Apostles of Forgiveness

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
April 27, 2025
2 Easter, C
Acts 5:27-32
Psalm 118:14-29
John 20:19-31

Jesus talked a lot about forgiveness. He gave us parables about the forgiveness of God, like in Matthew 18:15-20 with a parable about guy who owed 2000 lifetimes’ worth of wages and was forgiven all of his debt. Jesus taught his disciples that as far and as long as there is vengeance in the world, that is how far and how long you are to forgive. Then, Jesus showed that he actually meant what he said when he forgave his murderers in the act of killing him. “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.”

Sure, they didn’t know that they were killing God incarnate, but I think he meant that they didn’t know that their killing him, even just as a regular human being, their killing him was wrong. I know that because “Jesus didn’t count equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself,” and Jesus taught that whatever we do to the least among us, we do to him. 

Father, forgive them, because they just don’t get that killing other people is wrong. Forgive them, even though they’re incurring over 2000 lifetimes’ worth of debt. Forgive them because they just don’t get it; they just don’t understand the horror of what they’re doing.

Then, when Jesus was raised from the dead and met with his disciples, he said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit,” just as he had received the Holy Spirit in his baptism, and he told them that he was sending them just as he had been sent by God the Father. “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them,” he said. “If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

If you forgive sins, they are forgiven. If you retain sins, they are retained.

This has become a bit of a power play in parts of the Church, hasn’t it? Some folks believe that priests, standing in for Jesus, proclaim people as being forgiven or not forgiven. Jesus did say, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” So, there you have it; if you don’t forgive, they’re not forgiven.

Is that really what Jesus meant, though? If you select few proclaim my forgiveness, then I have forgiven someone, and if you don’t proclaim my forgiveness, it is because I have not forgiven someone? Is that really what Jesus meant? Maybe. Then again, maybe not.

Remember just how darn much Jesus forgave and how seriously Jesus took forgiveness. He taught his disciples to forgive for as far and as long as there is forgiveness in the world. I don’t know that he’s then going to say, “Oh, by the way guys, I’m often not going to forgive, and you’ll know when, so you can retain the sins of some people.” Nah. Not so much.

“If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven.” If you, or I, or anyone forgives the sins of any, they are forgiven. When you forgive someone, that person is freed and so are you. So, don’t worry about whether or not Jesus will forgive; I’m pretty sure we’ve seen that he already has. Instead, focus on your forgiveness, the forgiveness you give others. Your forgiveness is real. Your forgiveness is true. Your forgiveness is healing and life-giving.

At the same time, realize that your lack of forgiveness is just as real and just as true. Your lack of forgiveness is harmful and deadly. “If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” You get to keep that poison, if you choose, slowly killing you and those around you. Even though Jesus has forgiven, our lack of forgiveness can still harm us and kill us.

So, forgive, Jesus told us. As the Father sent Jesus to forgive, so does Jesus send us to forgive, at least that’s what the story says.

How do we know that Jesus really did send us to forgive? How do we know that Jesus was even right in his commands for us to forgive? We often don’t want to forgive. We often feel like people don’t deserve forgiveness, and we’re probably right. They probably don’t. When it doesn’t feel like people deserve forgiveness, or even ask for forgiveness, how do we know that it really is ok to forgive? How do we know that it really is the right thing to forgive?

Well, the short answer is, we don’t. We don’t know that forgiveness is the right thing. We’re asked to believe.

Thomas didn’t know if it was Jesus he was seeing. His fellow disciples had seen Jesus, and Jesus showed them his scars. Then, when they told Thomas about it, he didn’t believe, and said he wouldn’t believe until Jesus showed him his scars. Then, when Jesus offered to show Thomas his scars, Thomas said, “No, that’s not necessary. You are my Lord and my God.” Thomas didn’t see what his fellow disciples saw, and yet he believed. His fellow disciples saw even more, and they believed. Mary Magdalene, the first apostle, saw Jesus outside the tomb, and she believed. 

We have their stories, and we are asked to believe, and we are also asked to believe Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness. We are asked to believe that we are Jesus’ apostles of forgiveness, sent by Jesus to forgive.

So, how’s that work? Does being sent as apostles of forgiveness mean that if someone kills someone we love, we should just say, “I forgive them, so just let them go kill again?” Of course not. We can forgive and still have people in prison. Safety and keeping others from harm is still a thing, but what about forgiveness and even release when someone is sorrowful for what they’ve done and has repented? Might forgiveness involve advocating for their release from prison? Might that be part of the life-giving healing Jesus had in mind? 

I read a story published in People magazine about a man who did advocate for the release from prison of his brother’s murderer. Kimyon Marshall was 15 years old back in 1998, when he killed Ruben Cotton over a pair of tennis shoes. Ruben’s older brother, Darryl Green, was torn apart by grief and anger at his brother’s killing, for which the murderer, Kimyon, received a life sentence. Over the next decade and a half, Darryl struggled with his anger and struggled for purpose, even though successful in his career. “Although Kimyon was the one behind bars,” he said, “I was in my own prison, a prison of hatred.” After 15 years, Darryl and his father agreed that it was time to forgive Kimyon. So, they went to his resentencing hearing, and they heard his remorse, and they advocated for his release.

At the hearing, Darryl shook Kimyon’s hand. They both cried, and Darryl said to him, “You’ve been known for taking a life, now let’s go save some lives together.” From there, they started an organization called, “Deep Forgiveness” which works with young people, helping them break free from cycles of violence. 

They have been doing this work together for years now, and forgiveness is still work for Darryl, but he said that “Once you forgive, you’re now able to unlock the key to your own prison cell.” As for Kimyon, he says that when he received the gift of freedom from Darryl’s family, he was able to give back to the community and work to save lives.

That’s the power of forgiveness. Darryl and his family retained Kimyon’s sins for 15 years, and those sins were retained. Then, they were ready to forgive him his sins, and his sins were forgiven. What came next was healing and life-giving. A man and his brother’s murderer, reconciled, working together to bring forgiveness and life to the world. That’s resurrection. That’s the gospel of Jesus lived out among us. That’s two men believing in the forgiveness of Jesus and then living as Jesus sent them to live, as apostles of forgiveness.

So we are asked to believe and live as well. Jesus said when we retain people’s sins, they are retained, and indeed they are. We keep that poison and remain imprisoned ourselves until we’re able to forgive, and that takes time. Then, when we forgive people’s sins, as Jesus sent us to do, they are indeed forgiven. We are apostles of forgiveness, sent by Jesus to forgive, just as Jesus was sent by God the Father to forgive, and when we do, we are freed, and there is healing and new life.

https://people.com/darryl-green-deep-forgiveness-man-forgave-brothers-killer-exclusive-7506937

New Heavens & A New Earth: Some Beautiful Nonsense

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
April 20, 2025
Easter Sunday, C
Isaiah 65:17-25
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
Luke 24:1-12

“I am about to create new heavens and a new earth,” God said in Isaiah 65. “Be glad and rejoice forever.” Jesus was raised from the dead, and we saw something of this new heavens and new earth. Life that is not ended in death. Death that has lost its terror because death has become a gateway from life to life. Such is the new heavens and the new earth that God promises and gives us a glimpse of on Easter, with Jesus’ resurrection.

To some, it may sound like nonsense. Sometimes even to me it sounds like nonsense, except that God creating something new is the story throughout scripture, a story of hope. New heavens and a new earth sounds like hope, hope rooted in God’s creative love for us and for all that God has made. “Behold,” Jesus says in Revelation 21:5, “Behold, I am making all things new.” 

So, the new heavens and the new earth are what God has in mind for humanity, which sounds amazing. The idea of a new heavens and a new earth is captivating for humanity, so much so that we have countless sci-fi films about living on other planets and what the mysteries of the galaxies may hold. We’ve been to the moon, sent a probe out beyond our solar system, and we’ve had robots land on Mars so we can explore the mysteries of our neighboring planet. 

Now, we even have talk of people colonizing Mars. There are ideas of setting up bases where people can live, and there are even ideas of eventually terraforming the planet to make it habitable for people. Those are the dreams of some of humanity, that our new heavens and new earth will be the red planet. Ok, on the one hand, that sounds really, really cool: making a whole new planet where people can live and getting to travel there on a spaceship. That’s like all of the coolest sci-fi movies. 

On the other hand, however, colonizing Mars as a new planet for humanity to live on, sounds like nonsense to me, not because it’s not possible. I’m sure it’s possible to colonize a dead planet and make it habitable for humans. I mean, we live in Houston where we have about one and three-quarters seasons throughout the year, so I figure we can make just about any place habitable. 

The idea of making Mars a new earth for humanity sounds like nonsense to me because we’re already wrecking the earth we’ve got. The idea that after the Earth is wrecked, humanity will have another place to go, a new paradise for humanity that we’ve created on Mars, nonsense. That truly does sound like science fiction. Colonizing Mars is nonsense because of the almost certain reality that the only people who would get to go to this new earth, this new paradise, are the extremely rich and those with skills necessary for them to survive. 

That’s how things tend to work on this earth already. The extremely wealthy have more than they need for many lifetimes, while in the same economy, others work hard, remain in poverty, and become homeless. So, humanity’s idea of a new heaven and new earth is probably gonna follow the same pattern.

God making a new heaven and a new earth, however, means God is making something truly different. Some rabbis understood this new heaven and new earth to mean that God was bringing about a new social and world order: new rulers in the heavens, new rulers on earth, rulers who would follow in the ways of justice, mercy, and love. 

We seem to have had a taste of that in the early church, a new order with new leaders. The first apostles in the church, the first people Jesus appeared to after his resurrection, were women. “Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them” were the first apostles in the church, and they went to the male disciples of Jesus and told them that Jesus had been raised from the dead. A new way, with women as the first apostles and the men becoming apostles too, although, when the men heard what the Mary and apostles had to say, their “words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.” 

Now, that part sounds less like new heavens and a new earth and more just like the status quo, but things were different for a while. There were early churches that were led by women, and in the earliest days of the church, we did see people living together in harmony, caring for one another, not seeing the privileged as blessed and the poor as burdens. For a while, there was something new in the church. It didn’t last, but it was a taste, a taste of things to come. 

Jesus rose from the grave as a promise to us all that life does not end in death, but there is new life after death. There is something new, something beautiful, something truly to hope for, and not just for the rich and powerful among humanity. God’s new heavens and new earth are something truly new, truly different, where justice, mercy, and love truly are the ways we live. That new heavens and new earth of justice, mercy, and love, that is the resurrection life that Jesus promised us when he was raised from the tomb. 

God became human as Jesus of Nazareth. He preached justice, mercy, and love. He healed people and lived justice, mercy, and love. Because of that humanity decided we needed to kill him, and as we did, Jesus said, “Father, forgive them.” When God became human, we killed him, and God said, “I forgive you,” and I am going to show you the beginning of a new heavens and a new earth.

I realize that like colonizing Mars, that may sound like nonsense, because it’s hard to wrap our minds around, but a friend of mine named Carrie wrote, “even if you will never be able to wrap your mind around the Resurrection, Easter is the promise that impossibly good things can happen after (and even in the midst of) terribly bad things. Terribly bad things are happening…right now, everywhere. We do nonsensical things like dye chicken eggs that somehow are associated with a rabbit. None of these things make sense, but neither does Easter. The world is completely upside down right now. [We] could use the promise of some nonsense that maybe, every valley will be exalted and every mountain and hill made low,” that there will be new heavens and a new earth, a new life that will never end, a life of justice, mercy, and love. 

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.

When We Help and Give Love to Folks in Need, We Have Jesus with Us

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets, Houston

April 6, 2025

5 Lent, C

Philippians 3:4b-14

Psalm 126

John 12:1-8

“You always have the poor with you,” Jesus said. I’ve often heard this said with a kind of fatalism. You’ll always have the poor with you so, there’s not a whole lot we can do; we wish it were different, but eh, we can’t really help. So, “You will always have the poor with you,” ends up being used as an excuse not to worry too much about poverty and those who suffer from poverty. The poor will always be with us, so just accept it and move on.

Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what Jesus meant when he said, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” Jesus taught extensively about caring for the poor. Jesus taught folks with wealth to live off of less so that those with little would have more. Jesus even taught that those at the top, in modern times, the CEOs and shareholders, should choose to earn less for themselves so that those on the bottom of the pay scale could earn more. 

So, when Jesus said, “You always have the poor with you,” he did not mean, “Meh, don’t worry about ‘em.”

Jesus was talking to Judas who was making a good self-righteous show, pretending to be upset about how much money Mary had spent on the perfume she was using to anoint Jesus. It was a huge amount of money, about 10 months’ worth of minimum wage, and she was using it all in one go to anoint Jesus’ feet. So yeah, fair point, that’s an extravagant expense, but as John tells us, Judas didn’t actually care about how the money could have been used on the poor; he just wanted to be able to keep more money for himself.

So, when Jesus responded, “You always have the poor with you,” he was telling Judas, “Dude, I know what you’re really on about, and if you actually care about the poor, like you say you do, I highly recommend doing something about it.” In fact, Jesus was commanding Judas to care for the poor. “You always have the poor with you,” was a paraphrase of Deuteronomy 15:11, “Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land’”.

Yes, Judas, you are commanded to care for the poor and needy in the land, so stop lambasting Mary, stop stealing, and start using what you have to care for those in need. In fact, Judas, not only do you always have the poor with you and should therefore care for them, but you do not always have me. 

Ok, on the one hand, Jesus was obviously speaking about his upcoming arrest and crucifixion. When Jesus was killed and then when he ascended into heaven, his friends and disciples truly didn’t have him there with them anymore. He continued and continues now to dwell in our hearts, in our very souls and bodies, and yet, Jesus is not walking among us physically, at least not in the way he was a couple thousand years ago. 

In Matthew 25:31-46, however, Jesus did say that whatever we do to the least among us, we do to him. We do have Jesus with us among the very poor and needy whom Jesus commanded Judas to care for. By not caring for others among us, we push Jesus away. 

So, anytime someone dismissively says, “You always have the poor with you,” and therefore figure there is nothing we can or should do about it, they are ignoring Jesus and pushing Jesus away. By words and actions that care only for the wealthy and do nothing for the poor and needy, people reveal the truth of Jesus’ statement, “you do not always have me.” When we push away, trample on, and ignore the poor and needy among us, we push away, trample on, and ignore Jesus and find his words are true. We don’t have Jesus with us. 

So, the truth is, we always have the poor with us; we always have people in need among us, but depending on how we treat them, we don’t always have Jesus. 

So, what are we then to do with the hugely expensive bit of perfume that Mary used up in one sitting to anoint Jesus’ feet. Well, it may not have been the best use of money ever in the history of the world, but Jesus meant a huge amount to their family. Beyond that, they seemed to have some idea of Jesus’ importance beyond just a family friend, and Mary wanted to honor and bless Jesus, and draw near to him in this act of pure love. 

Giving of ourselves to spend time with Jesus, never a bad idea. That’s part of what Paul was saying in his letter to the Philippians when he wrote, “I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” Paul had been one of the absolute best at his religion, and I don’t think there’s really a contest about being better than others at religions, but even so, Paul was the GOAT at his religion, and he gladly let all of it go when he came to know God as a human being, Jesus. 

Mary had this hugely expensive bit of perfume, and she got rid of all of it, used it all at once, in order to be near and offer love to Jesus. 

Now, don’t let anyone fool you into giving them all your money for some Jesusy, religious, whosadeewhatsit. “Send us $1000 and all your prayers will come true.” “Support our ministries with all you’ve got, and God’ll give it back to you with interest.” The only folks what get rich off things like that are the preachers.

No, when we give all that we have to draw near to Jesus, we’re giving our lives, our wills, desires in order to follow Jesus more fully. Sometimes we do give money to support ministries, and we do give money to help others in need, and when we’re helping those other people, we are drawing near to and loving Jesus. 

Realize too that when we give things up in order to draw near to and love Jesus, they’re usually things that we find we’re just fine without. Paul didn’t regret giving up his number one religious guy card, and Mary didn’t regret using all of that perfume on Jesus. She found afterwards that she didn’t need it anymore. 

When we help others in need, we tend to find that we didn’t really need whatever it was we gave up in order to give that help. We find instead that we have spent time with Jesus in those moments, and it was well worth it. We’ve always got folks in need among us, and when we help and give love to folks in need, we have Jesus with us as well.

God forgives those who need it.

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
March 30, 2025
4 Lent, C
2 Corinthians 5:16-21
Psalm 32
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

Context matters. With Scripture, as with anything context matters for determining the meaning of something. Taking bits of scripture out of context, we can get scripture to say all sorts of things. For example:

“God loves nothing,” rather, “God hates.” If I had a hankering to make up an angry, frightening story with scripture, taking words out of context, I might just say that. “God loves nothing. God hates.” See, context really does matter, because those words really are in scripture. Deuteronomy 16:22 really has the words, “God hates” right there together, but the verse is actually at the end of descriptions of idolatry and injustice, “things that the Lord your God hates.” That’s what scripture says; God hates things like idolatry and injustice. Context matters. 

Here's another one. “God loves nothing.” Ooh, way harsh, “God loves nothing,” and yes, you can pluck those words right out of scripture, from Wisdom 7:28, but here’s what it actually says, “God loves nothing so much as the person who lives with wisdom.” Again, context matters.

I bring this up because today we have a passage about God’s forgiveness. In the story Jesus tells, a young man basically tells his dad, “I wish you were dead, now give me my inheritance.” When the young man spends all of his money and ends up penniless, he goes home, begging his father’s forgiveness, and his father runs out to him, embracing him, and throwing a party because he came back. From that story, God’s forgiveness seems pretty vast and unending. 

Last week, however, I heard in a Bible study someone say that if you are a Christian and you turn away from Jesus, you can’t be forgiven of that. There’s no way to come back to Jesus if you have ever turned away. 

That is not our belief in the church. If you turn away from Jesus, yes, you can come back. That’s the whole idea of repentance. That’s what Jesus was showing us in the story he told. So, where have we gotten this idea that you can’t come back to Jesus if you are a Christian who has rejected Jesus? Well, this idea comes from scripture, but it comes from scripture without context.

See, in Hebrews 6:4-6, the writer says, “it is impossible to restore again to repentance those who have once been enlightened, and have tasted the heavenly gift, and have shared in the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come, and then have fallen away, since on their own they are crucifying again the Son of God and are holding him up to contempt.” Well, that seems pretty clear. If you believe in Jesus, and then you stop believing in Jesus, you cannot return to a belief in Jesus, and you cannot be forgiven. 

What about the context, though? 

The writer of Hebrews is writing to a whole church, a large group of Jewish Christians, and it seems as though this church is beginning to lose their faith in Jesus, wanting to continue in their Jewish faith apart from Jesus. The writer is trying to convince them that Jesus really is the way to go, and he writes about Jesus in a very Jewish way. He compares Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross to the Jewish animal sacrifices on the altar. He talks about Jesus’ priesthood in the context of the Jewish priesthood. Additionally, he writes about turning away from Jesus in the context of the people of Israel turning away from God throughout the scriptures. 

Remember, he writes, how Israel would forsake God and God would forsake them until the next generation would return to God? So, he’s writing to them about Jesus in the same way, and yeah, he’s threatening them a little, but that threat is written to them for the purpose of keeping them from turning away from Jesus. The writer of Hebrews’ words aren’t a forever truth to Christians that if you believe in Jesus and then stop believing in Jesus, you can never be forgiven. 

Such a belief, that God can’t or won’t forgive you for turning away from Jesus, is in conflict with other parts of scripture, like James 5:19-20. “My brothers and sisters, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and is brought back by another, you should know that whoever brings back a sinner from wandering will save the sinner’s soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.” James states very clearly that if you turn away from Jesus, you can turn back. 

The thought that you can’t be forgiven if you turn away from Jesus is also in conflict with the overall narrative of Scripture. The story of scripture is of God creating us, loving us, and constantly reaching out to us to heal us and guide us back to him. Grace, and love, repentance, and forgiveness are the themes of Scripture. 

Maybe that’s why Jesus taught about God’s forgiveness, over and over again. Jesus taught about God’s forgiveness in the story he told of the young man wanted his father dead, took and wasted his inheritance, and then came back penniless and filthy, begging for his father’s forgiveness. His father forgave him instantly, and then his older brother complained.

“He doesn’t deserve it,” the brother complained. “He turned away from you, while I’ve been here with you the whole time; he should never be forgiven.” When we start saying that folks can’t repent if they turn away from Jesus, we start sounding like the older brother in the story, complaining how unfair it is, that forgiveness should only be for those who deserve it.

Well, that definitely sounds like people claiming forgiveness for themselves, while also saying others are beyond God’s forgiveness. The religious leaders in Jesus’ day seemed to be claiming the same thing when they got upset with Jesus for hanging out with sinners. “Those are the wrong sorts of people. God doesn’t like them!” They seemed to think. So, Jesus told the story of forgiveness. 

God forgives, whether we want others to be forgiven or not. God forgives not just those who deserve it. God forgives those who need it. We all need the healing of forgiveness. So, God calls us to repent, because we need that too. 

How often do we hear repentance expressed as a threat, as if the point of repentance is to appease God’s anger. “Yeah, it’s time to repent. I gotta get God off my back again.” Such thoughts forget that the purpose of repentance is our healing and wholeness. We repent because we need it for our healing. Turn away from things that are causing harm. After all, we only repent of things that are harmful to ourselves and others. 

So, whatever else you’ve heard about repentance, whatever rules you’ve heard about God’s forgiveness, try setting aside those rules made by bits of scripture taken out of context, and remember instead the story Jesus told. A young man said, “Dad, I wish you were dead, because I want my inheritance now. Gimme my money. The dad did, and the kid left, only to return filthy and penniless, begging forgiveness, and his father ran to him, blessing him and forgiving him. 

God forgives. Over and over again. God forgives us. Whatever it is, however, many times it is, God keeps inviting us to repent, to turn away from ways that are causing harm and return to God’s will and God’s ways. Jesus invites all to return and receive God’s forgiveness, not just those who deserve it, but those who need it. 

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.

Do You Feel Particularly Saved?

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
March 16, 2025
2 Lent, C
Philippians 3:17-4:1
Psalm 27
Luke 13:31-35

“Run, Jesus! Run for your life! Herod’s trying to kill you!” The Pharisees warned Jesus, and Jesus replied, “Aww, y’all are so cute.” That’s not an exact quote, a little poetic license, but the idea is there. The Pharisees were almost certainly lying to Jesus. They were the ones who wanted Jesus to stop his preaching, not Herod. Even when Jesus was arrested, Herod saw Jesus as a curiosity and sent him back to Pilate for judgment. 

So, the Pharisees wanted Jesus to stop preaching, they gave a B.S. death threat to get him to quit, and Jesus saw right through their lie, calling their bluff, saying essentially, “If Herod wants to kill me, here’s where I’ll be, and I’m not going to stop.” That much they understood. What they probably didn’t understand was that Jesus was telling them, “Not to worry, I am going to be killed shortly after I ride into Jerusalem.”

Jesus knew that continuing on with his preaching and healing ministry was going to get him killed, and yet, he persisted. He went to the cross, not hiding from it, knowing that his teaching and way of life was the very thing that was going to get him killed. He continued on, accepting the cross, rather than living as an enemy of the cross.

That’s how Paul referred to people who wouldn’t live according to the ways and teaching of Jesus, “enemies of the cross.” “Their minds are set on earthly things,” Paul wrote. The whole idea of the cross, of personal suffering for the sake of others is beyond them. So, while they may give to others, they won’t do so if it brings any personal suffering. 

“Take up your cross,” Jesus said. “Lose your life for my sake.” That doesn’t just mean physical death. Give up your egos. Give up our need to be right. Give up your need to be justified, compensated, avenged. Let those things go, seek God’s will, and say, “Father, forgive them.”

Living as an enemy of the cross, on the other hand, means choosing one’s own power to force one’s way in the world. Had Jesus been an enemy of the cross, he would have unleashed all the power of God to destroy those who would have killed him. Had be been an enemy of the cross, Jesus would have denied forgiveness and chosen wrath. Rather than forgive all, he would have chosen to justify himself and his way by condemning all who did not live according to his way. I’m pretty sure that would have been most, if not all of us. 

As an enemy of the cross, Jesus would have used his power to gain more power and still more power, not serving the poor and those in need, but punishing those who did not. As an enemy of the cross, he would not have made himself friends with sinners, but he would have joined with those who considered themselves righteous, and he would have joined in their self-righteous glory. He would have stayed in an ivory tower, looking down upon the lowly with scorn. As an enemy of the cross, Jesus would have considered things like empathy for other people a weakness, and weakness is something an enemy of the cross cannot abide.

An enemy of the cross would follow the temptations of the Devil, choosing power over others, forcing one’s will and one’s way on others. Even if that way is the way of Jesus, forcing that way on others is not the way of Jesus. Folks in the church did that to the indigenous people of this land, likely thinking that the indigenous people were enemies of the cross, never realizing that by forcing Christianity, they themselves were living as enemies of the cross. Might makes right? Not according to the way of Jesus. Might makes right is an enemy of the cross, and the way of an enemy of the cross leads to destruction.

Even with faith in Jesus, the way of an enemy of the cross leads to destruction. Even with faith in Jesus, the way of might makes right leads to destruction. Even with faith in Jesus, the way of coercion and forcing one’s will on others leads to destruction. Even with faith in Jesus, looking down upon the lowly and rejecting empathy leads to destruction.

Paul was clear in his letters, as was Jesus in his teaching, that faith, without the way of the cross, is dead. James actually wrote the words, “Faith without works is dead,” but you can see the truth of those words throughout Paul’s writing and Jesus’ teaching. 

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord’, will enter the kingdom of heaven,” Jesus said, “but only one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” (Matthew 7:21) “Imitate me,” Paul wrote, “and observe those who live according to the example you have in us.” (Philippians 3:17)

Our faith in Jesus is lovely and good, but without following Jesus’ way of life, our faith withers. Discipleship, walking in the way of Jesus is what give our faith life to transform our lives and the lives of those around us. 

Does that mean shouting at others about our faith? Nope. Loving, forgiving, helping, that is the way of Jesus, the way of the cross. When we follow the way of the cross, we give up our power and live as servants. 

Living as servants, following the way of the cross when we see so much in the world that needs fixing. Overcome by it all, we may find ourselves alone shouting into the darkness. We may find ourselves being tempted as Jesus was, seeking power to force our will on others, but that is living as an enemy of the cross. We shout in the darkness when we are overcome by the problems in the world, and then we join with others, building one another up in love. 

We leave our despair at the foot of the cross and accept the death that the cross brings. The many deaths that happen in our lives: the death of might makes right; the death of coercion and force; the death of scorn for others; even one day, our physical deaths. We accept the way of the cross, and we find salvation, dwelling under the shelter of Jesus wings, gathering us as a hen gathers her chicks. Salvation, dwelling together under Jesus wings, dwelling forever the in peace, love, and unity of God. That is the way of the cross.

Living as an enemy of the cross, is a life that is also seeking salvation, but it is a life of anger, a life of wrath, a life of fear. Living as an enemy of the cross is a life of choosing to get yours over others. To hell with anyone else, I’m gonna get mine. 

In times of following that path of “I’m gonna get mine,” do you feel particularly saved?

Do you, instead, feel alone and even more fearful of losing what you have?

That’s what the Pharisees felt, afraid of losing what they had, and so they wanted to silence Jesus. Jesus said, “No, I choose the way of the cross,” and Jesus invites us to live the way of the cross as well. Letting go our fears, accepting our many deaths, and joining with others in love, we find shelter in the shadow of Jesus’ wings, as he gathers us like a mother hen gathering her chicks.