Be Perfect, Everybody...

Brad Sullivan

7th Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Leviticus 19:1-2,9-18
Psalm 119:33-40
1 Corinthians 3:10-11,16-23
Matthew 5:38-48

Be perfect, everybody, you got that. Anything short of perfection, and you’re out. Perfection is a pretty tall order although as Garrison Keeler pointed out, Jesus was preaching this sermon on a mount, and here in Houston things are pretty flat, so it might not be quite as applicable to us here. Looking more seriously at the scripture, I don’t know that Jesus was saying, “be forever without fault or defect of any kind,” when he said to be perfect.

He didn’t actually even give the absolute command, “be perfect.” He rather said, “you will be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly father is perfect.” Further, the word translated as perfect can also mean “whole” and “complete”. Be whole people. Be complete people, and in that way, perfect, as your heavenly father is whole, complete, perfect.

We tend to love trying to measure up to the sinless life of Jesus and then castigating ourselves for not measuring up. That’s not the point of this passage, to set some incredibly high bar of perfection in our lives which we can never attain so that we can then spend the rest of our lives feeling badly about ourselves.

Notice that everything leading up to this statement about perfection or wholeness was a teaching about how to love others. "You have heard that it was said, `An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also…” (Matthew 5:38-39) That’s a difficult saying, to be sure, I don’t know that Jesus is telling us to sit idly by while someone beats us to a bloody pulp. I don’t believe Jesus is telling people in abusive relationships to keep taking the abuse. Jesus isn’t telling us to sit idly by while people abuse others or to ignore injustice or violence. Jesus wants us to stand up for the victims of fear, injustice, and oppression.

He’s simply commanding us to do so in love. In the example he gives, Jesus is telling us to end a cycle of violence before it really gets going. Rather than fighting back when someone strikes you on the cheek (which will lead to both people being hurt and one person likely being substantially more hurt than the other), take a bruised cheek, and offer another one. See if that will end it. We’re not talking about letting someone keep knocking our teeth out. The image Jesus gives is one of a person full of peace and love such that being struck on the cheek doesn’t incite a violent response. Such a heart doesn’t seek vengeance. Such a heart doesn’t return evil for evil. Such a heart sees with compassion, even towards one’s enemies. A heart full of peace and love is a heart that is whole, a heart that is deeply rooted in God.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu who faced terrible violence in South Africa said of his ministry, “I wouldn’t have survived without fairly substantial chunks of quiet and meditation. The demands that are made on one almost always seem to be beyond one’s natural capacities. There would be many times when the problems, the crises we were facing seemed about to overwhelm us. There’s no way in which you could have confronted these in your own strength.”

In her book The Soul of a Leader, Margaret Benefiel writes about Archbishop Tutu and gives an example of Archbishop Tutu interrupting a cycle of violence. There was a terrible occasion, when security forces killed 38 people in Sebokeng, a black township of South Africa, in 1990. When word of the massacre reached Archbishop Tutu, he was meeting with his synod of bishops. “He left the meeting to cry and pray in the chapel, and then, feeling directed by God, returned to the bishops,” and urged them to “suspend our meeting, which had never happened before, and go [to Sebokeng].” All of the bishops unanimously agreed, and the next morning they left for Sebokeng.

When they arrived, they celebrated the Eucharist in a local church and visited the injured and the bereaved. Soon thereafter, a convoy of armored police vehicles with tear gas and machine guns appeared. John Cleary of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation reported what he observed:

I heard the archbishop say, “Let us pray.” Then the noise of the vehicles stopped. The crowd went quiet. There was no sound from the Casspirs, no sound of tear gas canisters. So I looked around and there, behind me, were the Anglican bishops of Southern Africa—black, white, coloured, old, young—standing between the crowd and the Casspirs, with their arms outstretched. In that moment, I understood a little about what the Christian vision for a new South Africa cost people. I’d never witnessed that sort of courage before.

http://www.americamagazine.org/content/article.cfm?article_id=11625

Archbishop Tutu and his fellow bishops, their hearts full of peace and love, deeply rooted in God, met violence with prayer, and ended the cycle of violence. Look again at what Jesus preached to his disciples, "You have heard that it was said, `You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” I doubt Archbishop Tutu had the most warm and fuzzy feelings for the men who had killed the people of Sebokeng, but he had enough love for them to give them prayer rather than violence in response to their violence.

There is no way he could have done that if his heart was full of hatred. He had every right to be hateful toward those men, his enemies, but having that hatred for them would not have brought about a peaceful resolution. Rather than be full of hate, Archbishop Tutu and his fellow bishops were made whole, complete, perfect.

Jesus was right in telling us not to hate our enemies because we can’t deal with hate. Nowhere does scripture tell us to hate our enemies. Plenty says God will hate or does hate the enemies of Israel of the enemies of justice and mercy. So perhaps people extrapolated from those verses of scripture that since God hates our enemies, we should hate them too. "You have heard that it was said, `You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.'” The problem we find is that when we hate, love is driven from us. When we hate, even justifiably, we are diminished. We become less of who we are, hatred takes over and fills in the places that once contained us.

How can God then hate evil and those who do evil and still be whole, complete, perfect, holy? Presumably, God can do whatever God does. Even saying God hates these things, however, may be to ascribe too human a character to God. God is. In the way of life given to us by God, we find something of what God is.

The Israelites were told in Leviticus to “be holy, for [God is] holy.” Then a way of life was described in order for the people to be holy. This way of life included things like: honoring ones parents, keeping God’s Sabbaths, leaving some of one’s crop for the poor, being honest in words and actions, not stealing, making sure workers had enough wages for their daily living, looking out for the disabled, seeking justice, not hating one’s family, not taking vengeance, loving one’s neighbor.

We see in commanding this way of life not only a beautiful way for us to live, but we are also given a glimpse into the nature of God. God desires for us love, peace, honor, care for others, justice, reconciliation. Evil, injustice, malice, heartlessness, ruthlessness…these things, therefore, seem anathema to God. So, we say God hates these things. God can. God can hate those things that are anathema to God. God can do so without being destroyed. God remains whole, complete, perfect in love. We cannot. We do not. When we hate, our love is destroyed.

How then can we remain perfect, whole and complete in peace and love, without hate? Jesus tells to do so by praying. One of my seminary professors, Bishop Mark Dyer told us of a practice of prayer which he does every day. He takes out his calendar in the morning and prays for ever meeting he is going to have, ever person he knows he’s going to encounter throughout the day. He prays for those whom he is looking forward to seeing and those who, as he puts it, “get [his] Irish up.”

We’ve all got the folks who drive us a little nuts. Pray for them too. Pray for friends and family. Pray for the annoying ones. Pray for the ones we hold as enemies. Pray for a heart full of peace and love, deeply rooted in God. Such prayers and such hearts will make us whole, complete, perfect, even as God is perfect. Amen.

We've got God right where we want him

Brad Sullivan

4th Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Micah 6:1-8
Psalm 15
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Matthew 5:1-12

I think it’s pretty safe to say that we, Christians the world over, and really people of any faith are generally searching after God. We’re seeking God to draw near to God and to be ever closer to God in our lives. At the same time, I think that we in the church (worldwide) and in other religions are sometimes maybe hunting or tracking God in order to capture him rather than merely seeking God. I picture a couple of hunters going through a forest tracking God and coming to the bush where they know God’s hiding and they say to each other, “alright we’ve got God right where we want him.” Then they pull the bush, and one of them realizes God isn’t there, while the other one is just totally clueless and picks up whatever happens to be there.

“I’ve got him. I’ve got God right here.”
“Um, dude, that’s a stick.”
“No it’s God, and you have to do what I say. Ooh, and God has to do what I say. I’m awesome.”

We see this happening in our passage from Micah. God says to the people of Israel:

"With what shall I come before the LORD, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? …He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

We all know from Leviticus that there was animal sacrifice to make atonement for sin in ancient Israel, and Micah was referring to that sacrificial system. God is basically saying “enough already with the burnt offerings. Be kind and merciful and just to one another, otherwise your religious practice is rather false.” There wasn’t necessarily anything wrong with the religious practices of ancient Israel except for those who sought to control God through their religious practices rather than to be changed by their religious practices. If I follow the religious practice, then God must bless me and make me right with him, but that’s not going to do it for God. As Isaiah wrote, “…these people draw near with their mouths and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me, and their worship of me is a human commandment learned by rote”. (Isaiah 29:13).

Good religious practices become bad religious practices when we try to control God with them rather that be changed by them. We find this throughout the history of the church too, times when we’ve sought to control God through our religion. A great example is the selling of indulgences in the Roman Church centuries ago. People felt they could literally buy their way into heaven. The apostle Peter had been given the keys to the kingdom of heaven and if he forgave the sins of any they would be forgiven. So, as the religion progressed, the popes were understood as Peter’s successors. So if they forgave the sins of any they would be forgiven by God. Forgiveness of sin was needed to get into heaven, and it got to the point that if you gave money to the church, you could have your sins forgiven by the pope. Giving money to the church was a good thing, an act of charity, and it was seen as a sign of repentance. Having shown a sign of repentance, forgiveness was granted.

Unfortunately, the practice became a rule and so, in practice, you could literally buy your way into heaven, and God was understood to be bound by this. These were the rules we thought God had given, only God wasn’t really playing by those rules so he called on his buddy Martin and asked for a reformation. (Martin Luther, Protestant Reformation) Just when we think we’ve got God right where we want him, he escapes our clutches and leads us back into living lives of faith, mercy, justice, and love.

Paul was reminding the Corinthians of this in his letter to them. The Corinthians were divided as we’ve heard in recent weeks, and some of it seemed to be over their religious and non-religious pedigree.

“Paul baptized me.”
"Bully for you, I was baptized by Apollos, and he was much better than Paul, so much more eloquent. His recitation of the baptismal liturgy was flawless. God was obviously more pleased with my baptism than with yours.”

Paul is saying today, “hold on a second guys, if that’s the kind of thing God used in order to bless people, then none of you would have even been baptized. It’s not as though y’all were overly intelligent, or powerful, or particularly important by society’s standards. That’s not why God blessed you. God blessed you because he loves you so be grateful, and stop trying to control God. Stop quarreling about who’s better or more blessed.

This question about God’s blessing the question which Jesus was addressing in the beginning of the sermon we heard today. In Jesus’ time (and in our time) people assumed God’s blessing by prosperity, peace, large families, health, joy, a lack of tragedy or misfortune. The flip side is also true. People often assumed God’s blessing was withheld from those who weren’t healthy, and prosperous, or besought by tragedy.

Jesus says, “No, no. The ones whom we assume to be blessed by God are not the only ones who are blessed. Those who by all outward appearances, we would assume are not blessed: the poor in spirit, the meek, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, those who mourn, they are also blessed. Blessed as well are those who may have no outward sign of being blessed: the pure in heart, the merciful, the peacemakers, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. All of these are also blessed by God. You may have your rules,” Jesus was saying, “about those whom you believe God has blessed, but God isn’t bound by your rules. God can bless whomever God wants to bless.

Of course we in the church then took Jesus’ pronouncement of God’s blessing available even to the unblessables, and we made new rules about it. If you want to be blessed by God, you better mourn. Remember, we’re Christians; we’re supposed to be downtrodden, so if you’re too happy, God won’t be. Dallas Willard points out the absurdity of turning the beatitudes into rules of blessedness in his book The Divine Conspiracy. If you’re not persecuted, you can’t be blessed. Wait, you’re not meet? You’re kind of bold and brave? Well, you can’t be blessed.

The beatitudes are not prescriptions by which God must bless us or ways in which we can manipulate God into blessing us. The beatitudes are rather descriptions of some of the ways in which God’s blessing is available to all, and our efforts at controlling God and forcing his hand are all for naught.

When we use our religions to try to force God’s hand or try to capture and control God, then our good religious practices become sticks by which we use to try to have people measure up or sometimes use to punish people for not measuring up. When that happens, God escapes our clutches leads us back once again to live as he intends us to live. God wants us to live lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love. Living lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love, we will find God. Oops, there’s another rule. Living lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love, we’re not going to capture God, we’re not going to contain God or control God, but we will be living the divine life, God’s life of love.

That’s what Micah was calling the people of Israel to do, to continue with the sacrificial system if so desired, but to live lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love. Paul was reminding the Corinthians that it didn’t matter who baptized them or how great they thought they were. He called on them to quit quarreling and to live lives of faith, justice, mercy, and love. Jesus was telling his disciples that it didn’t matter if they thought someone was bless or not, God’s blessing was available to all, so quit worrying about who is blessed and who is not. Rather, live lives of faith, justice, mercy and love. Live God’s life of love.  Amen.

An angry mob with torches

Brad Sullivan

5th Sunday after the Epiphany
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Emmanuel, Houston
Isaiah 58:1-9
Psalm 112:1-9
1 Corinthians 2:1-12, (13-16)
Matthew 5:13-20

If you’ve heard me preach more than a few times, you’ve likely heard me reference this passage from Isaiah or similar passages. Just last week, we heard a similar passage from Micah, the basic idea being that our religious practices can become meaningless and will not make us righteous if our religious practices don’t also lead us to live lives of faith, justice, mercy and love as I also said last week.

Hearing from Isaiah today, he’s talking about fasting, and at first glance we think, “this would be a great passage for Lent: No Fasting!” Of course that’s not Isaiah’s point. He’s not saying that we shouldn’t fast, but that we should not think that through fasting we will be made righteous and wonderful before God. If we seek God through fasting, that’s a good thing. If through our fasting we come to a greater reliance on and trust in God, that is a good thing. The way it works is, we want whatever it is we deny ourselves during our fast.

Rationally, we know we can make it, but it feels like we can’t possibly make it through. “I want the thing from which I’m fasting, and I need it right now. Life can’t possibly be ok if I don’t get this thing that I want right now.” Then, enter a prayer of trust in God. “Lord, I don’t know how life will be ok if I don’t get the thing from which I’m fasting right now, but I’ll trust you that life will be ok. I’ll trust you that I’ll be ok without this thing.”

Through fasting in such a way, we, little by little, gain greater trust in God. Trusting in God with the little things in our lives like fasts, we may then learn to trust God in the big things in our lives. Live not only for yourself, but for others as well. Seek justice and mercy and don’t worry about your life. Those seek like pretty tall orders. The practice and habit of fasting can help us trust God in those things as well.

It’s not a fool proof plan, however, as we’ve heard in the passage from Isaiah. We can fast without overly trusting in God, but simply to hold bragging rights about who’s a better faster or whose righteousness is greater than whose.

Jesus said, “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” The scribes and the Pharisees kept the law, but did so in ways that did not honor God or other people. The way of life, given by God, had become for some rules to be followed and when possible navigated around. Keeping the rules in such a way does not please God.

For a modern Christian example, look at the way we do confession in the church. Jesus taught us that if we’re bringing an offering to the altar, that if we have a complaint against someone, we should first seek to be reconciled to that person and then bring our offering to the altar. Over the centuries in the Roman church that became translated to, “confess your sins to a priest, and then you can have communion.” As a way of life, that can be helpful. As a rule, it can be destructive.

A man came to be seeking to fulfill that rule one time before communion. He told me he was angry with someone and that he had to have confession or else he couldn’t receive communion. I kept telling him otherwise. “Go ahead and have communion and then seek reconciliation afterwards.” He refused, and I finally consented. The problem was he didn’t seem overly sorry, he was just angry and needed to hear that God would forgive him. I was caught short by the fact that this man seemed to want to fulfill the rule without actually seeking reconciliation.

I then found, however, that having heard the assurance of God’s forgiveness for those who repent, this man was able to forgive. In that time he was able to let go of his anger and come to communion in peace. There was a problem going on that this man felt that the rule must be followed, at the same time, the way of life intended by the rule also helped heal this man. So, we have a little of what Isaiah was preaching against and what Isaiah was preaching about both going on in this story.

What then, does any of this have to do with Jesus’ statement to his followers, “You are the salt of the earth”? What he actually said was, “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.” Jesus was preaching to his disciples, a group of Jews, God’s chosen people. They were the salt of the earth because they had been given faith in God and a way of life by God in order to be a light to the world.

“Let your light shine before others,” Jesus said, “so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Fulfill the law, Jesus telling his followers, but don’t live the law the way the scribes and Pharisees do. Fulfill the law in the way Isaiah preached. Fulfill the law in such a way as to bring about justice and mercy. ‘We have a beautiful way of life, Jesus was saying, a way of life centered around faith in God love and reconciliation and justice and mercy. Much of the world doesn’t live this way, so let your light shine so that others may see and come to know God and the beautiful way of life he has given us.

Israel was created to be that light to the nations, and we in the church are part of that light. We have been given faith in God and a beautiful way of life. We too are asked to let our light shine before others that they may see our good works and give glory to our Father in heaven. We’ve been formed to be a city on a hill, or a light shining in the darkness. Unfortunately in the history of the church, we have at times turned even this image of light bearer into a rule which must be followed.

There were times when the church was going to “Christianize” the world. We’ve had forced confessions and baptisms. We’ve fought wars and threatened people with eternal fires of everlasting damnation, all in the name of being a light in the darkness to lead people to God. Even today, we still have, in various parts of the church, evangelism as threats of hell, scare tactics, condemning and belittling those who do not believe. I view such times in our history and such behavior today not as a light on a hill but as people carrying torches forcing their way into people’s lives and home, burning much in their way.

We weren’t called to force our faith or way of life on anyone, but to offer to people our faith and way of life. We were called to continue in our way of life, faithful to God, seeking justice, mercy, love, and reconciliation. We were called to remain salty in our way of life, like Isaiah called Israel to be. Do fast, even during Lent. Practice your faith. Keep the way of life you’ve been given no to give yourself a pat on the back but to seek God, justice, mercy, love, and reconciliation. Then be a light to others. Let folks know about your way of life.

Thinking again about the sacrament of reconciliation, for example, many outside the church see it as confession to a priest that must be done in order to be forgiven by God. Such a view is untrue and blinds people to the beauty of being able to confess one’s sins in a safe place, to receive counsel, and to hear God’s words of forgiveness declared by a human being. It is a way of life that can bring about reconciliation. There’s no magic about it, no incantation or rule. It was a way of life that can be helpful.

Now, imagine next time we see or hear about confession as this oppressive rule, or see an image in a movie or book about the oppressive rule of confession, imagine giving an explanation of the sacrament of reconciliation as a beautiful way of life. Now that would be a light shining in the darkness. Imagine fasting come Ash Wednesday and explaining to someone why you’re not eating lunch, not as a rule to be followed, but as a way of life in which we might come to greater dependence on and trust in God. That’s being alight in the darkness. Sometimes our lights are not so much torches that we carry in an angry mob, threatening people, but a beautiful way of life that we follow, a beautiful faith that we have that we can then share with others, as a light in the darkness and a city on a hill. Amen

Jesusocalypse

Brad Sullivan

Advent 3, Year A
Sunday, December 12th, 2010
Emmanuel, Houston
Isaiah 35:1-10
Canticle 15
James 5:7-10
Matthew 11:2-11

In our letter from James today, he talks about waiting with patience for the coming of the Lord. The second coming of Jesus was something for which they were longing. Is it still? Jesus’ second coming seems often like a dreaded event. Maybe we’ve forgotten who Jesus was and is.

What happened at Jesus’ first coming? The blind received their sight and the lame walked, lepers were cleansed and the deaf heard, and the dead were raised up and the poor had good news preached to them. This in and of itself was lovely, and makes Jesus one heck of a nice guy, but there’s more to Jesus’ statement to John’s disciples than a list of the nice things Jesus was doing. Jesus was referring back to the passage from Isaiah that we heard today.

In this passage, Isaiah prophesied that the wilderness would be glad and the desert would rejoice because the redeemed were going to walk there and the ransomed of the Lord would return. Creation itself was going to rejoice because the people of Israel were going to return from captivity in Babylon. We often refer to this passage as being about the eschaton, the end of all time, when God will restore all of creation, correcting all of the harms done. At the time Isaiah preached, however, this passage was likely about the return of the exiles of Judah from Babylon.

The wilderness and the desert would see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of Israel’s God. The wilderness and the desert would see the ransomed people of Israel and therefore God’s glory and majesty at bringing the people out of bondage in Babylon and into the land of promise. Also in this passage, there was a group told to encourage the captives to take heart, that God would save them from captivity. The blind would see, the deaf hear, the mute speak. Take heart, God will make all things right, and also water would break forth in the wilderness, and the glory of Lebanon would be there.

Well, the glory of Lebanon was its cedar and cypress trees out of which the temple was built. So the desert and the wilderness were going to become a place of worship for God. God’s presence was going to dwell there and a very tangible, real way like in the temple in Jerusalem, as the people were passing through on their way back to Jerusalem. So the people of Israel are told they’re going to have something of the Temple, God’s holy presence with them as they travel through the wilderness on their promised journey from Babylon to Jerusalem. That calls to mind the tent, the Tabernacle that the people of Israel carried around with them during their wandering in the wilderness with Moses during the exodus from Egypt.

Isaiah is calling up images from the exodus to describe their new journey, this new exodus from Babylon, but he also brings new things into it. Even better than the tabernacle, they’ll have the temple with them this time. Now obviously they can’t carry the temple with them, but the presence of God will be with them as thought the temple were with them. The glory of Carmel will be there, possibly a reference to Mount Carmel where Elijah defeated the prophets of Baal. As much as God cared for the people of Israel during the exodus from Egypt, so will God be with the people of Israel in an even greater way in this new exodus from Babylon.

In this exodus, a highway will be there, the Holy Way, and the unclean won’t pass over it. It will be a protected way (by God) for his people. The redeemed will walk there. The ransomed (captives) will return (from Babylon) to Zion (to Jerusalem), and a highway will be where the haunt of jackals was. This haunt of jackals refers back to the previous chapter in which judgment was pronounced on Edom, the land which refused to let the Israelites pass through during the first exodus on their way to the land of Canaan. So, Edom would be turned into a haunt of jackals. Then, the haunt of jackals would become a swamp…and a highway would be there which is exactly what was not available to the Israelites on the first exodus.

God would make their journey far easier than the first wilderness journey after the exodus from Egypt. God’s glory would be with them as they traveled, like in the temple. God would drive everyone out of the way, and water would spring forth in the wilderness. This journey from Babylon would be familiar. It would be like the first exodus, but this second exodus would also be like nothing they had ever seen before.

So now, flash forward to Jesus. John’s disciples ask him if he is the one who is to come, and what does Jesus say? The blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear. The dead are raised up and the poor have good news preached to them. This list is like the promises made in Isaiah, but it’s also an expanded list. The dead are raised and the poor have good news preached to them. Yes, Jesus was the one who was to come, and he was something new. Jesus was telling John’s disciples that he was fulfilling the passage from Isaiah but obviously in a different way than before. Rather than a prophet proclaiming what would happen or what had happened, Jesus was the embodiment of the prophet’s proclamation.

God becoming human and living among us was nothing that had been seen before, totally new, and yet God had been with the people through Torah, the Temple, the prophets, and other ways. Jesus was the human embodiment of all that had come before: the embodiment of Torah, the temple, the prophets. All that God was and is, and all the ways God had been with the people of Israel were embodied in Jesus. So Jesus, the God-man was something that had never before been seen, and yet there was something very familiar about Jesus.

So now, flash forward to the second coming of Jesus, this cosmic event which James and his readers were anticipating with excitement and joy. They were waiting patiently, wanting it to happen sooner rather than later. We hear about the second coming of Jesus and it may tend to sound a little scary. There will be a thousand years of peace and harmony, but only after a thousand year tribulation. There will be earthquakes and wars and famine, and a great beast will rise. The stars will fall and the heavens will be shaken, and Jesus is going to come down clouds in glory with angels around him and one person will be taken up and another will be left.

Ok, so that doesn’t sound overly wonderful to me, but remember, these are descriptions of something the likes of which have never been seen before. The second coming of Jesus is something totally new and yet Jesus is the one who will be coming. The same Jesus who was here the first time, the same Jesus who was the embodiment of all the ways God had been with the people of Israel before is the same Jesus who will be coming again. So the second coming is something totally new and something very familiar. Of course there is going to be some fear and trembling, there is anytime God shows up, but it’s God who is showing up, not some scary killer demon thing.

At God’s coming, the wilderness and the dry land will be glad and break forth with joy and singing. The people were told, “be strong, fear not!” at God’s coming. So wait with patience the coming of the Lord. Wait with joy, and excitement, and gladness. Be strong, fear not, for the same Lord who came before is the Lord who will come again. The Lord’s coming will be something new, but it will also be something very familiar. Amen.

Love, Forgiveness, & Invitation Woven Into Creation

Brad Sullivan

Proper 29, Year C
Christ the King
Sunday, November 21st, 2010
Emmanuel, Houston
Jeremiah 23:1-6
Canticle 16
Colossians 1:11-20
Luke 23:33-43

We’re celebrating today Christ the King Sunday, thinking about the Kingdom of God and Jesus as king over everyone and everything. So, I could talk today about Jesus being king of the Jews as the inscription read above his cross. I could talk about him fulfilling the passage from Jeremiah, being the king of David’s line who is also the righteousness of God. I could proof text those passages to make the case that Jesus really is the king of us, and the Jews, and everyone else, but I’m not gonna do that. It would be boring, it would be legalistic, it would be informative, but I don’t think anyone woke up this morning hoping to get a lecture on Jesus’ royal credentials.

Thinking of the kingdom of God makes me think of first grade, walking under the breezeway awning on the way to gym class. It was around this time of year, maybe a little earlier, and being Houston, it hadn’t exactly gotten cold yet. I always looked forward the cold weather. It meant time to snuggle up with mom and dad by the fire place (sometimes we had to turn the A.C. down to do it), but snuggle up to mom and dad nonetheless, and winter-time meant Thanksgiving and Christmas-time, and a break from school. Everything about winter seemed fresh and new and exciting and loving, and my wife, growing up in Philadelphia might disagree; winter probably just meant really, really cold, but for me winter was kind of a magic time of year.

So on a particular day in first grade, I as walking towards gym class, and the first winter breeze of the year came by. I don’t know that winter had actually happened yet. I don’t think it even got any colder with that breeze. It was probably about 65 or 70 degrees, but there was a crispness to the air. It sounded like cold air blowing through cold trees, and that crisp sounding first winter breeze carried with it me the reminder and the promise of all of the beauty and newness and love of winter.

I’d love to say that every year since that year I’ve waited with anticipation for the first winter breeze of the year. But honestly, I sometimes forget, and yet every year, without fail, I have heard the fist winter breeze of the year, and every year, without faith, that breeze has brought with it the promise of renewal and love and the deep knowledge that all is well and all is right in the world.

Now, I realize that not all is right with the world. There’s a lot that’s wrong with the world, but for the few moments of that first winter breeze, all is right, and all is well. That first winter breeze is for me the Kingdom of God breaking through and inviting me in to share in the kingdom life, and it’s inviting me to share in the kingdom life right then in that moment and in every other moment of my life.

Paul wrote in his letter to the Colossians that “[God] has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son…” Notice we’re not waiting to be transferred into God’s kingdom at some future date after our Jesus bond matures. We’re in the kingdom of God right here and now. Jesus told his disciples “the kingdom of God is among and within you.”

Sometimes we know it doesn’t feel that way. Life’s not perfect…yet. There is still darkness in the world and in our lives. Paul didn’t say the darkness is completely eradicated, but that God has rescued us from the power of darkness. We don’t have to be held captive by darkness. When we’re caught up in dark thoughts or dark actions, we don’t have to remain bound by the darkness. When we have enmity towards others and are at odds with one another, we don’t have to stay that way. When we feel weighed down our lives or the world, we don’t have to remain weighed down, because God is with us to dwell with us to strengthen us so that we might, as Paul says, “endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father who has enabled us [or invited us] to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light.” God has rescued us from the power of darkness and continually invites us to live lives of love and joy in the kingdom of God.

So what is this kingdom of God? What is it like? In short, the kingdom of God is like its king. Paul says that “in [Jesus], all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible…all things have been created through him and for him. If all things were created in and through and for Jesus, then the character and qualities and nature of Jesus were woven into the fabric of creation.

What Gospel do I live?

Brad Sullivan

Proper 26, Year C
Sunday, October 31st, 2010
Emmanuel, Houston
Isaiah 1:10-18
Psalm 32:1-8
Romans 16
Luke 19:1-10

Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow. Come now, let us argue it out, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.

I love this passage from Isaiah, and the many similar passages throughout scripture. “Y’all are being really, really religious,” God says, “but you’re also being pretty rotten to one another; if you really my blessing in your life, then you need to go out and bless others.” Isaiah’s message sounds both harsh and full of hope and promise. God was angry with the people’s missdeeds, and he deeply wanted them to turn around and was more than ready to bless them once they did. Through Isaiah, God was seeking to save the lost.

That sounds a lot like what Jesus said about Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus was basically the passage of Isaiah lived out in story form in one person’s life. To be fair, there’s a lot we don’t know about Zacchaeus. We don’t know if he did follow any of the religious practices of Israel, but we do know he was cheating people out of their money. As a chief tax collector, of a corrupt tax system, he was collecting more than he was supposed to and pocketing the extra. He was doing evil, was unjust, taking from the oppressed, the orphan, and the widow, and everyone else. Then, somehow he heard about Jesus. We don’t know how, but he went into the crowd that day and climbed the tree in order to see who Jesus was, so he had apparently heard something about him.

So then he meets Jesus, and here again, we don’t really know what happened. It’s not entirely clear if they went on to Zacchaeus’ house and had a little chat about the words of Isaiah or if this encounter took place right there before Jesus said much of anything. What is clear, however, is that Zacchaeus met Jesus and was transformed by him.

Zacchaeus had previously defrauded people…perhaps he was caught up in “me, me”, thinking that the way to be secure and well in life was to get lots of money, building up security for himself at the expense of others. When he encountered Jesus, however, he found that his money was not what he really wanted. He gave over half of it away immediately. He had found something far greater in which to put his trust, his security, and his faith, than himself and his money.

Is God's love enough?

Brad Sullivan

Proper 22, Year C
Sunday, October 3rd, 2010
Emmanuel, Houston
Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4
Psalm 37:1-10
2 Timothy 1:1-14
Luke 17:5-10

“Increase our faith,” the apostles say. That seems like a pretty good thing to say. They kinda commanded rather than asked for it, but we’re supposed to be people of faith, so “increase our faith,” sounds pretty good to me, and then Jesus replies “You don’t need more faith. You can do plenty with what you’ve got.” I think that’s basically the message Jesus was giving the apostles when he told them about faith size of a mustard seed. That seems rather a rather odd exchange. “Lord, we want more faith.” “No, you’re not going to get it.”

Well, just before the disciples asked for more faith, Jesus was telling them to be on guard. He was reminding them that it is very easy to stumble in our walk with God, and that it is easy to cause others to stumble. He taught them that they should forgive others, and in response, the disciples asked for more faith. It’s as if they were saying, “Um, we don’t think we can pull this off with what you’ve given us Lord. We need some more.”

So Jesus tells them, “No. You’re not getting more faith. You’ve got plenty. Go out there and use it. Don’t be afraid. Remain faithful with the faith you’ve got, and you’ll move mountains.” Paul said as much in his letter to Timothy. “…God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline. Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us.” (2 Timothy 1:14) Jesus didn’t say, “go off by yourself, I’m leaving you, and I won’t be with you.” Jesus said, “go, I will be with you, and be not afraid, for the faith you have is sufficient.”

But what about when we do remain faithful with the faith we’ve got? Might we get a little prideful and feel deserving of reward because we remain faithful? Jesus certainly seems to think we will. What does Jesus tell his disciples as soon as he tells them they already have all the faith they need? He tells them, “don’t remain faithful for the sake of some reward.” He tells the story of a slave or a servant coming in from work and expecting to be waited on hand and foot by the master of the house. That certainly sounds nice. That even sounds like the kingdom of God in which the master becomes the servant. Jesus taught as much when he washed the disciples’ feet, but that’s not the lesson he’s teaching here.

Using the social structure and norms present at the time, Jesus was warning the apostles against expecting or even demanding some great reward for having remained faithful to God. Think of the story of the Prodigal Son. The prodigal son returns, they throw a party, and the brother is bothered, feeling like he was entitled to a party as well. What does the father say? “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” What is he saying but, “you have been with me and loved me and I have loved you all these years. Isn’t that enough.” The father is telling the son, “I thought you were remaining here with me because you love me, not because you wanted a party. You’ve been the recipient of my love all these years, and that is the greatest gift I can give you.”

The apostles were being asked to remain faithful to God and to let God’s love be enough for them. That doesn’t fit too well in our economy of exchange that we have here in the world. We provide goods and services for some kind of reward…money, food shelter. I do this for you, and you do this for me. That makes sense. That’s fair.

God’s economy doesn’t seem to be an economy of exchange, and economy of commerce. God’s economy seems more to be one of household. In households, by and large, we do things for one another out of love, not in order to manipulate a situation and get something for myself. In economies of exchange, we may remain faithful to the same company for 30-40 years partly because we like the company, but we’re also probably expecting some kind of pension at the end of it. Maybe not anymore, but there was a time when that happened.

In households, we remain faithful to one another simply out of love for one another. Can you imagine a 40 or 50 year old saying, “Well, Mom, Dad, I’ve been a part of this family for 50 years now, and I’m ready to call it quits, retire from the family so I’ve put together a little portfolio here, a little retirement from the family package; let’s see what we can work out.”

Looking at this on the other end of the age range, I think of children being given gifts for good behavior or for good grades. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with parents giving their children gifts, but we run into a problem when parents give their children gifts because they deserve them. “My kid made good grades, and so he deserves some great gift,” or “my kid is respectful of me and other adults, and so he deserves some great gift.” Making good grades, being respectful of adults, these are not things that are deserving of gifts. They are simply what we’re supposed to be doing.