Come Unto to Me, and Be Prisoners of Hope.

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets Episcopal Church
August 9, 2023
Proper 9, Year A
Zechariah 9:9-12
Psalm 145:8-15
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 

Come Unto to Me, and Be Prisoners of Hope.

Both John the Baptist and Jesus had harsh critics who blasted them for their ways of life. Their critics blasted them for the ways of their religion, and their critics blasted them for the way they spoke to the powerful pointing out ways they were oppressing others and being hypocrites. Both John and Jesus were executed by the powerful for all of the above reasons. Of John, his critics said, “He has a demon,” because of his ascetic lifestyle, his religious devotion and self-discipline. Of Jesus, his critics said, “Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners,” because of how he spent time with the outcast sinners who were receptive to his message of forgiveness, his message of changing their ways and turning to God, his message of love and faith rather than certainty and fear.

John and Jesus’ critics were afraid of them and them and their messages. John and Jesus’ critics felt threatened by them and their messages, and so they condemned John and Jesus. Our Zechariah reading today called on the people of Israel to be prisoners of hope. John and Jesus’ critics were acting instead as prisoners of despair.

I don’t mean they were sad and forlorn. They were afraid. They were judging and condemning John and Jesus, feeling threatened by them. They were judging and condemning others, those they felt were sinning too much, those fellow Israelites whom they felt were on the outs with God. In their judgment and fear, they were unknowingly prisoners of despair. Did they have to condemn others to make themselves feel like they were ok in God’s eyes? Did they condemn others because they were afraid of what “those sinners” might do to their country or because they were afraid of what God might do to their country because of “those sinners”?

Being afraid of “those sinners,” John and Jesus’ critics worked against them, spoke against them, and eventually had them killed. Such is the way of prisoners of despair. Fight against. Let anger and fear rule. Seek the destruction or subjugation of “those sinners,” or “those others” so that they don’t ruin everything.

Now, on the one hand, John and Jesus’ critics had the wrong bad guys labeled as “those sinners.” On the other hand, even if we have the right bad buys labeled as “those sinners,” fighting against them, letting fear and anger rule, subjugating or especially destroying “those others” or “those sinners” isn’t really going to help us. Living as prisoners of despair doesn’t really help anyone.

I think we generally know this, although there are times when we don’t see any other way. How can we not be against people who subjugate others? How can we not be against people who rape and steal? How can we not be against people who work to make life difficult and miserable for others? Our brains and our emotions often tell us we have to be against “those others” who do terrible things, but our brains and our emotions are wrong. They are stuck in hurt and fear. Our brains and our emotions are all too often prisoners of despair.

Who will rescue us from these prisons? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! “Come to me,” 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.”

“Come to me,” Jesus says, and be prisoners of hope.

In our Zechariah reading today, the prophet says “Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope.” What is our stronghold? Our stronghold is God. “The Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble,” says Psalm 9:9. Likewise, Psalm 18:2 says, “The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, [the Lord is] my God, my rock in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, [the Lord is] my stronghold.”

When Jesus says, “Come to me all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest,” Jesus is promising to be our stronghold. Jesus is calling us not to be prisoners of despair, but to be prisoners of hope.

As prisoners of hope, we don’t just rage against “those others,” even if we have the right “others” in mind. As prisoners of hope, we follow the words of Psalm 37:8, “Refrain from anger, leave rage alone; * do not fret yourself; it leads only to evil.” As prisoners of hope, we don’t have to be against “those others” who do wrong. As prisoners of hope, we can, instead, live for those who are hurting, afraid, and oppressed.

If we continually rage against “those others,” we’ll just keep creating a mightier enemy. The more anyone fights someone, the more they tend to fight back. Living for someone, however, we end up building people up, guiding others, living into our truest selves: helpers and companions for one another. Such is life as prisoners of hope.

So, how do we go from being prisoners of despair to being prisoners of hope? We don’t, not by ourselves. We bring our hurt and our fear to Jesus. We bring our anger and our rage to Jesus. We come to him with those heavy burdens, hard to bear, we lay them upon him, and he grants us rest. Jesus heals us from being prisoners of despair and offers his yoke, his ways and teachings, that we may become prisoners of hope.

Then, Jesus offers us help, because as easy and light as his ways and teachings are, they are still often hard for us. Our brains and emotions, our bodies, still want us to be prisoners of despair. So Jesus offers us help in giving over our heavy burdens over and over again. Ask, Jesus says, and I will help you give those burdens to me. Then, freed of those burdens of hurt and fear, freed of those burdens of anger and rage, we can find rest for our souls and live as prisoners of hope.

We return over and over to Jesus, our stronghold, and we find that we don’t have to be against others. We can instead live for one another. We can be against those who would rape and steal; we can be full of anger and hate, or instead, we can live for those who might be victims. It’s harder to steal from and rape groups of people who are joined together, living for one another. It’s harder to hurt people who are prisoners of hope.

It still happens, of course, as it did to John the Baptist and Jesus. Those prisoners of despair who were against them eventually did hurt them, and yet they remained prisoners of hope. Their lives continue to bless us two-thousand years later. Such is the power of prisoners of hope. We return to Jesus our stronghold. We lay down our burdens, find rest for our souls, and get to live for others. We refrain from anger and leave rage alone. We stop living as prisoners of despair. We come to Jesus and live as prisoners of hope.

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.