The Oil of Courage, Faith, Hope, and Love

 The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Emmanuel Episcopal Church

November 8, 2020

Proper 27, A

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

Matthew 25:1-13

The Oil of Courage, Faith, Hope, and Love

Keep oil in your lamps; be awake and ready for God’s kingdom coming among us at any time, in any situation.  There’s the basic lesson Jesus was teaching in his parable of the bridesmaids waiting upon the bridegroom, some of whom had extra oil for their lamps and some of whom did not, so that those who didn’t weren’t actually able to make it to the wedding feast.  

I have at times seen this as a fearful parable.  What if my oil runs out?  Oh no!  That fear certainly plays well in the world today where we seem to have messages of, never don’t be afraid, and always be on the look out for some new thing to fear.  Well, fear not.  Jesus is not adding one more thing to our list of things to fear.   Rather, Jesus is giving a loving reminder for us to remain prepared.  Keep your lamps full of oil, or as a modern Houstony example, keep your car gassed up during hurricane season.  Keep a mask at hand and on your face when you are outside of your home during this time of COVID-19.  Remain ready to accept, receive, and walk in God’s kingdom at whatever moment it may show itself or show itself again in your life.  Keep close at hand oil for your lamps, the oil of courage, faith, hope, and love.  

See, far from fear, attitudes of never don’t be afraid are the exact opposite of Jesus’ message in his parable.  If we’re always living in fear, then we are likely also always living in anger, and if we’re always living in fear and anger, then we’re not living in courage, faith, hope, and love.  Our oil lamps will have run dry.

Now, we get afraid and angry in our lives, of course we do.  We often have good reasons to be afraid and angry, but living in courage, faith, hope, and love we choose not to be overcome by that fear or anger.  We choose not to be overcome by fear or anger, because when we are overcome by fear and anger, we let the oil in our lamps run out, and we miss so many beautiful times when the bridegroom walks among us.  When we are overcome by fear and anger, the oil in our lamps runs out, and we miss when God’s kingdom happens in our lives.

Some folks have been overcome with fear and anger because Joe Biden was elected president last week, and prior to that, some folks were overcome with fear and anger when Donald Trump was elected president four years ago.  In both cases, with both our president-elect and our current president, some of our fear and anger is a natural reaction to things not going the way we want them to go.  For some, however, our fear and anger get us so worked up that our oil runs dry and we become afraid that it’s all coming to an end.  By the way, this last part about the president is quoted almost exactly from the sermon I preached four years ago:  copied, pasted, and edited.  

When we have so much fear and anger, that we lose our courage, faith, hope, and love and are instead overcome by our fear and anger, then we have let the oil in our lamps run out.  While the president and vice president do give many of us courage and hope, the source of our courage, faith, hope, and love need not be the person sitting in The White House, because the source of our courage, faith, hope, and love is a loving God in whom we have our hope, and who gives us courage and faith.  When we lose sight of God as that source that source be eclipsed by the person in The White House (or any other person) we let our oil run low and our lamps go out.  

We need our lamps lit because there is darkness in the world, and there are dark times in our lives.  Being overcome by anger and fear only adds to that darkness, and we cannot see when the bridegroom come into that darkness.  So, we keep our lamps lit to see during the times of darkness, and we keep our lamps lit by keeping them filled with the oil of courage, hope, faith, and love. 

One way some of us have been keeping our lamps lit recently is through praying daily and meeting weekly together (over Zoom) to strive for justice.  This began a couple months ago with a conference on racial justice put on by the Episcopal Health Foundation.  Several of us from Emmanuel attended the conference from our homes, sitting on Zoom calls in front of our computers, and we decided to continue meeting to pray, and discuss, and learn together how we could strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being.  Part of that work is, when we see injustice, not to be overcome by fear and anger, but to keep our lamps lit with courage, faith, hope, and love.  

One of the folks in this group shared an article with me about two pastors who strive together for justice with their lamps lit.  The Reverend William Barber and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove were unlikely friends when they met:  Jonathan, a young white man from a deeply conservative church in the heart of former Klan country and William, a black preacher who strives and works for social and racial justice.  

Jonathan was 17 at the time and associated his faith with right-wing politics, and so he went to Washington to page in Senator Strom Thurmand’s office.  “When [he] came back,” he said “[he] was very disillusioned.  [He’d] been told about how people [in Washington] were representing [their] values and standing up for Christian faith, [but that was not what he found] life in a senator’s office…to really be about. It was mostly,” he said, “about lobbyists coming in and saying what their interests were, and trying to keep wealthy people happy.”

He was rather disillusioned after that, but instead of being overcome by fear and anger, he kept his lamp lit, and shortly thereafter, he heard Reverend Barber preach at an event in North Carolina.  He said he “immediately recognized someone who shared [his] faith, but who lived it out very differently than [he] had ever seen.”  So, with all of the courage and chutzpa of an enthusiastic 17 year old, he asked Reverend Barber to speak at his upcoming graduation.   

Now, Reverend Barber had no intention of speaking at this kid’s graduation in the middle of Klan country, but he said, “Ok, if I get an invitation, I’d be glad to come.”  So he got an invitation.  At that point, put up or shut up time, he could have been overcome by fear and anger, and he was afraid, but he had given his word, so he agreed to go.  His lamp was still burning with courage, faith, hope, and love.  

He spoke at their graduation, was invited over for dinner afterwards by Jonathan’s mother, and they shared some transformative time together.  Years later, they reconnected, and they began working together for social and racial justice and healing bringing people of all races and classes together.  They’ve worked to bring greater equality and justice to the people of North Carolina, and their work continues to this day.  

What if when they had met, they had been overcome with fear or anger, and their lamps had not been lit?  They would not have seen the bridegroom.  They would not have recognized the kingdom of God coming alive in those moments, and they would have missed the opportunity to become brothers and to strive together for justice and healing.  

Thankfully, their lamps were lit, and they had a good supply of the oil of courage, faith, hope, and love.  Be not afraid, that oil told them, and they found even more courage, faith, hope, and love in each other.  

See, we can and do find oil for our lamps in each other.  Our friends and family can provide that oil.  Public figures, authors, musicians, teachers, folks who are experts in their fields of study or work can all provide us with the oil of courage, faith, hope, and love.  Additionally, those who are downtrodden and oppressed and are not overcome by fear and anger can provide us with oil.  Those who strive for justice and peace can provide us with oil for our lamps.  Even presidents and vice presidents of the United States can provide us with oil for our lamps.  

None of these people, though, need to be the source of our courage, strength, hope, and love because we believe in a higher power than any of them.  We believe in God who is the source of all courage, faith, hope, and love.  We keep the oil for our lamps full by continually reaching out to God in prayer.  We keep the oil for our lamps full through service to one another and through fellowship and joy with one another.  We keep the oil for our lamps full by seeking justice and mercy in the lives of the world around us.  

With this oil in our lamps, we can continue walking in courage even when disillusioned.  We can keep hope alive, through faith in God and the resurrection of Jesus, and we can continue to give and to live love for all people.  

That is the oil which we keep in our lamps so that come what may, in dark days and in times of joy and plenty, we are still walking in the light, ready for the many times and ways that Jesus and God’s kingdom come among us to lead us with courage into even greater hope, and faith, and love.  So fear not, and do not be overcome by fear and anger.  Through God and through countless others, through prayer, fellowship, justice, and mercy, keep your lamps full of oil and walk in the light of God’s courage, faith, hope, and love.  

Bath Bombs and Cookies: A Loving Response

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Emmanuel Episcopal Church

October 25, 2020

Proper 25, A

1 Thessalonians 2:1-8

Matthew 22:34-46

Bath Bombs and Cookies:  A Loving Response

The way of our whole lives is love.  “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment,” Jesus said, “And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”  Love is the guide through all of the laws and situations in our lives.  

Last week, I said that everything we do, we do to God.  Every kindness we give one another, every act of cruelty or disgust, every word we utter, and every action we take, all are done and given to God.  Little wonder Jesus says to act out of love.  Love is the summation of the law and the lens through which we view the law.  If we read the law and do not first and foremost read it out of love, then we’re reading it wrong.  Some of the law is hard to read through a lens of love, and you’ll notice that sometimes Jesus broke the law in order to follow the law of love.  

When Jesus didn’t stone to death a woman caught in adultery, he was breaking the law.  Stoning the woman to death, murdering her, was not just the actions of an angry mob.  Those were the actions of people who were following the letter of the law.  By not killing this woman, Jesus was breaking the law.  He was, however, following, the law of love, the law of compassion.  “Go and sin no more,” he said to the woman, after he convinced the crowd that they had all sinned and messed up in their lives too, and so they didn’t need to act as some holier than thou executioners, ignoring their own faults while killing a woman for hers.  Jesus saw this law as not fulfilling the law of love.  Jesus saw this woman and realized that her life had more value than the poor choices she’d sometimes made.  Go and live your life with that value and the possibility of what may be; go and live a life of love as one who is beloved of God.

Like the woman in that story, we’re all God’s children, eternally beloved of God and eternally worthy of each others’ love.  When we break our own modern laws and when we harm each other, we’re still worthy of each other’s love.  That includes the people we really don’t like and the people who have really and truly hurt us.  Jesus said to love our enemies, and he even broke laws in order to give compassion and love to others, even those who were criminals and notorious sinners.  

Act out of love toward all people, Jesus taught, for all that we do for or against others is done for or against God.  All that we do for or against others is also done for or against others, other people, people who matter eternally, people whose live and possibilities matter more than their misdeeds, people whose misdeeds may be cries of hurt or brokenness.  

I read a story last week of a mom whose young daughter is completely worn out by COVID life, school, stress, all of it.  The mother recounted how her daughter came home in tears because she was so exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally.  She said this exhaustion sometimes come across as anger, and I’m guessing disrespect and poor behavior at home, but she said she understand that it is exhaustion.  So, on the day she recounted, she “listened for about ten minutes, held her [daughter] tight and scratched her back, and told her to meet [her] in [the] bathroom in five minutes.” 

Cue: Awesome Bath. Big clawfoot tub, gorgeous bubbles, delicious bath bomb, her favorite candle next to the tub, sweetened iced coffee in a pretty glass, [she] teed up Alexa to play her best music ("Fly Me to the Moon" by Frank Sinatra LOL) and put fresh cookies on a little table. I threw a towel in the dryer to get warm and cozy and dimmed the lights. [Her daughter] took one look at it all and grinned from ear to ear.   (https://www.facebook.com/jenhatmaker/)

Now that was a loving response.  She saw her daughter hurting.  Past the tears, anger, and probable shouting and disrespect, this mother saw her daughter in desperate need of some soothing, some love, and some being cared for.  Past some possible misdeeds, this mother saw a cry of hurt and brokenness, a loving response.  

This particular loving response, however, is not some a new law.  We’re not just going to start drawing baths for each other anytime someone is upset, rude, or disrespectful.  For one thing, not all of us are going to have fresh baked cookies and bath bombs on hand, every time we see someone stressed out and in need of some soothing, and for another thing there are a whole lot of us for whom the bubble Frank Sinatra cookie bath would not be a pleasant, soothing treat.  The bath was given because this mother saw a cry of hurt and brokenness, a loving response, not a law.  

Laws make response easier because a law is something of a formula.  This transgression equals this punishment.  This situation equals this treatment.  Stressed out person?  Have a bath.  Angry person?  Have a bath with lavender.  You were disrespectful?  Go to your room for 30 minutes and think about how to behave better.  Well, for some, that would be a great cool down period.  For others that would be a great building a strong resentment period.  

The formulas of the law can be helpful guides, jumping off points for how to handle difficult situations, but laws are not written or meant to apply to every situation perfectly.  What is going on within each other that we hurt one another, that we break our various laws?  That’s the question that the law often doesn’t ask.  Our laws say, “You did this, and so your punishment is this.”  

Further, we sometimes follow the strictures of the law because we just don’t know what the hell else to do.  As parents, as friends, as teachers, as employers or employees, as police, as lawyers, or even as lawmakers, we often don’t know what the hell to do, as a loving response, when people are behaving terribly and harmfully.  We don’t know how to respond in a loving way, so we do the best we can figure with the laws that we have.

There is an organization nationally and here in Houston call ReVision which works with youths who are in or recently out of the juvenile justice system.  These are kids who have broken laws and so they have gone to juvenile detention centers, been put on probation and the result is that these kids often end up remaining in the criminal justice system through adulthood.  The criminal justice system itself, try though it might, can’t do the work of loving response, and so these kids’ value and possibility as beloved children of God are lost to the law.  

So, ReVision works with these kids with paid staff and with unpaid ministers and volunteers to mentor these kids, to love these kids, to help guide these kids into their value and possibility as the beloved children of God that they are.  That is a loving response.  That is the law of love.

The law of love or a loving response says, “What cry of hurt or brokenness am I hearing within you that you did this harmful thing?  What response might actually bring healing to you and maybe even to me?”  “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment,” Jesus said, “And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’

What Do We Give to God? Everything.

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church

October 18, 2020

Proper 24, A

Matthew 22:15-22

What Do We Give to God?  Everything.

“Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and give to God the things that are God’s.”  Well, that shut the Pharisees up as they were trying to get Jesus in trouble.  See, being under the authority of Rome, no one in Israel could say they shouldn’t pay their taxes to Rome, to the emperor.  That kinda thing could get you in a lot of trouble pretty quick.  Then again, as an Israelite, you really couldn’t be boasting about giving money to a country whose leader claimed to be God.  

So, the Pharisees’ trap:  how could Jesus say to give financial support to a government that claimed divinity of their leader?  How could Jesus say to give financial support to a Roman society that ate exceedingly non-kosher and lived exceedingly not according to the ways of Israel?  How could Jesus say to give money to a government that kept soldiers garrisoned in Israel to keep Israel in line, no longer as a free nation?

The Pharisees thought they had Jesus pretty well caught in their trap.  I dare say, we often think we have each other similarly trapped when we talk about and question how people who say they love Jesus can vote differently that how we, or I, or you vote.

Sometimes the government doesn’t do what we believe is following the ways of God, and sometimes they do.  So, how we vote is important.  Our faith will likely influence how we vote, and our faith is going to influence some of us to vote one way and some of us to vote another.  Yet, in our convictions and in our faith, we often wonder, “How can anyone who claims to be a Christian vote differently than how I vote, as a Christian?”  Then, in our hubris, we lay for each other the Pharisees’ trap.  

Into that trap, Jesus said, “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and to God the things that are God’s.”   

Jesus recognized that we live simultaneously in at least two kingdoms.  Jesus and all of Israel lived in the Empire of Rome, in the Kingdom of Israel, and in the Kingdom of God.  Whether Jesus liked living under Roman control or not, he accepted it as a reality that would not change without bloody, armed revolt, and even then, it probably wouldn’t change.  So, Jesus decided, or realized, or knew that he could live simultaneously under the authority of Rome and still live in the Kingdom of God.  

We too live in at least two kingdoms.  We live in the kingdom of The United State of America, and and we live in the Kingdom of God.  How do we live in these two kingdoms as faithful followers of Jesus?  Some would say that doing so depends on how you vote and that voting for a candidate who believes in something contrary to a teaching of Jesus is voting against Jesus.  I would say, that’s not what Jesus said.  Remember that in saying “yes” to paying Roman taxes, Jesus said “yes” to giving financial support to a government that was decidedly anti-Jewish.  Jesus said “yes to giving financial support to a government that did things with that money that Israel and Jesus himself really didn’t like.  In the difficult situation of paying taxes to the Roman government, Jesus said, “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and give to God the things that are God’s.”

Remember also that before answering the Pharisees’ question, Jesus had them show him a coin which had the emperor’s likeness on it.  Jesus used the coin as a symbol, and not only a symbol of money.  The coin was a symbol of the Roman government and authority under which they lived, like it or not.  Notice, however, that he used no such symbol for God’s kingdom and authority under which they lived.  By having a symbol for Rome’s kingdom, Jesus showed that their kingdom was limited; God’s was not.

So how do we live in at least two kingdoms, one limited and one not?  What do we give to our government, and what do we give to God?  Well, we give to the government our votes.  We give what we owe for taxes.  We give our opinions to our elected officials, and we give our basic obedience to the laws they set forth.  Sometimes we also give our civil disobedience to the laws when those laws are unjust.  That’s a decent non-exhaustive list of what we give to our government, but what about God?

What do we give to God?  Everything.  I don’t mean that we should give God everything or we aught to give God everything.  I mean, whether intended or not, we give God everything.  

The kindnesses we give to the people we know and love, and the kindnesses we give to the people we hardly know are given to God.  Similarly, the hurt, contempt, and indifference we give to the people we know and love are given to God, and the hurt, contempt, and indifference we give to the people we hardly know are given to God.  Our votes even are given to God, and I daresay most of us are doing are darnedest to vote in a way that honors God’s kingdom, even when we vote differently from each other.  So, don’t let anyone tell you that vote goes against God’s kingdom or God’s way just because you vote differently than they do.  Do contemplate seriously how your vote does or does not follow the ways of God’s kingdom; realize also that by “God’s Kingdom,” I don’t mean particular religion or religious practice.  By God’s kingdom, I mean the beauty, light, and love of everything that is.  Everything we do is giving to God’s kingdom. 

Realizing that we give everything to God, the point is not to feel shamed or scared of messing up and giving God the wrong thing.  The point is to see the beauty of God’s kingdom all around us, to see the light and love of God’s kingdom all around us, and to let that beauty, light, and love transform us continually into beauty, light, and love, and then to live naturally out of that.  

Looking at all we have as part of God’s kingdom of beauty, light, and love, we see that everything we do and everything we give, and keep, and take is done in God’s kingdom to enhance or diminish the beauty, light, and love of God’s kingdom.  Again, as to any thoughts of shame or fear, we’re all going to take a lot of actions which diminish the beauty, light, and love of God’s kingdom.  God knows this, and God works to redeem those things.  Perfection is not what God asks of us; it never has been.  God asks that we work continually to align our motivations and our actions to accord with God’s will and God’s ways so that we make continual progress towards enhancing the beauty, light, and love of God’s kingdom.  

Now I can’t give every specific action of how we are to act to enhance God’s kingdom, but I can say, based on Jesus’ teachings, that the more we act as Lords over others, demanding our will and our way, assuming we know best for them, the more we diminish the beauty, light, and love of God’s kingdom.  On the other hand, the more we act as servants to others, and not as servants who are superior to others, but as true servants, the more we enhance the beauty, light, and love of God’s kingdom.  

See, God’s kingdom is in all of creation and through all of creation.  God’s kingdom is in and through and beyond all governments and political systems.  So yes, how we vote is part of what we give to God.  How we spent our money is part of what we give to God.  How we spend out time and how treat others is part of what we give to God.  What exactly do we give to God?  Everything.  

Playing Harmonica with Jesus

I played harmonica with Jesus today.  Actually, I was playing guitar, and he was playing harmonica.  We were standing outside of his car as he and his caregiver were attending our drive-thru Gathering Place.  

The Gathering Place is a monthly time of respite, entertainment, and hospitality for people who are living with Alzheimer's / dementia and their caregivers.  We had been holding these monthly gatherings for years indoors at our church, then with Coronavirus, that changed.  After months, we were able to have a drive-thru Gathering place in which our guests drove to locations in our parking lot with our church ministers there to provide the activities.

I was serving as a "roving musician," playing my guitar and singing songs for folks as they drove through.  The first guest was also a musician. 

They had arrived early, so I walked up to their car and asked if they wanted a song.  They did, and the elderly gentleman in the passenger seat had his harmonica with him, so I asked if he wanted to play with me.  He was very glad to do so and began getting out of the car to play.   His daughter/caregiver said of his playing, "It's just noise," not as an insult to him, it seemed, but to let me know out playing together might not be a rock solid jam session.  I smiled and said, "No, it's music," as I went around to the other side of the car to play.

Getting his harmonica out of its case took a few moments as his elderly, shaking fingers weren't as adept as they used to be.  The Alzheimer's had taken its toll, slurring his speech and slowing his movements.  I asked about his playing, and he said he used to play in a country band.  Then, taking note of the pitch of his harmonica, a blues D harp, I chose a couple of songs in the key of D.

We began playing together, he on his harmonica and I singing with my guitar.  It was beautiful.  His playing was mostly on one note, changing with the blow to the draw.  His disease and age had taken away his former skill, but it hadn't taken away the music.  We played together, savoring every note, enjoying the gift of song, of story, of the divine dance and whispered love that is music. 

After finishing a second song together, it was time for them to drive on up and through the rest of The Gathering Place.  I don't even know the gentleman's name, but I know who he was.  He was Jesus.  He was God with us.  He was who he was, a man born decades ago, beloved of God and of countless others, family and friends, all fellow children of the Divine One.

In Matthew 25:31-46, Jesus says, "Whatever you have done to the least of these, you have done to me."  Whether sharing food with one who is hungry, water with one who is thirsty, visiting one in hospital or prison, or sharing music with one whose mind has been ravaged by Alzheimer's, Jesus said these things we have done to him, we have done to God.

Every single one of us is a beloved child of God, and God lives within each of us.  Making music together with this beloved man, playing harmonica with Jesus, I was blessed, and for a few moments, God revealed the world beyond the veil.  A couple of things stuck with me.  

One:  Jesus plays a mean harp.  

Two: moments of blessing and union are all around us, the world alight with the Divine One who is in and through all of creation, every moment, every speck bursting with opportunity for life and love.  

The Deeper Music

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church
September 27, 2020
Proper 21, A
Philippians 2:1-13
Matthew 21:23-32

The Deeper Music

I had a great online dialogue with a friend and fellow singer-songwriter last week about our similar and different beliefs on God and being.  She grew up Christian, has since left the church, and still believes “in prayer, God, and living a good life.”  She said she has friends who are atheists and friends who are Christian, and she respects and loves them all.  She said, “Love is the key. And we need more [love] in the world!”

I then shared a bit about how and why I believe in Jesus.  She was appreciative to read that, and then I wrote, “Thank you…for your words, your music, and getting to share in the deep[er] music, even via [text chatting].”  That deeper music is the inkling of God that runs through the world.  That deeper music is the desire for justice, peace, and love at the core of all of us. 

Looking at our gospel story today, we saw some conflict arise between the chief priest and elders, and Jesus.  Anytime Jesus has conflict with political or religious leaders, I tend not to read those stories as being about love, but rather as either/or, in or out, one side over another kinds of stories.  I believe, however, that that is an incorrect and harmful reading of these texts.  Looking at our Gospel story for today, the chief priests and the elders were questioning Jesus about his authority to reform the Temple worship and sacrifice.  He’d recently overturned the tables of the money changers and driven the animals out of the temple, and in doing so, he’d disrupted the system of animal sacrifice which had been in place in the religious practice of Israel since before the Temple was built.  This system of animal sacrifice was intended to help people give thanks to God and to repent and ask for God’s forgiveness when they went against God’s ways.  Jesus was seeking to reform that system of sacrifice.    

So, there is conflict in this story, no question, but if we look at this story as either/or, in or out, one side over another, then we end up with Jesus as the good guy and the chief priest and elders as the bad guys…or the other way around.  What if we don’t look at the story as good guys vs. bad guys?  What if we look to the deeper music being played in the story?  

“Who gave you [the] authority,” to reform the sacrificial system of Israel?  They asked, and Jesus responded with a question about who was doing the will of God, those who say they would and then don’t, or those who say they won’t and then do.  He was referring to people’s responses to John the Baptist.  

The sacrificial system of Israel at the time seems not to have been working for a lot of people.  The tax collectors and prostitutes whom Jesus mentioned seem not to have been transformed or healed by the system of temple sacrifice.  The sacrifices weren’t leading to repentance for them.  The temple sacrifices weren’t leading them to the deeper music, to walking with God in justice, peace, and love.  John’s baptism, on the other hand, seems to have done so. 

Now, the point is not that baptism is better than animal sacrifice.  The point is not, “are you doing your religion correctly?”  The particular religion or religious practice isn’t really relevant.  The point is, “are you doing the will of God?”  Are you listening to and following the deeper music of justice, peace, and love?  

So we see this story is not about an either/or, in-group/out-group, one side over another conflict in which we get to declare “Jesus good" and “chief priest and elders bad.”  Both sides in this conflict brought some to follow more closely the will of God.  The deeper music was not whose religious practices were best.  The deeper music was the seeking of God, the seeking of justice, peace, and love that pervaded both religious practices.  

Back to my conversation with my friend, the deeper music is about us, humanity, coming together in following God’s will and God’s way of justice, peace, and love.  I would say, if that happens through Christianity, great.  If coming together and following God’s way of justice, peace, and love, happens through Judaism, great.  If coming together and following God’s way of justice, peace, and love happens through Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, or any other religion, great.  If coming together and following God’s way of justice, peace, and love happens through no religion or belief in God of any kind, great.  

See, I believe that when we are walking the way of justice, peace, and love, when we’re living the deeper music, then we’re walking in the way of God whether we believe in God or not.  

Who’s in and who’s out is not the point.  The point is following God’s will and God’s way of justice, peace, and love.  In our society, when we have lived with a “who’s in and who’s out” mindset, then we have tended to end up with women and minorities being treated as less than:  less wages, less opportunities, less protections under the law.    

Many have been mourning over the last week, the loss of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.  She championed the rights of women and minorities not to be treated as less than.  She was unwilling to accept that women weren’t supposed to do, well much of anything outside of the home.  That was the view of things when she was growing up.  Women were supposed to find a husband, and men were supposed to do everything else in the world.  

Justice Ginsburg didn’t buy that worldview, and she worked throughout her life to uphold laws for equality and to overturn unjust laws that upheld inequality.  In all that she stood for and worked for throughout her life, she was a champion of justice, peace, and love.  Ruth Bader Ginsburg listened to and followed the deeper music.  Even in her dissents, she didn’t view the other justices as being part of the out group.  She was good friends with Justice Antonin Scalia with whom she often disagreed strongly, strongly but not unkindly.  Rather than shout and belittle and shame, Justice Ginsburg would disagree in a way so as to bring others along with her.  Rather than simply declare a right in group and a wrong out group, she sang the deeper music and worked to bring the other side along with her, seeking not to take justice and equality from those who had it, but to bring justice and equality to all.  See, RBG lived not for an either/or, in or out, one side over another kind of society.  RBG lived for the deeper music of justice, peace, and love.  

Now that she has died, many of us feel a hole in the world, as though the deeper music has been quieted and lessened.  Remember, however, that although Ruth Bader Ginsburg has died, she is also alive with God, and the deeper music plays on as strongly as ever.  Her work is ours to continue; her music is ours to make.  Justice, peace, and love didn’t end with Jesus’ death, and justice, peace, and love does not end with RBG’s death.  Justice, peace, and love is the will of God, the deeper music throughout our lives, and this deeper music is not a solo act.  The deeper music of justice, peace, and love is made by all of us together, every voice important:  yours, mine, those we love, those we struggle to love.  The deeper music is God’s presence, God’s way, and God’s will of justice, peace, and love which runs through all of us, every person a part of each others’ song.

The Cloak of Forgiveness, Healing, and Love

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church
September 13, 2020
Proper 19, A

Matthew 18:21-35

The Cloak of Forgiveness, Healing, and Love

So, how many times do we have to forgive?  Not just seven times, but seventy times seven…times.  I actually did the math, and seven times seventy is 490.  Now, 490 forgivenesses would be kinda hard for me to keep track of, so I did some more math, using this prayer bracelet.  It has 14 knots, so if I pray to forgive a person on each knot, every day, then I’ll reach that 490 number in 35 days.  So, with this prayer bracelet, I need to pray to forgive someone once a day for one month and an additional four days or five days, depending on the month.

Ok, I don’t think that’s quite what Jesus had in mind, although praying to forgive someone 14 times a day for 35 days just might go a long way to help me actually forgive someone and release that burden.  We’ll get back to that idea, but first I want to take a look at this seventy times seven number that Jesus gives.  

The number of times Jesus says we should forgive someone is not arbitrary.  The number comes from Genesis chapter 4.  Cain killed his brother Abel and then was told that if anyone killed him, he would be avenged sevenfold.  See, Cain was afraid that the whole world would be against him for killing his brother, so being avenged sevenfold was a form of protection.  If you are killed, you’ll be avenged sevenfold.  Ok, so murder bad, and lots of vengeance is brought into the world.  Then, Cain’s great-great-great grandson, Lamech killed a man, and he was presumably afraid that someone might seek retaliation against him.  So he said,  “If Cain is avenged sevenfold, truly Lamech seventy-sevenfold.” (Genesis 4:24). That’s a lot of vengeance.  

So when Jesus told Peter that he was to forgive as many as seventy-sevenfold times, Jesus was saying, as much vengeance as there is in the world, that is how much you are to forgive.  

A total reversal of vengeance upon vengeance.  A total reversal of keeping a record of wrongs and demanding punishment or repayment of the debt of those wrongs.  A letting go of vengeance and restitution and seeking instead healing and restoration.  

Love is the idea that Jesus gives, not keeping a record of wrongs.  Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 13:5 that love keeps no record of wrongs.  Now, in the New Revised Standard Version, it reads love is not resentful.  That’s a nice summation of “keeps no record of wrongs.”  Resentment is just that, keeping a record of wrongs.   

Resentment says, “I will not let this go; I will not forgive the wrong done to me until it has been avenged seventy-sevenfold.”  Then, after waiting for a seventy-sevenfold vengeance, our hearts have been turned dark, and we find we are no longer able to forgive.  All we can really do at that point is to continue in anger and resentment, the burden having grown more than we can bear, but the burden also having wrapped itself around us like a cloak so tight that we cannot escape its grasp.  

Instead of vengeance seventy-sevenfold, Jesus tells us to forgive seventy-sevenfold.  As much vengeance as there is in the world, that is how much we are to forgive.  In doing so, we unburden ourselves.  The cloak of anger and resentment loosens its grip, until we can eventually let that heavy cloak fall to the ground and be clothed instead with the cloak of light, the cloak forgiveness, healing, and love.   

Forgiving others is not about what is owed or what is deserved.  Forgiving others is about unburdening ourselves and unburdening them.

  

I should note that unburdening is not the same as continuing to go back for abuse.  “I keep going back and they keep on hurting me.”  Stop going back.  Forgiveness does not mean keep going back.  Forgiveness is release, letting go of the debt, erasing the record of wrongs.  Forgiveness is letting go of the hurt, knowing it can’t be fully restored, and out of love (for self and for the other), releasing the debt, erasing the record of wrongs.  You can also stop lending to that person so to speak.  With forgiveness, you may need to say, “I can’t be around you anymore,” or “here are the boundaries I need to be able to be around you.”  That’s ok.  I doubt the king in Jesus’ story continued to lend to the servant from whom he had forgiven all that debt.  

Forgiveness is letting go of the hurt and the desires for vengeance.  Remember that love is the idea, love of self and love of the other, and love as forgiveness releases us and each other from the dark, heavy cloak of vengeance.  Then love lets us be clothed instead with the cloak of light, the cloak of forgiveness, healing, and love.   

  

Love keeps no record of wrongs, but our brains do, don’t they?  Our brains keep a record of wrongs; our emotions keep a record of wrongs.  They keep these records in our bodies, in our neural pathways, in our senses of sight, touch, smell, hearing, sound.  The record of wrongs is written all over, in, and through our bodies, and so it takes work to erase that record.  It takes work to unburden ourselves and to truly forgive.  

Now, back to the idea of forgiving someone 490 times, back to the idea of using a prayer bracelet to pray forgiveness over someone 14 times a day for 35 days.  Doing so would go a long way to help me actually forgive someone and release the burden of anger and resentment.  As I pray to forgive someone over and over, I start to rewire those neural pathways so that they are no longer focused on vengeance and resentment.  They become focused instead on love.  As I pray to forgive someone over and over, I begin to see that person as a broken and sick individual who needs love and healing just as I do.  So, forgiving someone 490 times, or 14 times a day for 35 days is probably a good start toward actually being able to forgive that person.  We pray over and over to forgive the person who has wronged us, and then we pray, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.”  We pray this day after day, month after month, year after year, until our bodies no longer hold the records of wrongs done to us, for love keeps no record of wrongs.  

How often are we to forgive?  We are to forgive seventy-sevenfold.  As much vengeance as there is in the world, that is how much we are to forgive.  We work daily at forgiveness, over and over again, and as we work at forgiveness the grip of the cloak of resentment begins to loosen and eventually falls off, and then, unburdened, we can be clothed instead with the cloak of light, the cloak of forgiveness, healing, and love.