Showing posts with label Contempt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Contempt. Show all posts

Who Knew God Was So Snarky? (Compassion, rather than Contempt)

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
September 20, 2026
Proper 20, A
Jonah 3:10-4:11
Psalm 145:1-8
Matthew 20:1-16

Jonah had nothing but the utmost contempt for the people of Nineveh. They weren’t Jewish. They didn’t follow God’s laws. They seemed to be really rotten people. So, when Jonah was told by God to go and prophesy to the people of Nineveh to get them to repent, to change their ways, Jonah flat out said, “no.” 

That’s a pretty ballsy move. I mean, we all say “no” to God a lot, but we’re largely saying no to teachings from the words of scripture. We’re saying no to words that were spoken and written thousands of years ago. I’m not excusing that, but Jonah had God speaking directly to him, and he still said “no” because he had so much contempt for the people of Nineveh. He just wanted to God kill them, but he knew God was merciful, and he knew that if he prophesied to the people of Nineveh that they would repent and God wouldn’t kill them, so he just said no and went somewhere else to force God to kill the people of Nineveh. 

Jonah’s contempt. God’s compassion. 

Kill them all; I don’t like them. 

Eh, they’re human beings; let’s try to help them out.

Contempt. Compassion. 

Jonah’s not the only one to have contempt for others and say no to God. We all do. Bless those who curse you. Forgive your enemies. Love your enemies. I mean, Jesus said those things, sure, but he probably didn’t really mean it all the time. Maybe the writers just got it wrong. Maybe I’ll just wait to forgive them till God sends them to hell. 

In all these and countless other ways, we are all like Jonah, with contempt for others, running away from what God told us because we’d really rather have God just punish those people. 

The thing is, God still might, and he taught us to forgive. Bless, forgive, and pray for your enemies, and it will be like pouring burning coals upon their heads. Ok, this I can get behind. Follow God’s command for forgiveness and still they get bushwhacked. 

Yeah, that’s not quite the heart God calls us to have either. Rather, God calls us to have a heart that cares for and even breaks for our enemies.

God taught Jonah this lesson with the tree God made to give Jonah some shade and then killed the next day. Jonah was so upset about the tree, and God understood, “Dude, I get it man. You’re so sad about the tree that you didn’t make and didn’t love that just gave you a little shade, so maybe you get that I’d be sad about the destruction of a whole city of people whom I did make and do love? You get that, Jonah, you little dufus?”

Who knew God was so snarky, right? 

Hey Jonah, try to get your heart to break for the people of Nineveh just like it did for that tree. The healing nature of compassion, rather than the destructive nature of contempt.

We see this same lesson of contempt over compassion in the story Jesus told of the laborers in the vineyard. See, the laborers who worked all day had contempt on those who only worked a few hours and got paid the same. Never mind that what they got paid wasn’t getting any of them rich. They were getting paid what they needed to survive, not minimum wage, which is crap, but a living wage. They had what they needed.

So, they laborers who worked all day knew that if the ones who only worked a couple hours only got paid for a couple hours work, they wouldn’t have enough to live on. If they had only been paid for a couple hours work, they would eventually starve, and the laborers who worked all day seemed ok with that. Once they knew they were getting paid the same, they had contempt on the laborers who were only able to work a few hours. 

“Who cares if they’re gonna die? They don’t deserve what I got.” That’s the destructive nature of contempt. They had contempt for the other laborers; they had contempt for the landowner, just like Jonah had contempt for the people of Nineveh and for God. The laborers didn’t make the vineyard, they didn’t own the land, and yet they were contemptuous of the landowner for his generosity. “I don’t want you to be generous or have compassion. I want those other workers to die rather than get the same as I have.”

The destruction of contempt, rather than the healing of compassion.

Imagine if these laborers knew they were all going to get paid a full day’s wage working for this guy. Contempt would have made them all say, “No one get there to the end of the day and he’ll still pay us all for a full day.” I bet the landowner would have caught wise on that one, but what if the workers had said, “Ok, we’re all going to get paid a full day’s wage, so how about we rotate? Some of us work a full day one week, then others work the full day the next week.”

See, if they had compassion on one another and cared about each other’s’ wellbeing, not just their own, they could have worked together so everyone could have done well. 

Compassion, rather than contempt.

Now, looking at Jesus’ parable, the landowner having compassion, making sure all the workers had enough, rather than the bare minimum not to actually get by, I wish I was preaching this to billionaires and CEOs. However, the lesson of compassion, rather than contempt, is still a lesson for all of us, and like with Jonah and the laborers who worked all day, compassion rather than contempt is not easy lesson to learn. 

I mean, it sounds great and all, and I figure most of us want to live with compassion, but I can think of 4 times in the last week alone that I’ve felt and acted contemptuously toward someone, and that’s just the real people that I interacted with. If we include billionaires and politicians and what not, my contempt is up to like 17 times a day, or an hour? In two of the real life cases, I was able check back with the person, make amends, and tell them I was wrong. Two of the cases, I may not ever be able to. 

In each of these, I will say that I did move from contempt towards compassion. That’s a step in the right direction. We’re not gonna get it right all the time. That’s why God sometimes sends a whale, like he did with Jonah, to swallow us up and take us where he wants us to go when we’ve just told God no to his face. 

“Remember compassion,” God says.

“Yeah, no. I want to hurt this guy.” Sometimes we need a pretty swift reminder. So, remember this: God is full of compassion and mercy, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love for all of humanity. We are made in God’s image, so being full of compassion and mercy, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, that is the core of who we are. 

Showing compassion is how God made us to be, and can be one of the hardest things we do. Showing compassion is also one of the strongest things we do. The anger and contempt we have for others feels like strength, but it’s really just our weakness and fear having a temper tantrum. Real strength comes from showing compassion, being slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. 

That takes practice, too, and prayer, like much of anything worth doing, but we’re not practicing something outside ourselves or beyond ourselves. Practicing compassion and mercy is practicing at being our true selves. Practicing being slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love is practicing being our true selves. 

Contempt is when we’re getting outside of ourselves and letting fear dominate. Compassion is a return home, and so, whenever we feel contempt, that’s when Jesus is calling us. “Come home.” Set aside the anger, set aside the fear and contempt, and come home to compassion, mercy, and steadfast love. 

The Beautiful Sunset of Life in the Kingdom of God

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
October 27, 2024
Proper 25, B
Jeremiah 31:7-9
Psalm 126
Mark 10:46-52

Anyone ever ask for help, only to be ignored by others? Anyone ever ask for help and been silenced by others, told to keep quiet and to stop being such a bother? Anyone ever been made to feel ashamed for asking for help? That was the story of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar who called out to Jesus. “Have mercy on me,” he cried. “Oh, do shut up!” The people responded.
 
The crowd had contempt for Bartimaeus. Maybe because he was blind, they thought he was a sinner? Maybe he smelled bad and looked weird? Maybe they just didn’t want to be bothered by that rather annoying blind guy who was constantly begging and therefore constantly reminding them that they had plenty to be able to help him and were too self-absorbed or too fearful to do so? Perhaps they wanted to protect Jesus from that same annoyance and mild guilt that they felt? “We’re here doing religiousy godly stuff with a religiousy godly guy, and you’re just wrecking it Bartimaeus; go away.”
 
Whatever the case, Jesus didn’t share the crowd’s contempt for the blind beggar, Bartimaeus. Instead, Jesus invited the crowd to be a part of Bartimaeus’ healing. “Call him here,” Jesus said to the crowd, giving them the chance to repent of the contempt they had toward Bartimaeus, speaking to him with invitation rather than pushing him away. So, the first healing Jesus gave Bartimaeus was to have him be one with the people around him again. Then, as one with the crowd, Bartimaeus came to Jesus, and Jesus spoke to him like a human being. He restored Bartimaeus’ sight, and Bartimaeus joined him on the way.
 
In that whole encounter, the kingdom of God was revealed.
 
We’ve been hearing Jesus’ preaching for weeks now about life in God’s kingdom. We heard Jesus tell a rich man that eternal life means loving God and loving people here in this life. We heard Jesus teach his disciples that serving others, not ruling over them, but serving others, is greatness in God’s kingdom. Love God and love people, and let everything else flow from there.
 
So, when Bartimaeus asked for healing, Jesus continued his teaching about eternal life and God’s kingdom by showing the people what love God and love people is like. Those in the crowd who saw themselves as above Bartimaeus were turned into Bartimaeus’ servants. Jesus sent them to give Bartimaeus the message that Jesus was calling for him. The crowd became like a servant in a household who would call to the master of the house, letting him know that someone had arrived.
 
Jesus let the people become servants, rather than the important people they saw themselves as, and by giving them that servant role, Jesus helped heal the crowd, letting them live the life of the kingdom of God. Love God and love people. Through love God and love people, Jesus gave Bartimaeus and the crowd the eternal life of love in God’s kingdom.
 
Now, I’m going to guess a couple things here. One, that eternal life of the kingdom of God sounds lovely; it sounds great to me, I’m guessing it sounds great to others. Two, I’m also guessing that, as lovely as it is, the image and feeling of the kingdom of God will quickly fade, and we’ll end up back with contempt, maybe contempt for those like Bartimaeus whom we see as beneath us, maybe contempt for the crowds who see us as beneath them.
 
Like the beauty of a sunset, we’re captivated and awed by the images of the
kingdom of God, and then like a sunset, the beauty fades, and we are brought into the dark of night.
 
Then, it is easy for us to have contempt, especially for the crowd. Forgetting the beauty of God’s kingdom, let’s face it, it’s fun to be right and righteous. Having contempt for the crowd feels right and righteous. Having contempt for those around us whom we see as the crowd feels right and righteous. Don’t they deserve our contempt?
 
I imagine Bartimaeus having contempt for the crowd. It does feel like they deserved it. He had been living the violence of looking out for me alone because of their indifference to him and their contempt of him. It was Bartimaeus against the world, or the world against Bartimaeus. His life was me against the world, a life of darkness and contempt. I imagine him being exhausted, drained of life.
 
The struggle of waking up to a world of darkness, not his blindness, but the darkness of him against everyone and everyone against him. That darkness drains the life from people. Me against the world saps us of our humanity. Struggle, fear, anger, with no one in your corner. Little or no trust. Little or no joy. That’s the life of me against the world, the darkness of night when the beauty of the kingdom of God fades.  
 
I can imagine Bartimaeus still having contempt for the crowd even once his sight was restored. He could have still felt that it was he against the world, but Jesus helped heal his heart of contempt before he healed his blindness. Bringing the crowd into Bartimaeus’ healing, allowing them to be Bartimaeus’ servants, Jesus allowed healing of contempt, restoring not just sight, but the beauty of that sunset of eternal life in the kingdom of God.
 
As a result, when his sight was restored, Bartimaeus followed Jesus on the way. They walked off into the sunset of the kingdom of God. The eternal life of the kingdom of God in this story of healing. Jesus healed the crowd. Then Jesus healed Bartimaeus, not primarily of blindness. Jesus healed Bartimaeus of isolation. He healed him of me against the world.
 
From the darkness of isolation and contempt, of violence and anger, Jesus brought both Bartimaeus and the crowd around him to the eternal life of love God and love people. From the dark of night, Jesus brought the crowd and Bartimaeus the beautiful, and healing sunset of life in the kingdom of God.