, telling them that they were never good enough to approach God.  They wanted to be free from the same old ways of life which they thought would bring healing and wholeness, free the same old ways of life which they thought would soothe the suffering of their souls and fill the void, but which only left more brokenness and the void in their souls even greater.  Those people entered the desert with you so that they could wash, be made new, and then leave the desert for the promised land of life in God’s kingdom.

“God’s kingdom is not brought about through the continual shedding of blood, the killing and exclusion of those we believe to be unworthy of God, and the only way I could free you, John, would be to let the bloodletting begin again, so no, John, I am not going to free you.  ‘Am I the one who is to come or should you wait for another?’  Here’s what’s happening, John. ‘The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.’  Remember, it was for such as those that you baptized, John.  So take no offense at me, for the Kingdom of God is indeed at hand. 

“At the same time, yes John, you are going to die in prison.  In fact, you’re going to be beheaded at the hands of a faithless, immoral, and impulsive ruler, simply because he was turned on by a young woman’s dancing.  The kingdom of God is at hand, and you are going to die senselessly for your efforts in bringing it about. 

That’s probably not what John wanted to hear.

For us, 21st century disciples of Jesus, those of us who are a part of the Jesus movement which John helped start almost 2000 years ago, we too get to be a part of the Kingdom of God.  We too get to help bring about the Kingdom of God and live into the Kingdom of God, continually turning toward love, continually turning toward Jesus, and offering that love to others, offering Jesus to others…everyone we see, including the poor, the blind, the lame, the marginalized, the overworked, overstressed, those trying like hell to live life the right way, and certain that most of the time they are failing.  We get to offer love, grace, forgiveness, mercy.  We get to offer Jesus.

At the same time, like John, we will at times still find ourselves in prison, wondering when Jesus is going to come, and the only answer we will receive is, “I’m not coming.”  Like everyone in the world, we who are part of the Jesus movement have sicknesses which are not healed, loved ones who die too soon, relationships which are broken.  Like everyone else in the world, we suffer from sorrows, addictions, times of being overwhelmed and feeling trapped, times in which we feel imprisoned by life.

Contra some clap-trap out there that various preachers peddle as gospel, believing in Jesus and following in the Jesus movement does not earn us a get out of suffering free card.  We all know this.  We still struggle with life:  bad jobs, no jobs, difficult or failed marriages, disease, sickness, senseless death, dashed hopes.  Like with John, this is probably not what we wanted to hear this Sunday, but we’re fooling ourselves if we try to pretend anything else. 

Like John sitting in prison, following Jesus, giving our lives to his teachings and his service, trusting him and following in his movement…all of that affords us no special protection.  We suffer and we die just like everyone else. 

The great lie of life, the great lie of medicine, the great lie of wealth, and even the great lie of some modern pseudo-Christianity is that we can avoid suffering and death.

Avoiding suffering and death is not the Gospel.  The Gospel is that our suffering and death is not punishment from a capricious, child-like God with a nasty temper and a mean streak a mile long. Suffering and death is simply a part of life, and the Gospel accepts that truth.  The Gospel then tells us another truth:  we are not alone in suffering.  We are with a God who likes humanity so much that, even with our human frailty, he thought it would be a really good idea to become one of us.  God loves us so much that he actually wanted to be human.  So the Gospel truth is we are not alone even in death, and death does not have the final word.  Life continues through suffering.  Life continues after death. 

Accepting that fact, accepting that we are all dust, and to dust we shall return, we can then let go of the countless ways we try to avoid suffering and death.  We can let go of that fruitless struggle and then grasp with both hands the life that truly is life.  Letting go of fear, we can truly live and see all of the joy and beauty in this world, even in the midst of suffering and death.

It’s a risky road, the Jesus movement, the revolution for which John prepared the way.  Love always is a risk.  But, the life of the Jesus movement, the life in which the downtrodden and unacceptable are loved and included, that life is worth the risk.  The life of the Jesus movement, the life in which God is with us in our sorrow and death, the life in which we are never alone, and we remain with each other even in our sorrow and death, that life is worth every risk, even the risk of feeling disappointed as we sit in whatever prison we find ourselves hearing Jesus tell us that he isn’t coming this time.

If we’re truly honest with selves, all of life is a risk.  Waking up in the morning is a risk.  In the Jesus movement, however, we risk with each other.  We risk for each other.  We risk with God for the sake of all of those who come to the dirty as sin waters of the Jordan seeking freedom, seeking acceptance, seeking Jesus.  Amen.