"In This Moment, Heal."

There is something very special about the word 'heal.' It is both passive and active at the same time.

Heal. Be Healed.

Heal. Be a Healer.


Every day, I find myself thinking about the agency of this word. I don't mean that I sit around, parsing out its grammatical forms into passive and active subcategories. I simply mean that I have entered a period of time in which I am intentionally conscious about being a healed person and living as a healer.

It has worked its way into my spiritual practice of meditation.

In this moment, heal. . .

In this moment, heal. . .

In this moment, heal. . .

It has become my mantra.

I am a wordy person. Some have suggested to me that my mind and body need non-verbal, non-cognitive ways to heal and grow. So I meditate. I breathe that mantra, and I find myself praying through images. I find myself interceding through relationships.

I visualize the day that has passed. I think about what I have received. I breathe through these receiving moments, and I meditate from gratitude.

In this moment, heal. . .

In this moment, heal. . .

Receive what was good from this particular moment you experienced.

That visualization turns into a prayer. What would it be like if I hadn't experienced moments like these?

What if I didn't have a bed? Who doesn't have a bed?

What if I didn't have a person to wake up next to? Who is lonely?

What if I didn't have food for breakfast? Who wakes up to empty cupboards?

In this moment, heal. . .

In this moment, heal. . .

Live as a healer, Renée. Live fully as a Being-Healed Healer.

My questions aren't words for me in the meditation. They are images. Some are past images. Some are imaginative, future images.

This meditation sends me into my day, reminding myself again and again:

In this moment, heal. . .

In this moment, heal. . .

I begin to look for healing to find me and call me in every moment.

Who knew that healing could be so lived and breathed?

A Little Excessive?

Check this out.

Our Softball Game: Holy Smokes!

Wow.

Wow, Wow, Wow.

We didn't win our Intramural Game last night, but we came really close! And it was the best playing we have ever done. Way to go, Barcodes!

The final score was 14-9. Can you believe we scored 9 runs? And in the B League, no less. Way to go!

Sermon: Accompanying One Another

Luke 10:25-37

Here’s a situation we’ve all encountered: We’re walking down the street. Minding our own business, right? Maybe we’ve been shopping. Maybe we’ve just had a great lunch. Mmh. . . now that was some pastrami. . . Our stomachs gurgle just thinking about it. Or maybe we’ve done none of these. Maybe we’re simply taking a walk. I mean, come on! Who needs to consume things to have a good time? We’re just out here to enjoy the sunshine. Well, whatever we’ve been doing, we’re on our way home. We’re satisfied. We’ve had a great day. Now, it’s time to go home and relax.

Only wait. Who’s that? We see someone ahead of us who’s coming closer. We don’t think too much about it. But we notice him. After all, he does look a bit different than the rest of the people on the street. His brown hair is long and greasy. We wouldn’t say that he has a beard exactly, but he hasn’t shaven in a long time. In fact, his scraggly, unshaven facial hair looks a bit uneven. He’s wearing a ragged flannel shirt. “It’s too hot for that,” we think. His stonewashed jeans are dirty and he’s limping a little. . .

Now we don’t think too much about it. But we notice him. “Hmm, that’s sad” we think. Our mind shifts to the rest of the day. We think about our favorite t.v. show. It’s coming on in an hour! And just as we imagine sitting back in front of the tube with an ice cold glass of lemonade, we notice the man again. Our eyes suddenly catch his. We didn’t plan that. It just happened. “Look down!” we think instinctively. “He’s trying to make eye contact with us!”

“Hey, can you spare some change?”

Can you spare some change? That’s a simple question. But in an instant, our neurons start firing and our mind starts racing through a myriad of ways to answer the question. In one split second, we’re having a long conversation with ourselves.

“Well, I have a $5 bill. Maybe I should give him that. Wouldn’t that be the Christian thing to do?”

“But wait a second. I don’t even know this guy! What if he’s just going to take my five dollars to the liquor store and cash in? Or what if he buys drugs with it? No, no, I better not. . .”

“There are plenty of agencies that can help him. Maybe my five dollars would be better spent there.”

“But how do I know that he’s going to waste my money? Shouldn’t I take the risk anyway? What if he’s really hungry right now? No agency is going to help him in the next hour. What would Jesus do? Yeah, yeah. . . I think I’ll give him the money.”

“Oh wait. My $5 bill is in my wallet. What if I pull out my wallet and this guy jets off with it! I better not.”

“Or, I know! I don’t even have to give this guy money!. He looks like a pastrami kind of guy! I could buy him a sandwich.”

“But wait a minute. I’m not his Mommy! Wouldn’t it be humiliating for me to accompany this guy just so he can get a bite to eat? Shouldn’t I at least grant this guy enough dignity to choose where he eats?”

“Geez, I don’t know. . .”

This entire conversation occurs in no time at all. “Um, sure,” we say. We fumble about and give the man five dollars. We did it. We answered the question. Time to go home.

Now, in a sermon at Mo Ranch, Ben, our previous Campus Minister, described a typical scenario just like this one. And he made an observation about the aftermath. Our conversation with ourselves isn’t usually over when we walk away. We’re still asking ourselves questions. He’s right. We ask, “Well, did I do the right thing? Did I do what God would want me to do? Was it right for me to give the money? Did I meet my obligation?”

Meeting the obligation. This is something we think about often – not just in this scenario but in many scenarios. What’s the right thing to do in this situation or in that situation? We constantly ask ourselves questions like these. We’re always calculating and shifting our ethical checklist. Scenerio X. Hmm. . .let me see here. We look at our grid. Oh, of course, do this! Now, I’m obviously making fun of us. But we do think about obligations a lot. What are our obligations to people? After all, we all want to act ethically, and we want to feel like we’re ethical people!

Could it be that the lawyer in our gospel story was thinking just like we are? “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” What must I do? What’s the obligation? When do I know that I’ve done the right thing? We all ask variations of the lawyer’s question. Jesus asked him what’s written in the law, and that’s a question the lawyer probably felt pretty good about. After all, he was a law kind of guy. He gave the perfect Sunday School answer: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Ding, ding, ding! Right answer! Jesus seemed pleased with it. But the lawyer wanted to know what law’s implications are. What are the obligations behind loving your God and your neighbor? Come on, Jesus. Spell it out for me! Tell me how to form that ethical checklist! Help me know exactly what to do so I can leave feeling good about myself at the end of the day! Hmm. . . myself. Is that what this is about?

The scripture says that this particular lawyer wanted to justify himself. He wanted to know that he had met his obligation. “And who is my neighbor?” That’s an interesting question, isn’t it?. Maybe asking “Who is my neighbor?” is really another way of asking, “Who isn’t my neighbor?” How far to my obligations stretch? This far? This far? How far do I really have to go? When do I know that I’m off the hook?

And then Jesus told an absurd story. It wasn’t just surprising. It was disturbing. It was completely offensive. It crossed the line of social decency entirely. Now we can’t get there completely, of course, but we can try to put ourselves into the position of the first hearers.

Jesus told them that a man was traveling on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. His audience would have known that this was a dangerous road. Their ears would have pricked up just at that. It was an immensely steep road, and on top of this, anyone could be easily attacked there. And that’s exactly what happened to the man. He was completely violated by a band of robbers. Stripped. Beaten. Left for Half-Dead. This was a tragedy. It was a grave injustice. Jesus’ hearers would have known it. Perhaps, they would have felt it.

Now they may have known this road was dangerous, but Jesus’ story played their every expectation. They heard him say this: “Now by chance a priest was going down that road.”

“Oh, this must be the point of the story. Jesus had been asking about the law. The priest was responsible for that. He was a law guy too. The law instructs him help this man.”

But “he passed him by on the other side.”

“What? Jesus, that doesn’t make any sense. He’s a priest – a religious authority! Why wouldn’t he help?”

And then Jesus told them that a Levite came down the road.

“ Hmm. . .well maybe this guy will help.”

But he passed by the other side too.

“Now wait a second! A Levite? He was responsible for helping in the temple! What do you mean he wouldn’t stop? The law instructs him to help. Why didn’t he?”

And then, the bombshell. The offensive detail. A Samaritan came down the road, and when he saw the man, he took pity on him. He didn’t pass by. He bandaged his wounds. He put him on his own animal and took him to an inn. Then he left extra money there. “What? A Sa---!”

Perhaps Jesus’ first audience wouldn’t even let the word “Samaritan” form in their minds. The 1st century Jews and the 1st century Samaritans hated each other with no small intensity. Why did they hate each other so much? This rivalry stretched back oh, I don’t know. .. about 700 years! Can you imagine? 700 years? About 700 years ago, the land was split into the Northern Kingdom of Israel and the Southern Kingdom of Judah. Assyria attacked the Northern Kingdom, and when they did, they took many Jews away. They left the others behind. Then the Assyrians put other captives in the land, captives from all the surrounding territories they had conquered. The Jews who were still there married these foreign captives and started families with them. For this reason, the Jews in the South considered their progeny, the Samaritans to be “Half-Jews.” So, they hated them, and the Samaritans hated them back. It went both ways. They wouldn’t worship together. They wouldn’t eat together. You better believe they wouldn’t be caught dead – or in this case half-dead – with a Samaritan. What on earth was Jesus trying to do in this story?

And speaking of that, what on earth was the Samaritan trying to do? He was putting himself completely at risk. How did he know that some robbers weren’t going to come for him? How did he know that some other Jews wouldn’t see one of their own on his animal and think that he hurt this naked, beaten, half-dead man himself? He knew he wasn’t safe.

Society told him that he no obligation to this man. None whatsoever. And yet he took the risk. He took responsibility. He walked alongside this hurting, Jewish man. He accompanied him – not only literally, on the road itself – but in the pain itself. He took responsibility for something – someone -- whom society would have never told him he was responsible for.

Now Jesus had a question: “Which one of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The story was so absurd, so offensive, that the lawyer couldn’t even speak the true neighbor’s name. “Samaritan” couldn’t come out of his mouth. He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said, “Go and do likewise.”

Jesus says, “Go and do likewise.” Now let’s think about it for a minute. How offensive! What if the story went like this? A man was stripped, beaten, and left half-dead by a band of robbers. By some chance, a Presbyterian minister came and saw the man. But the minister passed him by. After all, the church bake sale was going on and there was a sermon to write. Then a nun came by. Well, she needed to attend to her prayers so she left him there. Then an Al-Qaida Operative came by, and when he saw the man, he had pity on him. He bandaged him, put him in his own car, and took him to a hotel. He left money for him at the hotel, and he went on his way. . Do we see how offensive this would have been?!? Which one of these was the neighbor? Would we have wanted to say, “Um, let’s see. . .the Al-Qaida Operative?” Of course not! And yet, we’re told, “Go and do likewise.” “Be like that Samaritan.”

“Go and do likewise.” How big is our circle? Who are we responsible toward? Our family? Our church? Our nation? What’s our obligation? See, we get caught up in obligation language. Let’s think about the scenario we started with. When a man on the street asks us for money, we leave asking ourselves plenty of questions. Did I do the right thing? Did I meet my obligation?

I’ll pass on what Ben said at Mo Ranch. Every time we ask ourselves questions like these, we’re really concerned with ourselves. We’re concerned with being justified. We want to feel good at the end of the day. But what if, with God’s help, we can learn to ask different questions – better questions – questions which aren’t centered completely on ourselves and our “right” status? Maybe it’s not ultimately about giving the money or not. Instead of walking away saying, “Did I do the right thing?” what if we asked, “How can I be bound up together with this man, this neighbor of mine, as I enter into the larger human struggle which is poverty?” We don’t go away lauding ourselves. We go away feeling called to live into the reality of who we are and Whose we are. We belong to God. That man belongs to God. If both of these things are true, we belong together.

The truth is, moments for responsibility usually find us. They grab us. It may be a man who asks us for money on the street. Or it could be a person who needs a safe place. We invite them into our church, or we invite them into the life of our family. It could be that news story that keeps getting our attention again and again, and now we feel like we can’t leave it alone. What if we’re called to take responsibility toward people whom culture and society say we aren’t responsible? What if we’re called to take responsibility toward people for whom we have no societal obligation?

“Now wait a minute!” we might say. ”We can’t do everything. If the circle gets wider and wider, aren’t we just putting heavier and heavier loads on ourselves? Where’s the grace in that?” No, that can’t be it at all. What we need is a paradigm shift all together! It’s not about doing more things for more people. It’s not about our obligations getting bigger. It’s not about obligation at all. It’s about being with each other. It’s about being for each other. It’s about accompanying people – not just doing things for them. It’s about accompanying them in their struggle. It’s saying, “Your struggle is my struggle too.” And we don’t do this on our own. We do it because God accompanies us! Isn’t that a huge part of what love is – accompanying one another? We’re stepping into what God is already doing with us and for us – with others and for others! What if we left here thinking about love in a new way?

“For God so accompanied the world that he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.”

“Accompanying is patient. . . accompanying is kind. . . Accompanying keeps no record of wrongs. . . Accompanying bears all things.”

“Beloved, since God so accompanied us, we also ought to accompany one another.”

Accompanying. With each other. For each other. It’s not obligation. It’s orientation – orientation toward others. It’s about entering their struggle and calling it our own. That’s love.

“Go and do likewise.”

- Renée Roederer, Campus Minister

Salida or Bust!

What a goofy phrase. . . Does that mean we go to Salida, or we just blow up?

No blowing up, here. We're on our way to Colorado!!!

We're! On! The! Brink! (A Weird Cheer, I Know. . .) of Spring Break!

Hmm. . . anyone wonder why this picture represents Spring Break? Get some sleep before the drive to Salida, Colorado!

Seriously. Very important.

Whether you're skiing or whether you're living it up somewhere else, have a fantastic Spring Break! We look forward to hearing highlights when you return. Have fun, and be safe!

Irish Wristwatchingly Yours,
Renee

Merrit Writes about Admissions: The Top Ten Percent Factor

As many of you know, the University of Texas has tried to increase diversity on campus by admitting students who graduate in the top ten percent of their high school classes. This has been advantageous for some and difficult for others.

Our very own Merrit Martin writes a column for the Daily Texan, discussing recent developments in this standard and giving her opinion on the changes.

Theology Corner: Elect For One Another (Part 2) - Jesus Christ as Horizontal Mediator?

Two years ago, I found myself sitting in a pew, taking in all my surroundings. I was at the Gathering, the evening worship service at Sojourn Community Church in Louisville. I had been there years before. Several of my friends helped start the church right after they graduated from high school. But it had been a long time. There were many things I loved about this church. The people met in community groups throughout the week. They were dedicated to representing the Highlands, the area of the city where they were located. They were also very committed to being a safe place for people to ask questions. I had remarked to some friends that their Sunday worship was the first service I had attended which might be categorized as a "seeker service" without dumbing down the message of what they were saying.

But as I attended the service for the first time that summer, what I loved most was watching the people take communion together. After the pastor broke the bread and poured the wine, people came forward from their seats when they were ready. As they formed two lines, I remember being very moved when I saw so many different types of people together. There were many young people -- both high school age and college age -- who were not dressed as typical "churchgoers." There were older people also. There were people with families. There were a few people wearing all leather. They were the bikers who frequent the church. There was even a guy with a pink mohawk. And as I watched them all, I had to ask myself a few questions: Where else could I possibly find all of these people in the same place? What did they have in common? I concluded that they had very little in common except their faith in Jesus Christ, and yet, because of this connection, they were enabled to have everything in common, including the bread and wine they were receiving.

Jesus Christ as the Horizontal Mediator
So often, in theology-speak, we hear that Jesus Christ serves as a "Mediator" between human beings and God. Now we might ask, what is meant by "mediation?" If we do ask it, we will find that Christians have nuanced such an idea in various forms of language. From an early century, we encounter what might have been a hymn in the early church: "For there is one God; there is also one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus, himself human, who gave himself a ransom -- this was attested at the right time." (1 Tim. 2:5-6). We also hear that Jesus Christ serves as humanity's high priest, and "for this reason, he is the mediator of a new covenant." (Heb. 9:15).

Throughout Christian history, people have added their voices to such interpretations. Their language takes nuances as well: "Jesus Christ serves as the Mediator between God and humanity because he is fully human and fully divine." "Jesus Christ serves as the Mediator between God and humanity because his life, death, and resurrection set right what has been broken between them." "Jesus Christ serves as the Mediator between God and humanity because he acts as a bridge, allowing human beings to have access to God." All of this Christian language has nuances, but it seems to have a common theme. Jesus Christ is a Mediator on a vertical plane. He is a "boundary" between human beings and God, making communication and communion a reality between them.

And in light of the questions I raised yesterday, we might want to ask a few more: Could it be that Jesus Christ is a "Horizontal" Mediator as well? Could it be that Jesus Christ serves not only as a Mediator between human beings and God, but also between human beings and human beings? Does he serve as a Mediator because he is fully human? Does he serve as a Mediator because his life, death, and resurrection set right what is broken between human beings? Does he serve as a Mediator because he acts as a bridge, allowing human beings to have true access to one another? Perhaps he is a "boundary" between human beings and human beings, making communication and communion a reality between them. If this is all true, what implications does it have for what I termed "Election on a Horizontal Plane?"

Jesus Christ as the Impenetrable Boundary
Jesus Christ stands between human beings, and for this reason, some theologians have said that there is no such thing as a direct relationship. As the Horizontal Mediator, Jesus Christ is himself the impenetrable boundary between people. This means that individuals in relationships are not ultimately accountable to each other but to Jesus Christ. There is a potential danger here, of course. Lest we think this means we are not responsible toward one another because we are only accountable to Jesus Christ, we have to think again! We are responsible toward each other precisely because we are accountable to Jesus Christ. In this theology, there is no such thing as a direct relationship. I am accountable to Jesus Christ. For this reason, I have no right to exert power over another. I have no right to push another beyond his or her limits. I have no right to claim ownership of another human being. I have no right to treat another human being as my possession. And, no one has the right to do any of these things to me. I belong to Jesus Christ as does each person in relationship with me. In this theological idea, Jesus Christ stands between us. There is no such thing as a direct relationship. I see some potential problems in this type of thinking, but for Christians, it does make a claim that Jesus is the Lord of every relationship, and every interaction goes through him. Thus, if we were to think through this theological lens, we would have to think more deliberately about how we treat others.

So, is it possible to elect one another on a horizontal plane? I have raised the conviction that we ought to be responsible toward people whom culture and society tell us we aren't responsible. I have said that we should move beyond thinking in terms of obligation and start accompanying people and loving people deeply for who they are. But can we be bold enough to say that we can "elect" people? Really? We fail so often. Isn't it scary to even consider pledging ourselves to others, knowing that we will fail them? Can we be so bold? Do we even have the power to do such a thing? Is this even possible?

I think the answer is a profound no and a profound yes. We cannot elect others on our own, and no one has his/her own power to elect us. There is such a thing as election on a horizontal plane, but it is entirely contingent upon election's vertical dimension. Our pledge toward others is rooted in God's pledge to us. Christ elects our election of others! He calls elected relationships into being! We aren't playing God when we elect others. We may shirk our duty to be responsible toward others, but we don't have the power make horizontal election happen. We are simply stepping into a called reality. Jesus Christ is Initiator of our horizontal election.

Therefore, we are not the Lord of those we elect. We are not "with and for" others in order to gain them for ourselves. We elect others for Christ's purposes -- to love. But a good question is worth asking: How do we determine what Christ's purposes are when we are so fallible? What are Christ's purposes for our relationships? What are Christ's purposes for our election of others? Is it possible to know? I think this is what intercessory prayer might be about. We are sure to make mistakes, but once again, we can give thanks that Jesus Christ stands as a Mediator, a boundary between human beings, for he himself demonstrates what it means to really be human. We enter into prayer, asking the One who wills our horizontal election about those purposes. Certainly, we do this with bowed heads and closed eyes. But we also do it in our mindfulness of one another. Every time we think of those to whom we're called, we have the opportunity to lift their needs, known and unknown to us, to the One who has made the greatest pledge to them. And we ask how we can become concrete expressions of God's pledge as we enter into it, pledging ourselves. When we enter into intercessory prayer -- through bowed heads or mindfulness -- we listen to the Initiator of the relationship. He is the one who knows the needs. We never know how we might be the answer to the prayers of others. Perhaps Christ hears the needs of one, and as Mediator, reveals them to another. Thank God that Jesus Christ is a boundary between us!

Jesus Christ as the "Barrierless" Boundary
"Jesus Christ stands between human beings, and for this reason, there is no such thing as a direct relationship." There is a certain level of separation inherent in such a statement. Yet this separation is not a barrier! Here is a paradox: It is precisely in their belonging to Jesus Christ - true humanity - that they completely belong to one another! This is no barrier at all! This is an opening possibility! Can we affirm that Jesus Christ is a Horizontal Mediator as a bridge, allowing human beings to have true access to one another? Yes! Jesus Christ is a "Barrierless" Boundary!

If we make the experience at Sojourn Community Church a microcosm of a larger reality, we will find that there is plenty that people do not have in common. People have a multitude of various experiences. They use different language. They espouse an array of worldviews. They don't look the same. There is plenty held in uncommon. And yet, in Jesus Christ they have shared humanity in common. He is the barrierless boundary! He brings them together. He calls them to elect one another. He calls them to share their humanity with one another.

I close with the words of Karl Barth: "We only have each other in Jesus Christ, but in Jesus Christ, we really have each other!"

-Renee

Theology Corner: Elect for One Another (Part 1)

In 2007, I was privileged to be on the staff of College Connection, a conference at Mo Ranch that turned out to be incredibly meaningful and memorable for everyone who was there. It was fun to watch the students bond so quickly. There were games upon games of volleyball, soccer, and ultimate frisbee. And yes, I lament, there were of course, energizers upon energizers.

More importantly, small groups led to significant discussions, and worship was powerful and unforgettable. All of these aspects became the foundational building blocks that made the conference wonderful, but as is so often true, sometimes it's possible to catch some meaningful unplanned encounters between the cracks.

Late one evening, I was exhausted and sitting in the Guest Lodge with many of the students. I overheard two of them asking Ben, another staff member, questions about what it means to be Presbyterian. I wasn't really participating, but when one of them asked, "So, what's predestination? What does predestination mean?" I started laughing. "How's he gonna answer that?" I thought. Predestination hasn't always been articulated in helpful ways within our tradition. But he had a wonderful way to answer the question. He went on to talk about God pledging to be God toward us, and he talked about who we are in relation to that pledge. Then to bring the idea home, he mentioned his daughter. He said, "She can act like she's not my daughter. She can refuse to talk to me or think about me. But here's what I say to that: 'I'm not going to let you not be my daughter!'" I thought it was a beautiful way to discuss what predestination means.

But does a statement like that have other types of implications? Can we think about election on a horizontal plane? Perhaps it's possible for us to pledge ourselves toward other people, and perhaps can we talk about who people are in relation to that pledge. What if we have the ability "elect" others?

Now, I'm not talking about throwing ourselves on other people. It's easy to do this when we feel a need to be needed. But I think "electing others" means something different altogether. It means that we make ourselves available -- not as "possibility" but "actuality." It means that we don't say, "Well, I'll be here if you need me," as in "I might be with you. It's up to you." It means that we pledge, "I am here. Even when you're unable to ask for me to be with you, I will be. I'm going to show up. And as much as it's up to me, I'm not going to let you go through life alone! I will be who I am called to be toward you." There's a big difference between being with one another potentially and actually.

A comment like, "I'll be here if you need me," may be the most appropriate statement if it means "I am still with you. You can count on me." But it's not "horizontal election" if we say it to feel good about ourselves: "Well, I said the right thing. I said I will be there. Nothing will happen, of course, because I'm waiting for the other person to act upon what I said to make it real. But I said what I needed to say. I performed my obligation. Now I'm off the hook. Now I can feel good about myself."

No, "horizontal election" means that we make it real. We actualize it. We show up. It's the complete opposite of obligation. It means that we make ourselves responsible toward people for whom culture and society say we're not responsible. It means that we live toward people for whom culture and society say we're not obligated. We do it because it is right and true. We do it because we're called to live in such a way. And we are called to do it in a way that we seek no gratification or laurels for ourselves in the process. We expect nothing in return. And yet we do gain something! We live into the reality of who we're created to be! We live alongside others, suffering and rising with them, watching them discover who they are. We watch them discover Whose they are. They belong to the One who says, "I'm not going to let you not be my child!"

The good news is that this way of loving moves way beyond the sphere of obligation.

The truth is, I don't want people to love me because they're obligated. I don't want people to love me because they're giving me a service. I don't want people to love me because it's their job or because they are obligated to play a role. I want people to be human with me and love me, warts and all. Forget the roles. Forget the paradigms. Be human with me. Stick around. Accompany me. Elect me. Don't let me not belong to you.

That is how I want to live! I have failed at it before, and I will fail at it again. But it's how I want to live. People have failed me before, and they will fail me again. But this is how I want them to live! Election is no small matter. It means that people pledge themselves toward one another to be with them long term. Of course, people can't always be physically present, but there is a way to be available toward others that doesn't even require physicality. It requires commitment. It requires steadfastness -- a journey for the long haul.

Perhaps this is the kind of love that God dreams for us.

- Renee

The Largest Zip-Lock Bag EVER!

I bet you've never seen a zip-lock bag THIS BIG!!!

If you need ski gear for the trip (which is only 4 days away!) please stop by Renee's office and look through this extra stuff.

Thanks to the Bridge Family and Catherine for donating!

Sermon: But Who Do You Say I Am?

Mark 8:27-28

But what about you? Who do you say that I am?

That’s quite a question, isn’t it? -- Who do you say that I am? But you know what’s amazing about it? That’s a question we get to answer with our very lives. Quite a question, quite an incredible opportunity.

It’s true. Who do you say that I am? It’s not just a question we give lip service to. Well, hopefully not. Maybe sometimes, if we’re honest. It’s a question that we answer daily in the way we live. Who is this Jesus? Who is this Jesus to you? That’s a question we embody, don’t we? Who do you say that Jesus is? What do you convey about him? What do you say with your very lives?

I suppose those questions could feel immensely overwhelming. Are you feeling uncomfortable yet? These questions make me feel uncomfortable. But instead of thinking of them as daunting, I would encourage us to think of them as an invitation. We’re invited to participate in the life of Christ – who he is. Think about it – you and me! – participating. We’re graced with the opportunity to plunge deeply into his identity, to bring questions of our own from our identity -- real, deep, sometimes, raw questions. We ask these into his very self. And in those questions, we get to be transformed in the process. We’re invited to journey into his life – not as solitary travelers going at it alone but as people who choose to walk together. We learn of Christ when we live as together the Body of Christ. That’s tremendous news. We learn of Christ when we live together as the Body of Christ.

Who do you say that I am? We’re on a life-long invitational journey to find out.

That’s an astounding invitation for us to have together.

I suppose people are coming up with all sorts of identities for Jesus all the time. Understandings about him are always swirling around us. And that’s not new. That’s been going on for centuries. Welcome to the church! The truth is, some of these identities have been profoundly liberating for people. Some have brought comfort, healing, renewal, and vision. And then others have seemed culturally relevant at the time (that’s what’s so scary about them) only to lead to distortion, oppression, war, and intense pain. I guess when we’re choosing words to understand Jesus, we’re stating our ultimate aims and we’re making claims about what has ultimate meaning for us. When we do that, we’re setting ourselves up for the ways we’ll follow, aren’t we? We do generally follow what has ultimate meaning for us. And I suppose it’s always good or us to reevaluate what has does ultimate meaning for us. As Jesus said, “Wherever your treasure is, there will be your heart also.” Who and what has ultimate meaning for us these days? Who and what do we choose to follow?

Imagine this scene: You walk into a board room and see a long table. Twelve business associates are surrounding it, quickly downing some coffee and perhaps a sweet donut before the Big Boss comes into the room and starts the meeting. A couple of them pull out their Blackberries – they’re analyzing their Convert Spreadsheets. “I hope the boss is happy with these,” one says to his neighbor. Another pulls out a wallet fat with cash. “Look at what I collected for our work!” In one short moment, they all shrink back and reveal a look of envy and insecurity. That colleague of theirs has the success they want. He’ll be in with the boss for sure. He’ll be ripe for a promotion.

They don’t have long to think about this because the Big Man himself enters the room. He’s clearly the one in charge. They all rise to their feet and watch him take the head place. Before them, in their midst, is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Before them is the one they serve – the one they follow - Jesus the CEO.

Yes! Can you imagine it? Jesus, the CEO. He knows who he is. He’s confident. He knows how to lead. He knows how to be productive – after all, isn’t that what matters the most these days? – being productive? Productivity! That’s the true mark of value, the way to make your identity worth something! He knows how to run an organization. He’s efficient, smart, powerful, and in charge. Jesus Christ – the CEO - everything we could want in a Lord!

Really? Really – Jesus the CEO? The scenario sounds ridiculous, but would you believe that a host of books have been written about just that? All you have to do is go on Amazon.com and do a search for “Jesus, CEO.” Here are some of the titles you’ll get: Jesus CEO: Using Ancient Wisdom for Visionary Leadership, Jesus, Entrepreneur: Using Ancient Wisdom to Launch and Live Your Dreams, Jesus, Life Coach: Learn from the Best, and Teach Your Team to Fish: Using Ancient Wisdom for Inspired Teamwork. Now to be fair, I haven’t read any of these books, and I think some of them are trying to outline ways that Jesus lived as a “servant leader.” But I have some concerns here, and I imagine you might too. Since when did Jesus ever come to us as revealed a CEO? And for that matter, since when did Jesus ever come to us in any type of power that society values? Instead of looking to Jesus for who he is – that is, letting him define himself and transform us – Instead of following him as people made in image of God, aren’t we so often trying to make God in our own image? Aren’t we trying to define Jesus according to what has ultimate meaning for us? I deeply hope that at the end of the day that power and wealth don’t ultimate meaning for us. I hope that Jesus sometimes reveals himself in opposition to who we want him to be. Thank God. Because sometimes we have a way of making Jesus who he isn’t.

And you know, we all do this in one way or another. We’re not alone. So did Peter. Peter – Peter, the Rock. Peter – the one who made an amazing confession. Peter – the disciple who was bold enough to say the truth. He heard that question. “But who do you say I am?” And he answered rightly. “You are the Messiah.”

Ding, ding, ding! He’s got it. He’s discovered it! Ta da! He’s got it! But if we were expecting rapturous applause and confetti to sprinkle suddenly all over the place, we were thinking wrong. Jesus has more to reveal about what kind of Messiah he will choose to be.

Can you imagine what this must sound like to Peter? He’s finally understood Jesus’ true identity, and then Jesus begins to say all sorts of things about himself that sound completely un-Messiah like. What? He will suffer many things? Wait a minute. What? He will be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and the scribes? He will be killed? No! That can’t be! That’s not my picture of a Messiah! He will rise again? What does that even mean?

No. No, none of this. Peter knows he has to do something. He has to make his vision match with who Jesus will choose to be. He takes Jesus aside. Peter rebukes Jesus. After all, Peter thinks he knows so much more about who Jesus really needs to be. But Jesus brings it all back into the open. Before the other disciples, he rebukes Peter. “Get behind me! You are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Peter was making Jesus into his own image of human power.

And then Jesus has some things to say – not only to his disciples – but to the crowd as well. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”

Okay. That’s kind of intense. What kind of Jesus can we discover from this passage? Is Jesus telling his followers to seek suffering? Is he telling them that suffering is good and redemptive and that we should chase after it? Should suffering have ultimate meaning for us?

I don’t think so. The gospel of Mark is full of examples of Jesus willfully choosing to heal and abolish suffering. I don’t think Jesus is glorifying suffering here. There are of conceptions of Jesus out there that do glorify his suffering. And as a result, these conceptions of Jesus sometimes teach others to endure suffering they shouldn’t have to endure.

But who do you say that I am? That question comes to us too, and perhaps we are called to proclaim something that sounds more like the gospel – something that sounds more like good news.

So let’s proclaim it. Let’s proclaim good news together. Who do you say that I am? Quite a question, quite an incredible opportunity. That’s a question we get to answer with our very lives.

Perhaps when Jesus says, “Those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it,” he’s teaching us to do something he would ultimately choose to do. I don’t believe that Jesus went to the cross to glorify some kind of holy suffering. That’s a conception of Jesus floating out there, but I don’t believe it. What I do believe is this: I do believe that Jesus was ultimate nailed to a cross because he loved so deeply and lived so radically that the powers around him couldn’t stand it. I don’t believe Jesus went to the cross because God called him to suffer. I believe Jesus was willing to suffer because God called him to love. There’s a difference there.

God called Jesus to give himself freely to love and human need – to lose himself in it. And if we’re going to follow Jesus, we’re be called to lose ourselves in the same way. We’re going to be called to shed the idols that have ultimate meaning for us – including some of the ways we view Jesus. We’re going to called to let go –to have faith, trust – and follow, even though we don’t quite understand everything about Jesus. We we’re going to called to let Jesus to reveal himself – that takes a lifetime. We’re going to be called to learn of Christ, living in the Body of Christ. Will you follow? Will we follow?

Who do you say that I am? Quite a question, quite an incredible opportunity. That’s a question we get to answer with our very lives.

- Renée Roederer, Campus Minister

Scripture for Sunday: Who Do You Say That I Am?

Mark 8:27-38

Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say that I am?’ And they answered him, ‘John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.’ He asked them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ Peter answered him, ‘You are the Messiah.’ And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, ‘Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel,* will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words* in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.’

Opportunity for Mission: Interfaith Hospitality Network!

Hey folks,

I'm writing to let you know about a neat volunteering opportunity that has been offered to our group.

The Interfaith Hospitality Network is a group of churches in the campus area that provide a place to stay for a few families who have been displaced from their homes. They need volunteers from these churches to supervise and then lock up in the morning. It's really easy; I did this last semester. You get plenty of sleep - you can bring a sleeping bag and crash on a couch.

University Presbyterian Church has delegated to our campus ministry group the following two dates:

Sunday, March 29th and Friday, April 3

The time commitment would be from 8:30 p.m. until 7:00 a.m. the next day. That is flexible, though, as long as there are always at least three of us there.

This is a good experience and you get a lot of volunteer hours in for minimal work. Let me know if you're interested. There will also be a sign-up sheet at evening worship at UPC.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me, Kathleen Fry, or Roscoe Overton. His email is rosoverton@grandecom.net.

Peace!

Lauron

Opportunity for Mission: The CROP Walk!

Hey there, Austin Agapeites! We have a great opportunity to participate in a fantastic event this weekend: The 31st Annual CROP Walk!

The CROP Walk is a fundraiser which helps organizations who are fighting hunger. 25%of the money goes to support local Austin organizations, and 75% supports the Church World Service, which sponsors the event. The organization builds interfaith and intercultural coalitions in 80 countries to help with hunger and poverty. You can look at their website at www.churchworldservice.org.

A group from UPC is going to walk at this event on Sunday! It is going to be held at Roy Guerrero Colorado River Park , and we’ll meet there at 2:00. The walk will be finished at 3:30. All along the walk, there are booths to educate us about hunger and poverty locally in Austin and around the world. It’s not too late to join the group!

Is anyone interested in walking? If so, you might want to make a donation. And even if you don’t walk, you can still donate!

Please e-mail Renee if you are interested: upccampus@upcaustin.org.

Deepening Our Faith: Spirituality Centers!

During this season of Lent, we are thinking of ways to deepen our personal faith and practices of spiritual disciplines at UPC. We invite you to join us!

We have a special opportunity for spiritual growth during the month of March. Every Wednesday night, there will be a dinner at 5:30. (You have to pre-pay $5 in advance for that). Then from 6:00-7:00, you are invited to go upstairs to the Youth Room to explore Spirituality Centers. There will be areas to engage in different types of prayer, study, art, and writing. It will be creative and an opportunity for you to explore the life of faith with those around you.

It begins tonight!

Sermon: When God's Vision Captures Our Own

Revelation 21:1-7
Romans 8:31-39

Okay, Question: What have we seen in the last week? What have we seen in the last seven days, since the last time we were all in one place – here in this church, for instance? A lot of time has passed. Seven days. That’s 168 hours to be exact. And preachers ought to know that kind of number. “Whether you’re ready or not, Sunday comes every 168 hours!” But really, what have we seen in that time? What sort of images have we encountered? If our eyes were cameras, can you imagine how many pictures they would have taken in the last 168 hours? I bet we would be astounded.

But maybe we don’t just see with our eyes. Maybe we see in other ways too. How about with our minds? What if we could have a list, a print-out, of every memory we thought about even briefly this week? Memories contain images too. Can you imagine how long that list would be? And then, what if we put all our lists into one collective mega-list? I bet it would be huge. And then, what if we could know how much time we had spent thinking about the past this week, our memories – what if we could know that too, down to the second? I bet we would be astounded.

Images of the past in our memories. . .images of the present, captured with our senses, perhaps captured with the camera which is our eye. . . Are there other types of images too – other ways of seeing, perceiving? How about with our imaginations? What if we could have a list, a print-out, of every image we’ve created this week as we’ve thought about what our future might look like? And then, what if we put all our lists into one collective mega-list? Again, I bet it would be huge. And then, what if we could know how much time we had spent thinking about the future, our projections in our imagination – what if we could know that too, down to the second? I bet we would be astounded.

We are image people. Images are all around us and within us. And images aren’t necessarily only what we see. They may be impressions or feelings that we experience or create. We’re constantly taking them in and evaluating their significance. Now, if we really were able to take in all those statistics I’ve mentioned from the last week, I have a feeling that the images on our enormous lists would be related in some way. After all, how many images of the future are connected to images of the past and present? How often do we project images of future scenarios within our imaginations which cause us all sorts of anxiety, maybe even terror, as we think about them? Many of these future scenarios played out in our imaginations are connected to the past, reformatted for our own present consideration. The truth is, sometimes we’re immensely afraid of reliving what we experienced in the past.

Now, I’ll tell you something kind of silly. Of all things in this universe that I could possibly afraid of, I have an immense phobia of daddy long legs! Really. Daddy long legs, of all things! They’re so harmless. They can’t do anything to hurt me! But then again, who said phobias have to be logical? Many times, they aren’t. Yeah, they’re harmless all right, but daddy long legs are so creepy. Their immensely long appendages are awkwardly feeling around in every direction. And if one is hanging onto a wall somewhere, and I have to pass that wall, I immediately imagine this creepy, yet harmless arachnid pouncing on me right there on the spot. Or if someone were to tell me that we were going on a walk in the woods and they warned me that there would be a lot of bugs, my imagination would immediately jump to images of my “favorite” creature of the woods. I wouldn’t let that keep me from walking, of course, but I could imagine some daddy long leg walking right over my foot or brushing my arm with one of its harmless, yet creepy legs. . .

For some reason, I’ve always been afraid of them. But a couple of years ago, my mother said something very interesting. “Renee, do you remember the time when we were camping – you were really young - and we went into that campground bathroom filled with hundreds of daddy long legs?” And as I sat there and thought, I realized, “YES!” I do remember that. I must have been about three years old, and I was terrified. Well, that’s interesting. So, my phobia works this way. Images of the past influence my hypothetical images of the future. (After all, who knows what those creepy daddy long legs are going to do to me?) And my images of the hypothetical future cause me to live in fear in the present. Those images capture my present. Interesting. All of these images are related.

But what happens when the images on our list – past, present, and future, aren’t harmless at all? What happens when they’re the complete opposite --absolutely harmful? I have a feeling that we would have many shared images on our collective mega-list from this week. There are plenty of images from the news channels to challenge us, to haunt us. There are often images of people whose lives are torn apart in war. There are images of people who have lived without food for so long that they’re literally starving. There are images of families who are experiencing foreclosure on their houses and college students who can no longer pay tuition bills.

We were much younger in 2001, but perhaps some of us remember the images of broken steel, concrete, and asphalt on 9-11. Images of destruction spilled over in every direction. Those images stick with us, and “harmful” begins to sound like a benign word in comparison with the reality. Those images are horrendous, terrifying, disastrous. They capture our present. They cause us to live into fear. And those images form themselves into words also, “How on earth could this happen? How could U.S. intelligence miss this? What would I have done if a member of my family was in that building or on one of those planes? Why do these things happen? God, if you’re so loving and so powerful, how could you possibly let this happen?”

And maybe the images on the news channels evoke other ones from our memory. Maybe we think about our own community too. Maybe we think about our friends who are struggling. Maybe we think about the street kids we find on the drag. Those images often form themselves into words: “Why?”

Or maybe we don’t even look at the news channels at all because all of these horrendous, terrifying, disastrous images become a flood in themselves. These collective images that everyone sees are too overwhelming because we have images from our own lives to deal with. Sometimes we have to force ourselves to watch the news. I sometimes want to look away so desperately. After all, I have enough stress in my own life to deal with. We all have images from the past, which influence images of our future in our own imagination, and those images of the future capture how we live in the present.

And what do we do on a Sunday like this one, when we bring all our lists of images – past memories, present sights, and future imaginings -- to God? We carried them in when we walked in the door. What do we do on a Sunday like this one when we bring that collective mega-list to God – the collective mega-list which has all our community’s images on it? We might pray for God to show us meaning in this list. We might want to gain meaning from the images we carry and imagine.

And then God gives us some of the most incredible images to take with us. God gives us images which form themselves into words – God’s own Word for us even tonight. “And I saw a new heaven and a new earth.” Those are John’s words, words of the past, words of the late 1st century -- John, the faithful disciple who was exiled on the island of Patmos for his faith. And though they are John’s words, God’s Word with a capital “W” is found within them. They’re God’s images given to John. And here we are today. God is still giving them to us. Through John’s eyes, we see them too. The New Jerusalem, the holy city, coming down from God. Through John’s ears, we hear the voice he heard. “See, the home of God is among mortals, he will dwell with them, they will be his peoples, and God himself with be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes.” Do we see it? Do we hear it? What sort of image is this? God making his home among mortals!

If we were to capture this image through John’s original Greek words, we would see that the text has some nuances to it. It’s a wonderful image. We could picture it through words like these: “Behold! See with your own eyes! The tabernacle of God is with people! He will tabernacle with them, and they will be his people!” What a picture! God setting up tent with human beings! Can you see it? And God is doing this right in the midst of our suffering – right in the midst of death, mourning, and crying. The same God who chooses to set up tent with us, comes so near to each one of us. God wipes away every tear from our eyes. God wipes away every tear from that camera of ours – that camera which has recorded innumerable images, images which we see again every day in our present. These are God’s images for us! These are God’s images of hope for our present!

And what other images do we receive on a Sunday like this one? How about our text from Romans? We see God’s unfailing love, even in the midst of the things which cause us the greatest suffering. Here’s a question worth repeating today. Here’s a question worth saying straight at those images which ravage us: “If God is for us, who is against us?” What an image! God has chosen to be for us! We didn’t choose that. God chose it, and if God has chosen to be for us and has chosen us to be God’s very own, what could possibly separate us from that love? God has chosen it! What about these images that the text mentions? Can they separate us from God’s love? I’m sure we can picture them. Hardship? Distress? Persecution? Famine? Nakedness? Peril? Sword? Can you picture them? No, none of these can separate us from the love of God! None of these can separate us from the God who willfully chooses to set up tent with us!

As Paul says, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” This is a love so expansive– so huge. It’s astounding! Nor anything else in all creation. . . what might those things be for us today? Can we see them? Could we say, “I am convinced that neither floods, nor disasters on 9-11, nor marital problems, nor struggles in our family, nor health problems that won’t leave, nor bills that can’t be paid, nor depression, nor anxieties, nor inadequacies, nor isolation, nor besetting sins can separate us from the love of God! Shall we continue? Neither lay-offs, nor unfulfilled hopes, nor unmet needs, nor unhealthy relationships! Neither alcoholism, nor racism, nor terrorism, nor any “ism” at all. Nothing can separate us from the love of God because God has chosen to love us! The forces and images of this world cannot revoke that love! God is forever setting up tent with us right in the midst of these forces – right in the midst of these images. “See! The home of God is among mortals!” These are God’s images for us! These are God’s images of hope for our present!

What would happen if God’s images accompanied the images we brought with us in the door? What would happen if we took them outside the door on our way home? What would happen if God’s vision captured our vision? On a Sunday like this one, we are encountered with images of hope. These are images of hope for our future. But these images aren’t simply confined to some distant future out there. They affect our present! They are hope for the future, yes, but they are also hope for now! It’s as if the future itself were reaching in and taking hold of the present. Horrendous, terrifying, disastrous images grab our attention, but we aren’t called to live into fear. We’re called to live into hope!

What can a life of hope look like in our community? Perhaps it can be a new way of envisioning the call of God during the season of Lent which has begun this week. Perhaps it is a recognition of the truth that God’s vision has captured our vision. It means we will continue to imagine images of hope for our world, living into those images. How will God’s vision continue to capture our vision in this season, and what will that mean for us, both in our individual lives and in our collective life of faith together? May we see with the eyes of faith. May we live into hope. May we live toward the one who sets up tent with us! Amen.

- Renée Roederer, Campus Minister