From college and campus ministry, through seminary, and into parish ministry, I became increasingly aware of the damage done by some theologies within the church: specifically, the "Believe in Jesus or to go Hell" theologies. Knowing people who turned away from the church and from God because they'd been lambasted by such theologies, I decided to address those beliefs head on and look deeply at scripture, rather than simply ignore the tricky passages.
My goal was and is to bring healing to folks who have been harmed by those older, even foundational theologies, and to help free people from those theologies - people who don't believe in "believe in Jesus or go to Hell", but also don't know how they can't believe in them without ignoring much of scripture.
May you find peace and healing in the pages of this book, and may you help bring that healing to others.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Lord of the Streets, Houston October 19, 2025 Proper 24, C Genesis 32:22-31 Psalm 121 Luke 18:1-8
We have an adorable, 30-pound, terrier-pinscher, mutt-thing of a dog named Thor at home. He is sweet as he can be, a little neurotic, and dumb as a stump, by which I mean he’s actually not that dumb; he just has a mind of his own and doesn’t necessarily do what we want him to do all the time. Take eating, for example. We’ll put the food in his bowl, and if he’s not really ready to eat, it’ll make no never mind to him that our other dog, River, will eat all of his food, followed by all of hers.
He knows he won’t get more food, so if he’s really hungry, he’ll stop her, otherwise, he doesn’t much seem to care that we want him to eat. He’ll just do without.
When it comes to eating our food, however, he is always hungry. The fact that he rarely ever gets our food doesn’t stop him from staring up at us, not whining, not being a pest, just staring, waiting, full-on expectant, loving puppy dog eyes.
Not our daughter, but still Thor begging food.
He did this with our daughter just the other day, following her around the house for five minutes as she went from room to room, eating her breakfast sandwich. We all watched, along with our daughter, chuckling, and eventually, he wore her down. She gave him a bit of cheesy, eggy biscuit, and he trotted off, happy as a dog with a bone…or bacon.
Thor does this all the time, and he knows that most of the time, he’s getting nothing, but he still tries. He tries because maybe not today, maybe not this week, but eventually, his persistence will pay off, and he’ll get some bit of the people food that he dearly loves.
So, regarding Jesus’ lesson, teaching us to pray always and not lose heart, my family is like the unjust judge, and our dog, Thor, is like the widow, wearing us down by his persistence. Would that we all had the same persistence in faith and prayer as that little dog has in getting people food, and yes, I realize I just compared all of us to dogs begging for food. Oops.
Of course, so did Jesus and the Gentile woman who asked Jesus to heal her daughter. So, lesson learned? Call yourself a dog, and Jesus will give you whatever you want? Maybe not?
Faithfulness is what’s really going on: keeping at our faith even when we’re really tired of waiting, keeping at prayer and living the ways of Jesus. That’s what Jesus taught the disciples, “to pray always and not lose heart.”
So, how’s this prayer sound? “Damnit, God. How long will you ignore me? How long will this crap keep going on? How long are you going to do nothing?”
Sounds a bit cheeky. Maybe a little heretical for a prayer, but it’s not. It’s really just a more modern, angsty teenager version of Psalm 13. “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me for ever? How long will you hide your face from me? Look upon me and answer me, O LORD my God” (Psalm 13:1, 3a)
Damnit, God. How long will you ignore me? How long will this crap keep going on? How long are you going to do nothing?
“Pray always, and do not lose heart,” Jesus said. Now, sometimes you can’t help losing heart. That’s part of what prayer is for, to offer ourselves to God in those times when we have lost heart. The challenge is to keep praying through losing heart. Keep praying while you lose heart.
Jesus’ advice is to keep praying that “How long, O Lord?”, prayer. It’s an honest prayer. So, keep praying that prayer until it changes from “How long, O Lord?” to “Thank you.” That’s what happens in Psalm 13. The prayer changes from angsty teenager, “How long, O Lord?”, to “Thank you, Lord.” That change may take a while. It may take a long while. The change from “How long?”, to “Thank you,” may take a lifetime or many lifetimes.
There were times for the people of Israel when it was generations before the prayer changed. Looking at life here in the United States, civil rights and equal rights for all people has been a struggle for generations. The “How long?”, has in many ways been changed to “Thank you,” and yet there are many ways we are still praying, “How long, O Lord?”
The change may take generations and longer, and so Jesus asks, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
What do we do while we are persistently praying and waiting? Our behavior has a lot to do with the answer to Jesus’ question. “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
Will Jesus find us waiting patiently, prayerfully, and faithfully? Will Jesus find us living his teachings as we wait? That’s a question not only about our faith and faithfulness, but also the faith and faithfulness we may inspire in others.
See, regardless of how much we pray or what we pray, what people see us doing is what they’re going to believe about Jesus. Truth be told, regardless of what we pray or how much we pray, what we do tends to show us where our faith really lies.
In Bible study last week, we were talking about the ways of Jesus: forgiveness, choosing non-violence, etc. “That’s crazy,” one person replied. “In here, in the church,” he said, “it’s easy to talk about forgiveness and non-violence. Outside when you’ve got people coming at you all the time, it’s not so easy. It seems crazy to follow Jesus’ teachings out there.”
Well, yeah. As Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 1:18, the Gospel does seem foolish, and yet it is the power of God. The ways of the streets are, be stronger, be tougher, be mean so you can survive, and it’s hard as hell not to be, and yet, that’s the way of the world. Are we going to put our trust in the ways of the world, or are we going to put our trust in the ways of Jesus?
Non-violence seems crazy. Fair enough. Non-violence in the face of injustice seems crazy, and yet it was non-violence that brought about the greatest change in the Civil Rights Movement. Looking at today, street protests seeking justice are good, until they get violent. Once violence starts, the people seeking justice are seen as villains, and so the justice they seek is seen as injustice.
When a group of people cries out, “How long, O Lord?”, but also engages in crime and drugs, fighting and hurting other, how could that people expect that God should grant justice? The crime and violence delay any justice that could come, because the people who might have grant justice no longer will. They no longer see people in need of justice, but simply criminals in need of punishment.
Crying for justice doesn’t work if we do not also follow the ways and teachings of Jesus. “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
Where will Jesus find that our faith lies? What will our actions show about where our faith lies? How long are we willing to wait and be persistent in prayer to bring about the justice and peace we desire? How long are we willing to trust in the ways and teachings of Jesus as we wait for justice and peace?
Are we willing to live the prayer and teachings of Jesus for generations as we wait for justice to come? Are we willing to be faithful over generations so our children and grandchildren can live the fruits of our faithfulness?
If not, our children and grandchildren will live the fruits of our faithlessness and violence. We will hand them the same injustice and violence that we suffer.
If we are faithful, however, if we continue in prayer, if we risk enough to follow the ways and teachings of Jesus, then our prayer will turn from “How long, O Lord?”, to “Thank you, Lord.” It may not be today. It may not be this year. It may not even be this lifetime, but the prayer will change. Justice will come. Even if it takes generations. If we are faithful in prayer and in action, if we follow the ways and teachings of Jesus, the prayer will change from “How long?”, to “Thank you.”
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Lord of the Streets, Houston October 12, 2025 Proper 23, C 2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15c Psalm 111 Luke 17:11-19
Have you ever noticed how much we tend to take things for granted? We tend to get bored with things pretty quickly, and even with really great things in our lives, we often end up desiring something better or something more. We get so accustomed to the blessings in our lives that we no longer notice them. We no longer give thanks for them. We end up taking our blessings for granted, giving no more notice of them than our belly buttons, or our left pinky toe, or one random arm hair.
When we stop noticing our blessings and stop giving thanks for them, they kind of fade for us, like the sun on a cold and rainy day. It’s still there, but we can’t see it, can’t feel it’s warmth on our skin. When we stop noticing our blessings, they are still there, but we can no longer feel the warmth and healing of them in our hearts. Taking things for granted leaves us decaying on the inside. Faith, hope, and love dim as we take things for granted. The antidote for that, the bright light to shine in our hearts and revive our faith, hope, and love, is gratitude.
Jesus healed ten people in the story we heard today. All ten of them had leprosy, a terrible and contagious skin condition, so they were no longer allowed to be near other people. They were quarantined away from others and had to shout when others came near, warning them to stay away.
So, when these ten were healed of their leprosy, you’d think they would all have been so excited and grateful that they’d run back to Jesus and thank him, giving praise to God, but as we heard, that didn’t happen. Only one of the ten came back glorifying God and giving thanks to Jesus.
Did the others take their healing for granted? Probably not. I imagine they were pretty darn happy, and they definitely were going to show themselves to the priests because the priests were in charge of ending their quarantine, but they didn’t go back and give thanks to the one who healed them. Maybe they just didn’t realize Jesus had healed them? After all, the healing happened when they were on their way to the priests, Jesus didn’t really do anything like wave his arms or touch them. Maybe they didn’t notice that he was the reason they were healed?
No one’s that thick, right? Well, yeah, maybe they were.
How often do we not see blessings in front of us? How often do we stress, fret, and get upset about problems, when there are good things around us if we would simply notice them? How often might we be healed if we simply noticed and gave thanks for the blessings in our lives, rather than taking the good things for granted.
In our reading from 2 Kings, Naaman seemed to take for granted that he should be healed. If there was a great healer, he should be healed by him, personally. Naaman was a big deal, and he should have been given the utmost respect and honor, he felt. So, when the prophet Elisha sent an underling to tell Naaman, to go bathe in the river, Naaman was pissed. “Doesn’t this prophet, healer guy know who I am, how important I am?”
Naaman’s pride got knocked down a few pegs, didn’t it, and because of that, he was no longer taking everything for granted. Naaman was no longer assuming everything should be owed to him, and so he became grateful for his healing, rather than take it for granted.
Taking the blessings in our lives for granted, rather than being grateful for them leaves us cold and in darkness. Gratitude, on the other hand, heals us, saves us, as surely as the physical healing touch of Jesus.
Giving thanks, rather than expecting more, that’s part of faith, part of a faithful life with God. We see this truth played out in Adam and Eve’s unfaithfulness to God.
Adam and Eve weren’t grateful for what they had. They took it all for granted and wanted more. “Thanks so much, God, this garden is absolutely wonderful. All of the trees, fruit, animals, top notch work on your part, God, and looking at each other, whoo, nice. So, truly, thanks a bunch, but we’re not really satisfied. Seen this, done that, so we’re just going to go ahead and take that thing you said not to.
Lack of gratitude from Adam and Eve, and suddenly all the beauty and wonder of everything around that was so good suddenly seemed grey, drab, leeching sorrow rather than bringing joy. “Yeah, it’s good, they thought, but it’s not good enough. We deserve better.
Imagine being in paradise with your ideal, perfect companion. You don’t have to work because the ground just makes food for you. You get to just enjoy life, walking with God and one another, truly not a care in the world.
Can you imagine ever saying, “Yeah, but what more is there? This isn’t enough?”
Yeah, me too. Given enough time, we tend to always find what’s lacking, what’s not good enough. Even given paradise, we’ll find a way to say, “Yeah, but it could be better.”
Every time we do, we end up shutting ourselves off to the blessings we have, longing for some imagined blessing that we don’t have, certain that life would be ok if only we had that imagined whatever.
The better woman or man to be with. I can’t accept this one’s faults and flaws anymore. They’re still fine, but I deserve better. I just found out something about them I don’t like that much, so I’m moving on. If there is a way to take a blessing for granted, we’re probably going to find it.
That’s why we need Jesus. That’s why God became one of us as Jesus. We start taking blessings for granted, and God is a part of us, guiding us back. By God becoming human, Jesus is in and through all of us, each one of us, so we can strive together and build each other up in gratitude. We can help one another notice our blessings.
Now, this doesn’t mean we don’t get to be sad. Of course we get to be sad. There’s some really terrible stuff in the world. If we aren’t saddened by the horrors around us, well, then we have blinders on just as much as if we ignore our blessings.
Choosing gratitude as a way of life does not deny pain and sorrow, but choosing gratitude does help us heal from pain and sorrow. The Gospel is ultimately all about our healing. So, a question is, do we take the Gospel for granted? Do we take the union with God and one another that has been given to us for granted? Do we take God’s forgiveness of us for granted? Do we, therefore, no longer notice the Gospel? Do we no longer notice God’s grace? Do we live lives without gratitude?
Of course we do. Like Naaman, like Jesus’ disciples, like the nine people Jesus healed, we all, at times, live without gratitude. We all stop noticing the blessings in our lives, sometimes something as simple and ordinary as the air in our lungs. So, we are reminded to notice. Look for and notice the blessings in our lives. When some blessing happens in our lives, give thanks to God from whom all blessing flow.
That’s faith, choosing to notice the beauty and joy of life. Choosing to give thanks, sometimes even when the rainclouds gather and we can no longer see the sun or feel its warmth on our skin, we give thanks anyway, trusting that the blessing is still there. As we give thanks and choose gratitude as a way of life, then faith, hope, and love spring forth again in our hearts, and we find new and healed life once again.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Lord of the Streets, Houston October 5, 2025 Proper 23, C Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4 Psalm 37:1-10 Luke 17:5-10
“Increase our faith,” the disciples commanded Jesus, and Jesus said, “No.” Strange, huh? How often was God pleading with the Israelites to have more faith? How often did Jesus say things like, “Do not doubt, but believe”? You’d think of all things that they would ask for, faith is one that Jesus would say, “Sure, man, more faith, deeper faith, all the faith you want, you got it!” That’s not what happened, though. He told them, “no.”
What Jesus was really telling his disciples was, “You don’t need more faith. You just need to do well and trust with the faith you’ve got.”
That’s how the disciples had chosen to live, trusting Jesus and living as though his teachings really were the best way of life for them…until Jesus said ‘forgive people, like, a lot.’ That’s what Jesus had taught them just before they said, “Give us more faith!”
These are the same folks who had been healing people and casting out demons in Jesus’ name. Jesus told them to go do that, and they were so excited. They didn’t cower down and say they weren’t ready or not strong enough in faith. They went out boldly, healed the sick, and cast out demons like Buffy the Vampire Slayer on speed. They came back and were swapping stories, so excited.
Then, weeks or months later, Jesus taught them to forgive people who wronged them, not just once or twice, but over and over. Forgive people, Jesus taught, a lot, because people are kinda messed up, and they keep messing up, and as often as they do and then turn around and try to make things right, Jesus taught to forgive. Over, and over, and over, forgive people.
Suddenly the disciples were saying, “Forgiveness, eh, eh, are your sure about that one, Jesus? Yeah, maybe I don’t trust you that much after all, but thanks a ton. It’s been great, loved casting out demons, don’t think I have enough faith in me for forgiveness, though.”
So, Jesus told them, no. You’re not getting more faith. You’re not getting more belief. What you have is enough. He told them that if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can say to a tree, “Hey Tree, go throw yourself into a lake,” and the tree would pull its own roots out of the ground, walk over to the lake, and throw itself in.
Now, I don’t think Jesus meant that we would or could actually do this. As a kid, I wondered, “Why can’t I make a tree throw itself into a lake? I guess my faith isn’t good enough?” I don’t know, maybe I only had a half a mustard seed or just a poppy seed of faith.
No, Jesus doesn’t mean that we’re failures in faith if we can’t actually make a tree walk to its death in a lake. Jesus was using this kinda weird image to illustrate the point that his disciples didn’t need more faith to forgive people as he was teaching. Whatever small amount of faith they had was sufficient. What they needed was faithfulness.
What they needed was to trust Jesus and be faithful to what he taught. Then, their faith would grow. Like not by faith alone, but also by faithfulness. That’s what we heard in Habakkuk. The righteous live by their faith, or really by their faithfulness.
The disciples thought they didn’t have enough faith. Perhaps they doubted and so thought they couldn’t be faithful because of their doubt.
The opposite of faith, however, is not doubt. Jesus talked about faith the size of a mustard seed. That ain’t a lot of faith, which means you’re going to have doubt. In fact, you can’t have faith without doubt. Doubt goes hand in hand with faith, and we wrestle with it.
Mother Theresa, for example, was hugely faithful to God’s calling on her to care for orphaned children in Calcutta, India. She devoted her whole life to those children, and throughout her life she had faith and struggled with deep doubt. She wrestled with it, and Jesus didn’t grant her more faith. The faith she had was sufficient, and she remained faithful with even that small amount of faith.
So no, the opposite of faith is not doubt. The opposite of faith is certainty. I don’t need faith to know that two plus two equals four. I need faith to believe that the people in my life who love me actually love me. I mean, I’m pretty sure they do, but I can’t read their minds. I trust them. Love is based on trust, on faith, and faith requires humility enough to admit that I don’t know everything, and I’m going to trust anyway.
Through my wrestling with faith and doubt, I too wanted more faith, until I realized that what I really wanted was certainty. I’d so often heard people talk about their faith as certainty. Pastors would say they know their faith is true beyond any doubt, and I could never get there. I finally realized that I could never know with certainty, but I also realized I love God becoming human and joining with us physically in every part of our lives, and I love it so much that I choose to believe it. I still don’t know. I still have doubt, and I choose to believe anyway.
I admitted this to a group of pastors during a Bible study one day, and there was stony silence in the room. Finally, one of them said, “Well yeah, I have doubts just like you’re talking about, but I’d never admit that to my congregation.” There was agreement throughout the room by the rest of the pastors who all wrestled with doubts but who put on a show of having certainty in their faith.
That means that those pastors were all lying to their congregations. They would never admit having doubts. They were pretending to have certainty that they didn’t have, and they were leading their people to think that they had to have certainty too. That means that these pastors were inadvertently leading their people away from the humility of faith and toward the pride of certainty.
Certainty says, I must be right. I am so certain that I am right, that I won’t even question it. You disagree with me. You, therefore, are not only wrong, but terribly, stupidly, sinfully wrong.
The pride of certainty is not faith. That sound like how a lot of religious and political discourse goes nowadays? Behind certainty is the sin of pride. I am right. I know better. I am so important. I can put myself in God’s place. God said not to eat this fruit in the Garden of Eden, but I know better. I will do it anyway and place myself above God.
Jesus said have faith the size of a mustard seed. Well, I’m going to do better than that. I’m going to have huge faith, certainty with no doubts. There’s pride there. Something is hard to believe or do, so I’ll go with certainty, rather than faith, and I’ll make sure that anyone who disagrees gets put in their place because despite what Jesus said, faith isn’t enough for me. I need certainty.
No you don’t, Jesus said. Just have a little bit of faith, and follow that faith up with faithfulness. Trust in my ways, Jesus taught us, even when you’re not sure. Set yourself aside and trust in Jesus’ ways and teachings as we walk this life together. When I don’t think forgiveness is right, ‘cause it sure doesn’t feel right, I’m going to assume I don’t know everything. I’m going to trust in Jesus instead.
Faith is humble enough to believe in something, knowing that you’re not sure, and even not being sure, choosing to give yourself over to this belief. Faith says, I will give my heart to this belief. I will choose to live as though this faith is true. I will choose to live as though the teachings of Jesus really are the best way of life for me. I will let go of the certainty of self and humbly accept this little amount of faith, and follow where it leads.
The Rev. Brad Sullivan Lord of the Streets, Houston September 28, 2025 Proper 21, C 1 Timothy 6:6-19 Psalm 143 Luke 16:19-31
Good morning, y’all. As I said earlier in our service, today we are celebrating Recovery Sunday. The Episcopal Church has a practice to celebrate recovery from addiction, to celebrate the healing and work of those in recovery, and to normalize addiction as something from which many people suffer and to normalize recovery as something to be celebrated and brought to people’s awareness.
Recovery is about healing, about turning from one way of life and seeking help from others and often from God, and finding a new way of life, freed from the bondage of addiction. One important thing to note is that recovery is not the Gospel. One needs not be a Christian to recover from addiction. At the same time, the Gospel is all about healing and recovery. Whether addiction, trauma, heartache, death of a loved one, or even death of one’s dreams, everyone is recovering from something, including the people we heard about in our Gospel lesson from today.
In Luke 16, Jesus told a story of an unnamed rich man and a beggar named Lazarus. The fact that the beggar, Lazarus, was named and the rich man wasn’t named, tells us what Jesus thought of the two characters in his story. Lazarus, the beggar, Jesus seemed pretty fond of him. The rich man, not so much, because the rich man ignored Lazarus. This guy had more wealth than he needed for multiple lifetimes, and instead of using that wealth to benefit others, he used his wealth only to benefit himself, leaving Lazarus to die in the gutter.
Jesus was very clear that those who are rich and who are indifferent to the needs and suffering of others are not going to do well with God. In fact those who are rich and who are indifferent to the needs and suffering of others look to be in for a world of hurt in regard to God’s judgement.
So, what does this have to do with recovery? Well, there are two people in this story who needed recovery. One, obviously, was Lazarus, who needed recovery from whatever ailment had left him begging in the street. The other one who needed recovery was the rich man.
The rich man was addicted to feeling good. He had his wealth, and he used it only for himself. He used his wealth only to feel good, and through constantly trying to feel good, he ended up in torment.
That’s a story of addiction. Whatever the addiction is, the thing that makes us feel good ends up being an instrument of torment.
Addicts are often trying to run the show, trying to be ok, trying to feel safe and secure in the world around them, and addicts tend to be mighty pissed when everything and everyone aren’t doing what they think they should.
Wasn’t that like the rich man, wanting the world and everyone in it to bend to his will? Even at rock bottom, being tormented in Hades, he was still trying to run the show.
Hey Abraham, you know Lazarus, that dude who used to beg outside my house, have him come bring me some water. What do you mean “no”? I’m really thirsty. Come one Abraham. Ugh, fine! At least send him to warn my brothers not to be quite as selfish, miserable schlubs as I was. What do you mean, “No”? Have him do what I want.
Yeah, even being tormented in Hades, the rich man still thought he should be in charge. He was still trying to run the whole show. That’s an addict’s way, trying to run the show and then using whatever they’re addicted to, to feel better, to drown resentments, to just shut everything out and not give a crap for a while.
Now, I hate to compare the rich schlub in Jesus’ story to all addicts because addicts are in need of healing and recovery. Please don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m not saying “addicts will end up tormented in Hades after they die.” Folks who suffer from addiction are in need of healing and recovery, and regarding being tormented in Hades, when we’re in the depths of addiction, we’re already being tormented in Hades.
I compare that rich schlub in Jesus’ story to addicts because even he was in need of healing and recovery. If he had been a healed and healthy person, he wouldn’t have been such a selfish, miserable schlub. If he was a healed and healthy person, he would have been glad to share what he had with Lazarus and help heal him as well. Everyone needs healing. Everyone is recovering from something.
It's easy to have contempt on the rich man, and in some ways, I think we’re supposed to. We’re supposed to recognize that a life of selfishness and self-seeking is not the life God has in mind for us.
Our challenge is to look at the rich man and not tell ourselves, “I must be doing just fine, ‘cause I’m not a rich selfish schlub like that guy.” We don’t need to be rich to be selfish and self-seeking. We don’t need to be the guy in Jesus’ story to need healing and recovery.
If the rich man had recovered from whatever was keeping him so selfish, that could have led to Lazarus’ recovery as well. Recovery leads to and is a part of repentance. Recovery leads to and is a part of turning our lives around so that we are decidedly less selfish and self-seeking, and that leads to a life of service. Had the rich man recovered, he would have begun living a life of service, and he would have healed and helped Lazarus recover.
Addiction, and the resentment, selfishness, and self-seeking that feeds addiction leads us to being alone. Addiction has thousands of forms; it doesn’t need to be alcohol, drugs, sex, gambling, or any other named, identified addictions. Our phones and social media are addictions for a lot of us. TV before that. Whatever we use to feel better that ends up isolating us from others can be an addiction, and addiction, and the desire just to be less miserable, leads us to being alone. Recovery leads us to a life of communion and love with others.
All of our sins, the ways we harm one another and harm ourselves, lead us to being alone. The Gospel, the reconciliation of Jesus, leads us to a life of communion and love with others.
We’re all in need of recovery. We’re all in need of communion and love with others. Recovery can come through 12-Step or other recovery programs. Recovery can come through the way of the Gospel of Jesus, and like the way of Jesus, recovery is not done alone. Recovery is done with community.
So, whatever path we choose, I invite us all to follow a way of recovery. Follow a way from torment to a way of life and peace. Follow a way from selfishness and self-centeredness to a way of love and service to others. Follow a way from isolation and fear to a way of communion and love.
