Romans 12:1-8
As the semester begins and routines start to fall back into place, I've found myself thinking a bit about the summer. If I were to think through a highlights reel of the last three months, I would come up with a lot of great moments, but one small, unexpected thing would emerge for me too: This summer, I became absolutely hooked on Joan of Arcadia. Have any of you ever watched that show?
It was on about two years ago, and it got canceled after its second season. I never watched it when it was actually running, but I remember it being on. It's about a high school teenager named Joan who has moved to a new town called Arcadia with her family. As soon as she starts school there, life gets turned upside down in a host of ways. God begins to appear regularly to her. Not an everyday occurrence, of course. But this doesn't happen in grand visions or swooping miracles. God simply appears to Joan in a variety of human forms: God is a high school boy, a little girl on a playground, or a lunch lady scooping mashed potatoes. God isn't cosmic and distant. God is very near -- deliberately appearing in the forms that Joan will understand. God speaks Joan's language on purpose.
And in many episodes, God gives Joan assignments. "Talk to this person." "Join the chess club." "Get a job at this bookstore." Usually Joan protests. These tasks are inconvenient. They aren't always what she wants to do. And in some ways, this is one of the best things about the show. Joan has a choice. God isn't booming thunderous commands from the sky. God is somehow nudging and calling. God is envisioning and dreaming. And God welcomes Joan into those dreams. Joan has the opportunity to exercise her choice -- her free will -- in ways that affect things.
So Joan acts on these assignments. And soon, they begin to have a ripple effect. They create important relationships, teach people to believe in their abilities, and give voice to deep human questions. And it doesn't happen in simple, easy, wrap-it-all-up kinds of ways. You know, "Joan does her assignment. The obvious change occurs, and poof! World peace ensues." Not quite. The show is a bit more complex than that. It deals with death, disability, sickness, and violence. It deals with a lot of complex subjects. But in the midst of all those things, Joan ultimately finds herself doing more than tasks. She ultimately finds herself investing her life into the life of others, and as she does this intentionally, she is changed and those around her are changed. Such a small nudge -- "Join the chess club" -- can affect a lot of things.
And I wonder if that has been true for us too. Clearly, our actions and our relationships ripple into a series of effects, creating more actions and more relationships. There is something completely connected about it all. And our text tonight seems to indicate something like that too.
It uses a lot of body language: "For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually, we are members of one another."
Well, that's churchy language. I think many of us have probably grown up hearing a lot of "Body of Christ" language like that. But what happens when it isn't just a series of words or theological ideas? What happens when it takes on flesh? What happens with the Body of Christ becomes specific -- when it isn't general, or cosmic, or distant? What happens when an interconnected community is near -- so near that it appears in forms that we can understand? So near that it's right in front of us? What happens when our sense of being connected speaks a language to us? What happens when it speaks to others and creates a ripple effect?
Well, those are important questions, and as we gather here tonight and start a new year, they are the type of questions that we might spend an entire school year exploring together. And speaking of ripples, what brought us here? What nudged us or called us? What was set in motion by others to bring us to this place? Who will we be, and how will we be, now that we have interacted together?
Some of us are here for the first time tonight. If you fall into that category, you might be wondering, "Who are these strange people? What will I learn here? Who can I be here?" Some of us are here, beginning our second, third, fourth, fifth, or sixth year. And we might be asking, "Who have we been? What can we envision now? What will we learn? What will we teach? How are we connected for the long haul?"
Those are good questions too. But really, what brought us here -- not just the general Sunday School answers that we feel we're supposed to give -- but the real, specific ways we found ourselves in this room or in this community? Maybe it was filling out an information form at orientation. Maybe someone invited you. Maybe someone spoke a kind word. Maybe you just saw the church building and wondered what goes on in here on a Sunday night.
It's interesting to think that such small actions of welcome can form an entire community. But it's certainly true. That has happened here. We are gathered here tonight because we have received the ripple effects of love and welcome from other people. And we are called to dedicate ourselves -- to present our body, our community -- as a living sacrifice. We are called to be an ongoing ministry of welcome.
As the school year starts, we may be wondering where to find God. We may be looking for cosmic displays and grandiose visions. But what if God can be found as we live in relationship with the lives around us? What if God can be found right here in Austin Agape? What would happen if we noticed?
Every Sunday, we celebrate communion here. As I think about these questions, one particular Sunday stands out in my mind. One Sunday, two of our servers came forward to give the bread and cup to everyone. When the first person came through the line, our servers did what they normally do. They quietly said, "The Body of Christ" and "The Cup of Salvation." But then, I had a chance to overhear a conversation. Amanda, one of the servers, turned to Laura Michelle, the other, and said, "Why do we always whisper it?" "I don't know," Laura Michelle answered. So for the rest of communion, they began to say it like they really believed it was true.
When I approached Amanda that night, I playfully said, "I want you to say it really loud." What followed initially made me laugh under my breath. Amanda said in the loudest voice you can have without shouting, "THE CUP OF SALVATION!" Now she didn't say it disrespectfully even though it was playful. She just said it really loudly. And it made me chuckle a bit at first. But when I sat back down, I thought, "Yeah. That's true." It seems that we're so often looking for salvation in big, cosmic light, neon-sign kinds of ways. But what if it's right in front of us. What if we need someone to get our attention to tell us and tell us loudly, "Look! Here! It's right in front of you! The Cup of Salvation! And I'm giving it to you!"
It might just be that God is at work in our community right here. And it might be that God will speak to us this year in and through the lives of the people we see every day. It might be that God will speak to us through each other.
So, a few more questions: What would happen if we brought our truest selves here? Who are we? Are we prophets, ministers, teachers, exhorters, givers, leaders, and people who show compassion? What do we love? What are we good at? Where are we called? How can we bring our truest selves to Bible Study, to lunches at the Union, to the UPC Food Pantry on Tuesday mornings?
How can we bring our truest selves to conversation, fellowship, and shared meals? How can we bring our truest selves by welcoming the stranger, by discerning direction, or by entering into prayer on behalf of others? And what would happen if we were formed together to do all of these things?
What are those little things nudging us these days? What if we brought them here and set them in motion together? We might make ripples that would have lasting effects. It might ripple to folks who will sign up at the 2012 Orientation.
If you are here for the first time, we need you. Your truest self -- we need you. You are a gift to us. We need you to bring all the places you've been and all the dreams you have. We will bring ours to you. It's like setting a table in some ways. And will will welcome others to that table. And perhaps God will meet us right there, right in the midst of community. "The Bread of Life" and "The Cup of Salvation." Right here. May that be true this year. Amen.
- Renée Roederer, Campus Minister
Posts
