Jesus Has United to That Pain Too

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
April 18, 2025
Good Friday, C
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Psalm 22
John 18:1-19:42

So, if I were to say, “Cry Night,” does anyone know what in the world I’m talking about? I’m guessing not. See, Cry Night is a term (not coined by me) that is used to describe the last night of many a youth trip or retreat. 

Cry night is where you’re on a youth trip, and at the end of the trip, when everyone is exhausted and worn out, you talk with the kids about Jesus and how Jesus took their sins upon himself, and you pull every emotionally manipulative trick you have in order to get the kids to really feel their culpability in Jesus’ death so they will then feel gratitude and love for Jesus. 

Cry Night. It’s great. I don’t really do Cry Night, and I’m guessing most folks here don’t, but it has been a part of quite a few youth trips I’ve been on. It’s a bit much.

I suppose our liturgy does something similar, as we go through the last days and minutes of Jesus’ life, there is an emotional pull to our liturgy. Heck, one of my favorite hymns, “Ah Holy Jesus,” is very emotional, even having the line, “I crucified thee.”

So, I suppose I’m not against emotional appeals to our culpability in Jesus’ death. I suppose my challenge is really the potential theology behind such emotional appeals. 

In my experience, your typical Cry Night theology tends to be that we are all terrible sinners from birth, and we were all of us justly destined to an eternity of torment, God’s just punishment for our sins. Because Jesus loves us, however, he took the penalty upon himself, suffering all of the torment we should suffer so that we don’t have to. So now, realizing that, look upon the one you made suffer. Look at what you did to him.

Feel bad because of what you did. Now, love Jesus because of what he did. 

Ok, that’s fine. There’s some truth there, but that story, by itself, with the emotional manipulation, can also be a bit harmful when some folks get overwhelmed by the guilt and the horror of what “they’ve” done. 

“I had no idea I was so awful. I mean, I knew I’ve  messed up, but I didn’t think I was that terrible.” 

“Oh, you are, and worse even, but Jesus loves you, and you’re forgiven.” 

“Ok, great that I’m forgiven, but now I hate myself.”

The story of Jesus’ passion and death, and the meaning of what his passion and death were, are only partially understood with the idea that Jesus took the penalty of our sins upon himself, and the story is perhaps misunderstood with the idea that God was going to torture us all for eternity until he realized, “Oh, maybe I’ll do the Jesus thing instead.”

See, the problem with those stories is, they forget who Jesus is. Jesus is the Word of God which spoke creation into existence. Jesus is the Word of God which is God. So, when we say, “Jesus did this,” what we’re saying is, “God did this.” God took the penalty for our sins upon Godself.

What is the penalty? In a word, the penalty is isolation. We are harmed, and we pull away. We cause harm, and others pull away, and we pull away even further. Isolation, the hells we make for ourselves because we are not united to others, or we feel and fear that we aren’t united to others. That’s simply part of what it is to be human. 

So, when we say, Jesus took the penalty of our sins upon himself, we mean that even when we experience that penalty, we aren’t truly alone. Nothing can separate us from God, not even our separation from God. 

God became human, and as that human being, Jesus of Nazareth, God united fully with humanity. On the cross, God united even with our sins and the penalty for our sins. God united with our disunity. God united with the pain and misery that disunity causes us. God united with all of the hells we put ourselves in, all the hells we put ourselves through. 

Then, finally, God united even with our death, as Jesus said, “It is finished,” and breathed his last. “It is finished.” There is no more separation from God. Our separation from God has been united to God even in our death.

Why? Because God sees us hurting and alone, and God knows we need healing. 

So yes, Jesus took our sins and the penalty of our sins upon himself on the cross, and he did so because he was God, uniting with all of our lives. 

With that in mind, let’s steer away from, “Look at what you did to Jesus.” God chose that death on the cross, because God sees all that we go through, and God wants healing for us, and God knows that unity with God in every aspect of our lives, unity with God and one another is how we are healed. 

So, when we say, Jesus took our pain upon the cross, see your pain there, and see that Jesus has united himself to your pain. When we say, Jesus took our pain upon the cross, see the pain you’ve caused others; see that Jesus has united that pain to himself as well. When we say, Jesus took our pain upon the cross, see the pain of others that in your indifference, you haven’t done a whole lot to heal; see that Jesus has united that pain to himself as well. 

When you look at the cross, see all of our pain, everyone’s pain; see that is has been united to God by Jesus. Then, ask yourself, what am I going to do about it? How am I going to live? 

Not to get too emotionally appealy, not to get to a Cry Night level, but might we trust that Jesus has our pain united to God, and therefore, might could we spend a little less time constantly trying to soothe our pain, and our fears, and our worries? Instead, might we be able to strive to soothe other peoples’ pain, trusting that all that we are is already fully united with God. Might we trust Jesus’ healing for ourselves enough that we could live that healing for others?

Might each of us give up some of the ways we self-soothe and spend some of that time and money in the service of others? Not to get too far ahead of ourselves, Easter isn’t for a couple days yet, but when we spend some of our time and money in the service of others, rumor has it that we might just see Jesus on the way.

Unflinching Self-Honesty and a Life Well-Lived

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
March 23, 2025
3 Lent, C
Philippians 3:17-4:1
Psalm 27
Luke 13:31-35

So, the Roman governor, Pilate, had some Israelites killed, and then he took some of their blood and mixed it in with the sacrifices Rome was making to their gods. He turned people into human sacrifices, so not only was their death unjust and tragic, but then Pilate turned their death into a total affront to all the people of Israel. 

So, the questions would have come. Is God protecting us or not? Are we still God’s beloved, or were those people just really, really awful that God let that happen to them? That must be it.

So, Jesus asked them, “Do you really think they were worse than everyone else?” 

“Well, yeah,” the people thought.

“No guys, not so much,” Jesus responded. “We’re all liable to the same judgment, by God, not by Rome, and tragic death, like that, can happen to any of us at any time.” A terrible and corrupt governor in Rome decided to kill those Israelites, not God, and those 18 who died when the tower of Siloam fell on them, that was due to unfortunate engineering and less than ideal construction, not God deciding to kill them with a tower.

People die, all the time: sometimes after a long and beautiful life, peacefully dying in their beds; sometimes suddenly, violently, through horrible tragedy. That’s just the way it is.

This isn’t really a surprise to us. We know this. We see it all the time. As much as we may sometimes like to think or wish that the wicked die terribly while the good are blissfully eased into peaceful and expected death, we know this isn’t the case. Whether it’s Rabbi Kusher’s book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, Rabbi Schusterman’s book, Why God Why?, or Rabbi Joel’s song, Only the Good Die Young, we seem to understand that tragic and early death can happen to anyone at any time. We seem to understand that the amount and quality of one’s sinfulness does not determine the amount of one’s suffering or violence and suddenness of one’s death. 

We know this, and yet, we often have thoughts and questions just like the Israelites did, who asked Jesus about the people Pilate killed. Sometimes we’re trying to justify ourselves a little bit and make ourselves feel safer. Maybe they were bad, or we wonder if they had done something wrong. We certainly hear preachers often talk about this, though usually directed at folks with political differences, religious differences, or even folks with the wrong brand of Christianity. That self-justification is bad enough. Perhaps even worse is when we can’t find anything objectionable in those who died, so we try to defend and justify God. “God needed a new angel.” More than that little kid needed his mom, are you kidding me?

Well, whether we’re claiming that those people were bad or that God was particularly in need of a new winged harpist that day, all of our justifications for tragic death are a basic fear response. We’re trying to make sense of the world, and we’re trying to make safe our own place within it.

“Yeah, that’s missing the point, guys,” Jesus says. Rather than trying to fool yourselves into thinking that the world makes sense and is always good, right and just; rather than try to fool yourselves into imagining your place in the world is safe from harm, realize that yes, indeed, tragedy can happen to anyone at any time. So instead of fretting your life away with false platitudes to boost your serotonin levels, accept life as it is, with all of its sometimes scary randomness.

Then, repent, and repent again, and then, for good measure, repent again, and after that, go ahead and have breakfast and keep going with your day, repenting continually as you go. That’s what Jesus told the people in response to their question about whether only the wicked died tragically. Stop worrying about that, y’all, and instead, “repent and return to the Lord.”

Now, I don’t believe this was a fearful, frightening message that you better repent or else, despite what we may have heard from popular Christian preachers. Jesus was not threatening the people to be good enough or repent well enough that no harm would come to them. Jesus’ call to repentance is not meant as a talisman against harm. 

Rather, Jesus’ call to repentance is a call continually to align our lives with the life and love of God. Doing so may not save us from the crazy whims of a despotic ruler, and being good enough won’t magically keep a poorly built structure from falling on us. What repentance does, what continually aligning our lives with the life and love of God does is allow us to truly live, a life of wholeness, a life of fruitfulness. Like the fruit on the fig tree Jesus talked about, like the fruit of the Spirit, repentance brings about love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Those are the fruits we are seeking to grow in our lives. If our lives are long, ending peacefully in bed, we seek to grow the fruit of the Spirit, and if our lives are cut short, even violently, tragically, we still seek to grow the fruit of the Spirit. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. A life full of those fruits sounds like a life well-lived, whether long or short, a life well-lived. 

So, Jesus calls us to repentance, calls us to a life well-lived.

Repentance means looking deeply, being unflinchingly honest with ourselves, and seeing what defects of character, what ways we follow are bringing harm to ourselves or harm to others. Overindulgence, harshness, falsehood, malice, cruelty, frenzy, anger, resentment, hatred. We don’t eat these fruits in order to bring harm to the world. We eat these fruits because we are hurting and they make us feel better, at least for a little while. Anger, resentment and hatred make us feel strong. Overindulgence, harshness, and falsehood help us feel safe. Malice, cruelty, and frenzy make us feel in control.

So, we eat these fruits, and they destroy the fruit of the Spirit within us. Our overindulgence, harshness, falsehood, malice, cruelty, frenzy, anger, resentment, hatred: these things continually leach out of us into the lives of everyone around us. These negative fruits grow within us because of the ways we live which feed these fruits, these toxins, and so Jesus calls us to repent. 

Repent of the actions and ways in our lives that feed these toxins and cause them to leach out from us into the lives of others. What are those ways that feed these negative fruits? Of what do we each need to repent? Well, answering those questions is why we pray and look deeply into our lives with unflinching honesty. Then, we make a decision to turn from these harmful ways with God’s help. Our trust comes in believing that God actually does have something greater for us than our negative fruits bring. 

So, we are called to repent, over and over again, continually turning toward the ways of love, and hope, and faith. Repent of the ways that feed our anxiety and angst. Repent of the ways that feed our selfish overindulgence. Repent of the ways that fill our hearts with anger and resentment. Then, let God grow within us the fruit of the Spirit. 

With that fruit, we can be at peace, even amidst fear, even though death may come at any time. We seek the fruit of the Spirit. We turn to Jesus. We align our lives with his way of life and love, and we walk with him in a life well-lived.

God's Kingdom on Earth, Bound to the Cycles of Nature

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
December 1, 2024
1 Advent, C
1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
Psalm 25:1-9
Luke 21:25-36

We are currently smack dab in the middle of the dead time of the year. The nights are getting longer, and they have been for some time. With the longer nights, we’ve got less and less light each day. It’s the season of darkness and death. Now, in 21 days, it’ll be December 22, and that is the day of the winter solstice, the longest night of the year. After that night, the days start getting longer, the nights get shorter, the light returns, and while we’re still in this season of winter, this season of death, there’s this rebirth of life with the solstice and the light returning to the world. 

A couple thousand years ago, the winter solstice was on December 25, and that’s why that date was chosen as the day we celebrate Christmas. We celebrate the light of Jesus coming into the world on the day when the days get longer and light returns to the world. 

Every year this happens, a season of death, followed by the return of the light, leading to the season of rebirth and new life. That new life and rebirth is what Jesus was talking about when he said, “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.” 

When the fig tree sprouts leaves, the fruit will be coming soon. New life, rebirth. Few of us farm or have a whole lot of knowledge about plants nowadays, so we could say, once the playoffs start, we know a new champion will be crowned soon. Of course, after the new champion, you get the dead season without baseball, football, basketball, or whichever sport you like. Then there’s spring training, the pre-season, and the whole thing starts over again. 

Whether the cycles of the sun and moon, the cycles of plants and nature, or even the cycles of sports teams, there’s a season of life, of death, of rebirth, and of new life. These cycles and seasons continue over and over, every year. Jesus was fully aware of this cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth when he told his followers that the kingdom of God would come like figs on a tree. 

God’s kingdom comes, God’s kingdom fades, and God’s kingdom comes again. Throughout the church, throughout our lives, throughout scripture, we see God’s kingdom coming and being lived for a time, and then we see God’s kingdom fade, not because God leaves, but because here on this earth with the cycles of nature in which we live, God’s kingdom is bound to the same cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth. 

God’s full kingdom is beyond our physical world, beyond death and decay, and eventually, God’s kingdom will come fully and for all time. In the meantime, God’s kingdom comes over and over, joining with us in the cycles of our physical lives, and so God’s kingdom in our lives now lasts for a time, fades, and returns. 

How long till God’s kingdom is fully established and there will be no more cycles of death and life, but only life forevermore? No one knows. The writers of the Gospels and the writers of the letters of our scriptures, including Paul, seemed to think God’s kingdom would be fully established pretty quickly. They seemed to think Jesus would come again with the clouds within a few years. 

They were wrong, that’s ok. Look at the prayers they prayed, believing Jesus’ return was imminent. 

“And may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you.” That was Paul’s prayer for the Thessalonian churches. May y’all abound in love for one another and for all, “and may [God] so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints.”

Would that that was our prayer for one another every day. May God increase in us love for one another and for all, and may God strengthen us all that we will be holy and blameless before God.

When Paul prayed that, he was planting seeds of prayer for those churches he had started. The cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth was happening in the Thessalonian churches even as Paul wrote his letter, and so rather than wait for the death of God’s kingdom within their churches, Paul was praying for new life within them. Paul was planting seeds of new life even before the old life had begun to decay. May God strengthen you all to be holy and blameless.

Now, we know we’re not going to be completely blameless before God. Paul knew the folks in the Thessalonian churches weren’t going to be completely blameless. Actual blamelessness before God was never the point. Strengthening in love, that was the point. God’s strength working in us that we may be holy, meaning that we may choose not the ways of hatred and violence we so often see and celebrate in the world, but that we would choose instead the ways of love, forgiveness, and self-sacrifice.

Paul’s prayer was that as the Spirit and kingdom of God began to decay within the church, new seeds would take root and new love, forgiveness, and self-sacrifice would grow in their place. 

Even with the new life and new seeds prayed into people’s lives, there is going to be death, and there is going to be waiting till the new life begins to bud. Such is the nature of all created things. So, part of the prayer for us is also a prayer for patience. 

With our patience and waiting, we have work to do. Like in the off season of sports, like working the ground and caring for plants during the winter, there is work we get to do as we wait for God’s kingdom to be reborn. Our work is to persevere, to build each other up in love. Our work is to comfort one another when discouraged or sorrowful, to encourage one another in faith and life. Our work is to pray without ceasing.

We pray that we will not lose heart as we wait for Jesus to come again. We pray that we will wait with patience for God’s kingdom. We pray that we will increase and abound in love for one another throughout the seasons of our lives. As God’s kingdom grows within us, as there is a fading of God’s kingdom within us, and as there is a rebirth of God’s kingdom within us, we pray always for love to rule in our hearts. 

“Nope,” Jesus said. Rather than bring death, Jesus transformed death into life.

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
October 20, 2024
Proper 24, B
Isaiah 53:4-12
Psalm 91:9-16
Mark 10:35-45

So, there’s an election coming up in a few weeks, and yes, I am encouraging you all to vote, and no, I’m not encouraging anyone to vote in any particular way. I’m bringing up the election because it is once again rather contentious, hotly contested, and there’s this feeling in the air of, “Holy Dear Lord Almighty Sweet Baby Jesus, if the right side doesn’t win, then the Kingdom of God will be destroyed, and Jesus will never return.”
 
That is, of course, not the case. Neither side winning is going to bring about the destruction of the Kingdom of God. The election may be important, but it ain’t that important. Not even the gates of Hell can prevail against the Kingdom of God, and the president and congress of the United States, as much power as they may wield, aren’t powerful enough to destroy or bring about God’s kingdom.
 
Our hope is not in whoever becomes president. As Jesus pointed out to his disciples in our Gospel lesson today, our hope is not in any human power or position. Our hope is in Jesus, in the unity with God and one another which Jesus has forged. The Word of God which spoke creation into existence became human, fully uniting humanity and divinity. God and humans are one, and nothing, not even a bad president can separate that unity.  
 
So, despite the terrible angst and seemingly large stakes of the upcoming election, our hope is in Jesus’ victory. His is the victory and power not of human governments, not of domination, or enforcing his will. Jesus’ victory is the power of service, surrender, and resurrection, transforming death into life.
 
That resurrection power of service and surrender is the power we live out when we live the life of the kingdom of God which Jesus taught us to live. In today’s Gospel reading, once again, Jesus taught us to wield resurrection power not through the might of ruling over others, but through loving and serving one another as we were created to do.  
 
When James and John sought great power from Jesus, he assured them that such power of ruling over others is not what makes us great in the kingdom of God. They wanted to sit one on his right hand and one on his left, and they weren’t thinking of life after this up in heaven. That idea was kind of a concept in Jesus’ day, but not the dogma we have now. The thought of, “Let me serve with you after I’ve died,” was almost certainly not in their brains.

No, James and John wanted earthly power to rule with Jesus as his co-world-dominating vice-presidents. They wanted power and might over other human beings, and that is simply not the way of the kingdom of God.
 
“You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you;” Jesus taught, “but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant.” That sounds a lot like Eden, being one another’s companions and helpers.  
That teaching that those who wish to be great must be servants in God’s kingdom is pretty darn similar to the teaching we heard last week with the man who had great wealth. Remember, he wanted to make sure that he had the best of everything in this world and this life, and also to make sure that he had the best of everything in the life to come. “Sure, Jesus, I care about others and hear you teaching that I can use my vast wealth to serve others and to make sure they have enough as well, but I really love my stuff more than I do other people.” He wanted an “all about me” salvation, making sure that he was going to be ok, and not thinking too much about the well-being of anyone else. That’s not salvation; it’s just selfishness.
 
Remember the man in the parable Jesus told who used his great wealth to make sure everyone who worked for him, had a living wage. He even went searching for more folks to work for him, even if only for an hour, to make sure that they had a living wage too. That’s greatness in God’s kingdom, using wealth as a servant, not as one to be served.
 
Greatness in God’s kingdom comes from using what God has given us for the benefit of others, not for ourselves to get even more, and greatness in God’s kingdom does not come by forcing the world to be how we want it to be. Even when we’re right, it’s not our world to force our will upon. Even if we’re right, forcing our will on others is being a tyrant, and Jesus expressly taught against being a tyrant. The world is not any of ours to rule, not even by proxy, electing the folks we think are the right ones to be in office. God’s kingdom and our hope do not come from us or through elected proxies on our behalf. No, our hope and God’s kingdom come from Jesus, from the unity with God that he gave and through the resurrection life that he continually gives.
 
Even so, a lot of us are going to be mightily disappointed the day after the election. Some will be angry. Some may be legitimately afraid because of who gets elected, and some will be afraid probably not so legitimately. Fear, anger, and angst are very human and understandable reactions to the changes and chances of this life. Reacting out of our fear, anger, and angst, are also understandable, and, those fearful and angry reactions go against the kingdom of God. Those fearful and angry reactions come from feelings of powerlessness, wanting power over a world that is not in our control.
 
That is the power that James and John wanted, and Jesus told them, “No.” That power is not the way of God’s kingdom.
 
Jesus teaches us instead to accept our powerlessness, just like he did before Pontius

Pilate. “I have the power to kill you or to save your life,” Pilate said. “Nope,” Jesus said. “I could command hosts of angels to save me and destroy you all, but I’m not going to do that.” Jesus could have brought death to thousands and saved his own life.  Instead, Jesus accepted the seeming power that Pilate held over him, and because of that, rather than just bring more death, Jesus transformed death into life.
 
So, what are we to do then with our fear, and anger, and feelings of powerlessness? Once again, we follow Jesus’ example and teaching. We give our fear and anger over to God. We ask God for the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. We act out of the fruit of the Spirit, rather than the burning fire of our anger and fear. Let by the fruit of the Spirit, we can call and write our political leaders to let them know of our fear and anger. They probably won’t care, but we can.
 
We can let go our fear and anger, accept our powerlessness, and choose to love and serve one another because that is who and how we were made to be. Loving and serving one another is how we live the eternal life of God. Loving and serving one another is how we live the life of God’s kingdom.
 
Our hope is in Jesus, and our hope is in the resurrection life of service and surrender, loving one another, even loving our enemies, so that all things, even death itself, are transformed into life.   

Our Enemies' Sin Placed on Our Own Crosses

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets
April 7, 2024
2 Easter, Year B
Acts 4:32-35
Psalm 133
John 20:19-31

 Our Enemies' Sin Placed on Our Own Crosses

Did you notice that when Jesus revealed himself to his disciples after his resurrection, they didn’t recognize his face? Jesus was standing there among them, “Peace be with you,” he said, and then he showed them is scars. That’s when they rejoiced at seeing him. The disciples didn’t recognize Jesus until he showed them his scars. 

That tells me, not only did God chose to be wounded to join us in our woundedness. God also chose to keep those wounds. God chose to keep those scars.

See, the whole idea with the incarnation, the whole idea with God becoming human, is that God joins with us fully in our humanity. So, even after Jesus was raised from the dead, he was still human. God chose to remain human in Jesus because we remain human. God chose to keep the scars inflicted by humanity because we still have the scars inflicted by one another. 

Just as the disciples didn’t recognize Jesus’ face, we encounter people every day whom we don’t know, people whom we don’t recognize, but if we were to hear their stories, their brokenness and their hurt, we’d recognize their scars. Different situations, different factors, different lives, but we all have scars, and we know each other and have compassion on one another because of our scars.

Jesus, raised among us, could be any one of us. The crucified God, raised to new life, living in each of us. The crucified God joining in our scars, joining in our hurts, joining in our suffering and our doubts. The fact of our suffering is why God chose to suffer. The fact of our suffering is why Jesus’ final command to his disciples was that they should love one another. 

Then, Jesus’ first command upon being raised was “Forgive the sins of any.” Now, his command was given in the form of this conditional statement, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” Jesus was not, of course, conferring power upon a few to begin a religion of sin management. Jesus was telling his disciples the truth about forgiveness. 

If we retain one another’s sins, they are retained. If we hold on to one another’s sins, we continue to wound one another. The scars deepen, with anger and resentment, and the damage is made worse. Notice that Jesus gave his disciples the command to forgive just after showing them the scars in his hands and side. Jesus was showing them the cost of a lack of forgiveness, the cost of holding on to one another’s sins. The cost of unforgiveness was Jesus’ life. The cost of unforgiveness is all of our lives.

A profound lack of forgiveness, and the anger, fear, and violence that goes along with not forgiving, is why humanity decided to kill God, to kill love, when love became human. A lack of forgiveness kills love.
So, Jesus showed them his scars and commanded them to forgive. 

Jesus was showing them and us true life, eternal life, God’s own life dwelling within us. Life continues on even after death, so we need not fear. We need not fear death for there is new life after death.

Forgiveness can feel like death. How can we live without our anger? How can we live without holding on to the pain? How can we live without holding on to our desires for vengeance against those who have hurt us? The truth is, there is a kind of death in forgiveness, and that death looks like crucifixion. 

When Jesus was crucified, he took the sin of the world with him on the cross to forgive all of us. Following his example, Jesus taught us to take up our own crosses. Take up our own crosses and bring upon them the sins of others against us. Take upon our crosses our anger, our fear, and our desires for vengeance so that we might be able to forgive as God has forgiven us.

Yes, there is death in forgiveness, and as Jesus showed us, there is new life after forgiveness. Of course, that new life can also scare us. The new life scares us because we can’t imagine living without our anger, our fear, and our desires for vengeance. Who will we be without them? Who will we be if we let go of our hurt and our desires for vengeance? 

Jesus’ scars show us that we will still be ourselves. That’s how the disciples recognized Jesus. When we put to death on a cross our anger, fear, and desire for vengeance, we are able to forgive, we find new life in forgiveness, and we find ourselves changed. We find ourselves healed. We find that appear different than we were, and we find that we are still ourselves, and we bear the scars to prove it. 

It's ok to forgive. It’s ok to let go. “Receive the Holy Spirit,” Jesus said. Let God’s spirit breathe new life into you. Be a new Adam. Be a new Eve. Let God’s new life heal you, and fear not. You will still be you. Accepting God’s Spirit, being healed and having new life, does not erase the past. Accepting God’s Spirit and placing the sins of others against us on a cross brings new life into the world. This new life is the life of love. The life of love is life that is changed, healed, and bears the scars to prove it. 

I’d like to end with a poem written by our bishop, Andy Doyle, about Jesus’ resurrection and his scars.

I am the nonbeliever,
the skeptic 
even a deceiver

I am the two faced Christian 
the Sunday morning faithful
and the weekday scornful

No,
Jesus
You 
Touch my wounds
seen and unseen
feel the broken skin of my hands
worked to the bone

see my broken legs
tired of the weight of the world
my pierced side 
from the back stabbers knife

I am the man 
the woman 
the child
who calls in the night
silently cries out
and weeps for loss

Give me faith
because I cannot touch

Give me faith
because I cannot feel

Give me faith 
because I cannot see

Give me faith

I am not the blessed
but the damned
the lost
and the weak

You are the one I seek
help me hear your words
your invitation
your grace

help me Lord Jesus
see my reflection 
in your wounds
my hope in your death
my life in your resurrection
~ C. Andrew Doyle