Just Deserts

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
March 8, 2026
3 Lent
Exodus 17:1-7
Psalm 95
John 4:5-42

Don’t you just love it when your enemies get what’s coming to them? It’s like a delicious meal of deserved justice served with vengeance pie topped with self-righteous ice cream. It’s great. I love it when the bad guys fall and the really terrible people get exactly what they deserve. Enemies getting their comeuppance makes my little black heart sing. 

Then, the rest of me starts feeling pretty rotten, actually. That part of me that sings at other people’s misfortune ends up making the rest of me rather sick. Rejoicing at my enemies’ downfall may feed my cold little black heart, but it feeds my heart poison and grows in me like a cancer.  

It’s said that we are what we eat, and that is true of our spiritual food as well. Junk food and desert taste great, and when that’s all we eat, our bodies suffer. They stop working well. We end up with diabetes, and cancer, and heart disease, and even depression and anxiety can get worse from a bad diet. 

When we feed our hearts and souls with junk food, our hearts and souls become unhealthy as well. Vengeance, delighting when our enemies are hurt, that’s like really bad junk food for our souls. Think about what that diet really looks like: anger; rage; happiness that others are hurting, that’s cruelty. We can’t really be healthy and happy people when we feed ourselves on cruelty. We can’t be healthy and happy people when we delight in people’s suffering, even the suffering of our enemies.

See, the more we eat of people’s suffering, the more we want that food, which means we end up wanting people to suffer. So, even though our enemies might deserve suffering, when we delight in their suffering, we end up becoming cruel people.

Another problem with delighting in our enemies’ suffering is that we let ourselves focus on them, rather than ourselves. If they are bad and are getting what’s coming to them, I don’t need to look at ways I harm people. It’s still there, though, festering and eating us up from the inside. So, it grows in the dark, like mold, like fungus, rotting us from the inside. 

So, Jesus offers us different food. When he met the woman at the well, he told her he would give her water welling up within her to eternal life. Then Jesus talked to his disciples, telling them that the food he has to eat is doing the will of God. 

Well, what was the will of God that Jesus kept doing throughout his ministry? Healing people. Healing communities. Showing people a better way than the way of vengeance, a better way than the way of fighting and being against one another.

When the woman at the well asked Jesus which mountain was the correct one to worship God, he told her, neither was the correct mountain. The time is coming, Jesus said, when people will worship God neither on one mountain or the other, but they will worship God in spirit and in truth. 

So, what’s with the two mountains? They were the mountain on which the temple was built in Jerusalem and mount Gerizim in Samaria. The people of Israel and the people of Samaria were bitter enemies, so the argument over which mountain was the correct place to worship God was really an argument about which people God loved and which people God didn’t love.

So, when she asked which mountain was the best mountain, Jesus told her that folks would worship God neither on the mountain in Samaria, nor the mountain in Jerusalem. Instead, people would worship God in spirit and in truth. That sounds to me like all people get to worship God, regardless of which nation you belong to. That sounds to me like no more quarreling over whose mountain is correct, and if they stopped fighting over which mountain was correct, then they’d no longer be enemies. They’d no longer delight in one another’s suffering 

The food that Jesus offers is for each of us as individual people, and the food that Jesus offers goes far beyond individual healing. Jesus offers food that grows into healing among communities and even healing among nations. A community and a nation full of peaceful, loving, compassionate people is a community and a nation that will spread that same peace, love, and compassion to others.

Now, this is not about turning a nation into a Christian nation. Jesus wasn’t preaching to kings and rulers. Jesus wasn’t calling for a religious conversion of governments. Jesus wasn’t talking about forcing his way on others. Jesus was speaking to a woman at a well and to his disciples. Jesus spoke to the masses, to the people. Jesus met with religious leaders. Jesus wasn’t taking over a nation’s government to force change from the top town. Jesus healed and taught people the way of love to change lives and communities from the ground up. That’s things grow after all, from the ground up.

The food that Jesus offers feeds us in ways that lead away from bitterness, anger, and cruelty and into peace, love, and compassion. The food of taking delight in our enemies’ suffering, decays our bodies and souls, making us bitter, angry, and cruel. The food Jesus offers feeds our bodies and souls with eternal life, making us peaceful, loving, and compassionate. 

A community and a nation full of peaceful, loving, compassionate people is a community and a nation that will spread that same peace, love, and compassion to others. That peace, love, and compassion doesn’t spread through force feeding it, but by offering it and living it. When Jesus offered this food & water to the woman at the well, she wanted it. 

She ran to tell others to come and see a man who, “who told me everything I’ve ever done.” All Jesus actually said was that she’d had five husbands and the man she was with wasn’t her husband. Rather than dismissing this woman as sinful for having five husbands, let’s ask ourselves, “Why?” Only men could sue for divorce, so she hadn’t left her husbands; they had dismissed her. Why? 

Well, we don’t really know why five husbands had all sent her away, but we can guess that it left her feeling hurt and ashamed, probably bitter and resentful too. It could be a shameful thing to be dismissed by one husband, others wondering, “What’s wrong with her?” She’d been dismissed by five, so it’s a good bet she felt deep shame, like she was no good and unlovable. 

Then, Jesus talked to her, not like damaged goods but like a fully important, beloved human. “If he only knew,” she probably thought. Then, she found out that he did know, and he wasn’t shaming her or treating her like a lesser human. That was healing for her. That was the food and water Jesus offered, welling up in her to eternal life.   

The woman went from eating the bread of shame, bitterness, and resentment, to eating and drinking the love of God, the eternal life given by Jesus. Peace, love, and compassion was the food Jesus gave her, revealing the truth of her life, so she was no longer bound by it. There she was, fully exposed, and God was still calling her beloved. That’s being naked and unashamed, as we were created to be in Eden, in the beginning.

From there, the woman spread his message to others, bringing them to Jesus so he could feed them as well, the food Jesus offers growing from the ground up. That what Jesus calls us to do, to offer the same bread and water of peace, love, and compassion, to offer the same healing and eternal life we have be given to others. We’re reminded again and again to stick to this diet as well. 

As much as delighting in our enemies’ downfall is juicy and delicious (and it is delicious), it is also cancerous, harmful food which rots us from the inside out. Set aside that food. Offer it to God. “Here, Lord, accept my offering to you of my anger, fear, resentment, desires for vengeance. Accept my offering to you of the cruelty in my heart. Then, please feed me with your peace. Feed me with your love. Feed me with your compassion. Amen.”

We Belong Here, Together, in the Light

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
December 28, 2025
1 Christmas
Isaiah 61:10-62:3
Psalm 147:13-21
John 1:1-18

Happy Christmas, everyone. This is the fourth day of the twelve-day season of Christmas, the season of light shining in the darkness. For us in the northern hemisphere, this is the dark time of year. The days have been getting shorter and the nights getting longer, right up until the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, after which the days start getting longer and the nights start getting shorter. The Winter Solstice is, then, a celebration of the return of the light.

So, the date for Christmas was chosen to be on that longest night of the year so that we celebrate the light of Jesus coming into the world at the same time that we celebrate the return of the light into the world. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” Reverent Hannah, the head priest here at Trinity Episcopal Church preached on Christmas Eve, and she noted that we often think of light as good and darkness as bad, and she pointed out that there are times when we also need darkness.

The season of darkness, of winter, is also a season of rest for the earth. We need rest. We sleep in darkness. We have lights to guide us in the darkness, and without the darkness, we wouldn’t be able to notice the light. Darkness is a part of creation. It’s needed. Darkness can also come from hurt and trauma, and that darkness can definitely hurt us, yet even that darkness has a place. It’s our body’s way of protecting us. Anger, fear? They are natural responses to being hurt. Anger and fear can help lead us to safety. When we are overcome by anger and fear, however, then we become lost in the darkness. So, “the light [of Jesus] shines in the darkness, and the darkness [does] not overcome it.” 

Think about guilt as well. Guilt may feel like darkness, guilt over ways we’ve harmed others. More accurately, guilt is how we feel the darkness we’ve caused. It’s a good thing. Guilt helps us know we’ve done wrong and that darkness we feel helps nudge us back to the light. That is, unless, we get overcome by the darkness, and our guilt turns to shame.

When that happens, we become lost and alone in the darkness. Who has felt alone, ashamed of what you’ve done or ashamed of what someone has done to you? That shame is darkness overtaking us, no longer helping us heal or guiding us to the light. Shame keeps us alone, telling us no one will ever understand. No one will ever forgive us. No one will ever accept us if we let this secret shame be known. 

Shame tells us we are unloved and unlovable. Jesus tells us that shame is wrong. 

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. 

We are loved. We are lovable. Whatever we have done, and whatever has been done to us, we belong in the light. That’s why God became human, to help heal us and, when we are overcome by darkness, to guide us back to the light. 

The Word of God became flesh and lived among us, and his name, Jesus, comes from the Hebrew name Yehoshua, which means “God is salvation,” “God saves,” “God is deliverance.” To believe in Jesus’ name means to believe that God is the salvation we seek. God is the deliverance we need. God is the light which shines in our darkness, and God is the light which our darkness cannot overcome. Into our darkness, God’s light shines, saying, “Come, my beloved child.”

Every morning when we rise, God’s light shines in the darkness. See, sleep is like a tiny, daily darkness, which we call the shadow of death, the big darkness. Now, even that darkness is not a bad thing. Our bodies wear out, and death is a natural part of life. Death is the great rest at the end of life, and yet even the darkness of death does not overcome the light of life. 

Jesus showed us in his resurrection, that death does not have the final say. There is life, stronger even than death. That life is the light of God, and the darkness of death does not overcome it. Be at peace even with death, then, trusting that God’s light is not overcome by the darkness, and that life will return. Then, live with the peace that comes from that belief. “God is salvation.” 

God is salvation for all people and for all the mess and darkness of our lives.

When Jesus grew up, he was friends with sinners. He taught forgiveness. He healed people and proclaimed forgiveness. Jesus was the light of God shining for people who were lost and alone in the dark. Jesus is still the light of God shining for people who are lost and alone in the dark. 

So, Jesus’ church is a community for people who are lost and alone in the dark. We’re not the good folks proclaiming judgement on the world. We’re the messed up, broken folks who come to Jesus and the church and find that we’re not alone. When we come to Jesus and the community of the church, we find that don’t need to be alone and ashamed. We don’t need to be lost in the darkness. Jesus says, “I love you. I see you. Come to me, and join with the rest of this rag tag band of screwups. Join with this group of hurt, beaten, and damned people, and find that you’re not actually damned. Those thoughts are just the darkness overcoming you. Come, be loved, and be healed.” That’s the light shining in the darkness and the darkness not overcoming it.

How many have been a part of the church who had murdered someone in the past, who had raped someone in the past? How many have been drug dealers and gang members? How many have been part of the church who are ex-convicts or current convicts? How many have been part of the church who made fortunes at the expense of others and found their lives empty? How many have prostituted themselves, doing whatever they felt they needed to in order to survive? How many, of all of the above, did all of those things because they felt they needed to in order to survive, or because they were so hurt and beaten down, that they just didn’t care who they hurt anymore?

The church is full of people who have been overcome by darkness. The church is full of people who have then found healing together, as we recognize our own hurts and darkness in one another, and we also see our belovedness and the light of God in one another. The church is full of people who have found healing in the name of Jesus. “God is salvation.” The church is full of people who have found healing believing that God is light, life, and healing for all of us together.

So stay, and keep returning. Keep joining together recognizing one another as God’s beloved, because we are loved. We are lovable. Whatever we have done, and whatever has been done to us, we belong here, together, in the light. 

Glorious Train Wrecks and Glorious Symphonies

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church
September 26, 2021

Proper 121, B

Mark 7:24-37

Glorious Train Wrecks and Glorious Symphonies

Have you ever had a terrible empathy fail? You’re overcome with emotion, exhausted, and totally stressed out by all that is going on, and you feel completely not good enough for all that is going on. So, you talk to a friend about it. The friend responds with, “Oh, that’s ok, it was so much worse for me last year.” You end up feeling even worse, like you’re still not good enough, but now you’re also unimportant.

I’ve been in a workshop for the last couple days called, “Dare to Lead,” made by and based on the work of Brene Brown. She is a researcher and author of “Dare to Lead,” “The Daring Way,” and other books about shame, how destructive shame is for us, and how empathy is the antidote for shame. 

Different from guilt which says, “I messed up or did something bad,” shame says, “I am messed up, and I am bad.” Shame is the feeling of being totally unworthy of love and belonging. Alone. Scared. Not good enough. Not worth people’s time. One of the major  antidotes for shame is empathy. Empathy helps us feel connected to others. Empathy doesn’t dismiss our pain, our fears, or the things we’ve done. Empathy looks at us as we are, warts and all, and says says, “I’m here with you; I get it; you aren’t alone; and you are totally worthy of love and belonging.”

Sadly, a lot of Christian theology says the opposite. We’re sinners, totally unworthy, and destined for torment forever. That’s what we deserve…unless we believe in Jesus. Then, we’re still unworthy, but God loves us anyway. That’s a pretty abusive theology. Shame is at its root. You’re terrible, unworthy, you don’t belong; you’re no good; you should be punished. Shame, being unworthy of love and belonging. 

Then, according to these theologies, Jesus comes along and says, believe in me, and God won’t punish you forever…because God loves you. That’s what abusers do to their victims. Tear them down, make them feel worthless, and then say, “I love you, and I alone can make you well, not worthy of love…but I alone will love you even though you are totally unworthy.” 

That’s about control, not empathy or love. It’s bad theology which turns God into an abuser, rather than a loving God. 

See the truth of our nature is that we are made beautiful, wonderful, and totally worthy of love and belonging. We’re not born with some stain of original sin. That's bad theology. We’re born, and we are hurt over time. We fear. We act out. We hurt others our of our own hurt. God is of course not happy with all of the hurt and harm we do, but God does not see us a terrible and totally unworthy of love. God loves us and hates to see us hurting ourselves and hurting each other.

So, to help heal us, God became human, showing us empathy and love. God, Jesus, knows exactly what it’s like to be human. Life is hard; being human is hard. It’s beautiful, and messy, and painful; a glorious train-wreck, and a glorious symphony all at once. By joining with us in being human, God says, “I’m here with you; I get it; you aren’t alone; and you are totally worthy of love and belonging.”

So then, believing that theology, that we are worthy of love and belonging, believing that God is not just trying to control us with fear and shame, what is Jesus saying with this dismemberment/mutilation lesson?

Well, obviously, Jesus is not literally telling us to cut off our hands or else he’ll punish us forever. I know it sounds that way. “It is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands…and to be thrown into hell.” “If you mess up too much, I’m going to hurt you…forever.” That’s not love. That’s shame, control, fear and abuse. Remember, Jesus loves us and we are worthy of God’s love and belonging. This dismemberment/mutilation lesson, then, cannot be saying, cut off your hand or I’ll punish you forever. The lesson cannot be about shaming us and forcing control over us with coercion. 

Hear the lesson instead in the light of empathy and love, and you’ll see that this lesson is about taking seriously the harm we can cause, showing us just how bad that harm can be, and so encouraging us to take big steps to choose instead a way of healing and restoration. 

“Golly, cutting off my hand sounds terrible, and Jesus is saying that the harm I can cause to myself and others with my hand can be even worse than that. I can harm other people in ways that are worse than removing my hand; I can in fact harm people in ways that become like Hell on Earth. I can’t bring about Hell on Earth. I really don’t want to do that; I don’t want to cause harm like that. I mean, I’m often hurt and angry, but gee whiz, I don’t want to bring about Hell on Earth. Maybe I oughta seek another way?”

See, this cast into hell part of Jesus’ lesson is not really unknown to us. Planes flown into buildings. Being so angry and feeling so alone that it seems like me against the world. Choosing numbing behaviors so much that people never address the problems in their lives, but just keep growing more isolated and resentful. Politicians wanting to win so badly and being so assured of their righteousness that they denigrate the other side as being evil, bringing about such division and strife that we can’t even countenance the thought that there may be some good coming from the other side, that freedom and public health become enemies of each other.

We get being cast into hell. We do it to ourselves all the time. Not casting ourselves into Hell on Earth can take drastic change, drastic giving up of something we hold dear and can’t imagine being without. Giving up the need to be right in a religious belief and for others to share in that belief. Letting go of resentments and accepting one’s own faults so that it is no longer me agains the world. Letting go of numbing so that we actually have to work together on life’s challenges. Giving up dehumanizing anger and entrenched wrangling over ideological differences so that we don’t make things even worse than our fears of what might happen if the other side won.

Giving up these things can feel like cutting off one’s own hand, or foot, or eye. Jesus is then hold up that pain next to the pain of the hells that we often make and cast each other into. Jesus is showing empathy and love, saying, “I know the healing work is hard, and I know, as we all know, how much harder life is without that healing work. Even though it can feel like cutting off your own hand, doing that healing work is so much better than living through Hell on Earth.”

God loves us, not in spite of us being unworthy of God’s love. God loves us as God’s children, and we are totally worthy of God’s love and belonging. God also teaches us hard lessons because God knows life can be even harder without them. “I’m here with you; I get it,” God says. “You aren’t alone; and you are totally worthy of love and belonging.”