Sermon: Turn-Around

Acts 9:1-20

Well, it certainly was dramatic. Can you imagine what happened on that Damascus Road? Saul had been breathing threats and murder against the people of the Way, those who were following Jesus of Nazareth, those who were proclaiming that Jesus had been resurrected from the grave. “Breathing threats and murder”. . . isn’t that an interesting phrase? Saul was so set on terror and destruction that it was as if he was inhaling them. And he was also exhaling them. Saul believed that the people of the Way were an affront to God and to the people of God. He was set out to quench their movement, and he didn’t seem to care who he harmed in the process.

I wonder what Saul and his companions were talking about on that road. . . I imagine that the men who came with him were inhaling and exhaling all kinds of anger on that day as well. Maybe they were talking about that rage they felt within them. Maybe they were silent, each with determination. Or maybe they were having casual conversation, talking about daily life or family. Then suddenly, everything changed.

Suddenly, everything changed. And it certainly was dramatic, wasn’t it? Saul experienced light, flashing and dancing all about him. Threats and murder within him must have melted into fear and confusion for himself and the others who were with him. And then, a voice – a voice that would change everything. A question becomes personal: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” “Who are you, Lord?” Even before he is aware of the identity behind the voice, Saul recognizes holiness. “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” Jesus, the Lord, is so with us, so with humanity, that when we are persecuted, and when we are persecuting others, Jesus is being persecuted. Saul didn’t have a chance to justify himself, or even to plead for forgiveness. Already Saul was elected, chosen, set apart for the work of Christ. Jesus tells him to go into the city where he will be told what to do. He temporarily loses his vision, but he is about to gain a new way of seeing God, the world, and himself. Wow, a dramatic turn around.

And this conversion was a game changer. Saul was on his way toward becoming Paul, one beloved and called by God. We’re never told in scripture why, when, or how Saul’s name is changed to Paul, but we can certainly see that Saul’s character, heart, and sense of mission are wildly changed. Saul becomes Paul, sent to bear Christ’s name before Gentiles – outsiders -kings, and the people of Israel. Saul was certainly called to do a radical 180. He will now proclaim the one he has persecuted.

And it really was quite a game changer, wasn’t it? Paul became a missionary, organizing and nurturing churches in far regions of the world, places vastly far away from where he grew up, especially in the first century, when people couldn’t simply learn about Greece, Macedonia, Rome, or other places by pulling up a Wikipedia page. He couldn’t travel by plane or train. He used ships. He walked on foot. And apart from his witness, the church – our church, other churches – would not be what it is today. The ripple effect from this experience on a Damascus road has spread far and broad. It continues to wash over us today, as we read and contemplate Paul’s pastoral letters to communities like the Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, and the Thessalonians. Yes, in this turn-around moment, God changed the world. God molded communities. God is molding us right now. So certainly, this mysterious, miraculous moment on a simple road to Damascus, affected history and shaped lives in a broad and sweeping way.

But beyond the dramatic and broad sweeping aspects of this story, what about some of the more subtle effects? God works inbetween the lines too, inbetween the major milestones, inbetween the major turn-arounds of our lives.

Poor Ananias. Can you imagine? Ananias hears the call of Christ to do something absolutely illogical. And it wasn’t just illogical. It was potentially dangerous. Saul had a reputation. Ananias realized what the consequences of his actions might be. Going to Saul, he was risking his future, his freedom, his safety. And he was risking the future, freedom, and safety of his Christian community as well.

And yes, in addition to being dangerous, this action was illogical. “Saul? Wait a minute. Saul? You want me to go and seek the man who has been seeking to kill us?!? And then you want me to identify myself as your follower and heal him? You want me to trust him? You want me to trust his words and intentions? You want me set him free, and simply trust that he is who you’ve named him to be?”

This call was dangerous and illogical enough for Ananias to question Jesus. But Jesus tells Ananias that he has visions larger and more incredible than Ananias can possibly wrap his mind around. He follows the call. He seeks out his enemy to heal him and send him in the right direction.

You know, it appears that sometimes, our conversions are connected. What I mean by that is that sometimes when others have had a ‘turn-around’ moment, we too are sent in another direction. We live in relationship. Our healing is bound up in the healing of others. Our conversions – our directions, our turn-around moments – are bound up in the conversions of others.

So Ananias is converted too. He seeks out Saul in the house of Judas, and he obeys. And I wonder if he too had a change of heart on that road. Did you notice the first thing Ananias says to the man who has been his enemy? Did you notice the first words out of his mouth?

“Brother Saul.” He addresses his former enemy as his brother. Saul’s conversion on the Road to Damascus was dramatic and beyond anything that you and I have experienced. But conversions aren’t always dramatic. Sometimes they are subtle. Sometimes God is working on the inside as much as God is working on the outside. Saul had a turn-around moment. So did Ananias.

And that leads to a question for us. We don’t see flashing light and audibly hear the voice of God on a regular basis. But because we believe in a Triune God who works intimately and immanently within our lives, we can believe that God is turning us around, sending us in new directions all the time. Here’s the question: How is God turning you around these days, and what directions are being envisioned for you to follow? And how is God turning us around as a community these days, and what directions are being envisioned for us to follow?

Sometimes, seemingly insignificant moments can send us in profoundly significant directions. Has that ever happened for you?

When I was 14 years old, I sat in a bright orange chair at a table I frequented five days a week. It was a pretty mundane place for me. I was sitting in the Floyd Central Junior/Senior High School cafeteria. And I was there with Angela Cherrie, one of my best friends from that time in my life. I wonder what got us on the subject of handbells of all things, but that’s where our conversation went. And she told me something kind of funny, “I’m in this handbell choir at my church, and it’s so hard. I have too many handbells to play!” For those of you who have ever played handbells – and by the way, handbells are San’s favorite instrument – she was specifically having trouble playing Dflat 5, D5, Eflat 5, and E5. She must have been playing a piece with lots of key changes. And so, I came up with an idea that seemed somewhat random, “Well, can I help you? Could I maybe join your handbell choir?” She told me she would ask, and one week later, the answer was yes!

And so, through a seemingly insignificant conversation about handbells of all things, my life was about to move in an entirely different direction. Angela Cherrie had introduced me to St. John United Presbyterian Church in New Albany, Indiana. (And yes, that’s the church where we’re headed in May for Kentuckiana-a’ganza, our mission and service trip). That church would change my life.

I went to the handbell choir, and because youth group met downstairs after our rehearsal, I just joined that too. And the youth group was going on a mission trip to Atlanta three weeks later, and right away, they asked me if I would like to go too. I was thrilled.

But as I grew up in that congregation, I learned a deep sense of faith. I learned the challenges of faith. And I met a congregation of people who would become my family. That may not be biologically true, but it was functionally very true. I met David Roth there, the pastor of the congregation, and David intentionally parented me in that church. In so many ways, he raised me, and I would not be the person I am today had I not experienced the depth of the love he had for me.

But I also found family-love in so many other places within the life of that congregation. I’ve mentioned this to a few of you already, but the congregation at St. John threw our wedding. We had asked some of the ladies of the church if we could pay them to make the food for our reception, which was also at the church in the afternoon. They agreed with even more enthusiasm that I would have imagined. And the day before the wedding, when they were downstairs in the kitchen, cooking this and assembling that, David went downstairs to check and see how they were doing. He and ten women ended up having a conversation about how each one of them had somehow come to consider me to be their other child.

I suppose that in some ways, my experience of love at that church was the flashing light and holy voice I needed, because my experience there has sent me in more positive directions than I could have anticipated. It taught me how to be in community, it taught me how to be vulnerable, it sent me in the direction of music school, and the direction of seminary, and the direction to this church and this community, which has been another flashing light and holy voice of itself. And all of this came because of a goofy, insignificant conversation about handbells in a junior high cafeteria of all places!

So what about you? What insignificant things have led to significant directions in your life? Where have you had a turn-around moment? And where do you sense God is calling you now?

As we close tonight, I think it might be helpful for us to hear that from each other. How would you answer those questions? Let’s have a time of sharing.

-Renée Roederer, Campus Minister, and the Austin Agape Community

Sermon: You Can't Seal the Deal

Psalm 118

Well perhaps you know the experience. You're walking on campus - maybe you've just left a familiar Austin Agape lunch at Wednesday at Wendy's - and you're heading over to the West Mall to cross Guadalupe. But before you can get to the crosswalk, you know what you're headed for because you can hear all the yelling. There's a man standing on the edge of the street, yelling to you (or at you. . . sometimes it's hard to tell) and there are several men and women handing out leaflets of paper. You know what to expect. This happens often on the West Mall. These are gospel tracts.

The experience may not be a pleasant one. No one likes to be yelled at. Maybe you feel frustrated or angry. Or maybe you feel sad. You're a Christian too, but you don't want to treat people this way as you share the good news of what your faith means to you. All this fire and brimstone talk sounds like bad news. However you feel when you hear it, no one can deny this: It's a very visual and vocal experience.

But on the other hand, to be fair, these people on the West Mall may indeed believe that this is ultimately a loving thing to do, even if the experience isn't a pleasant one. If salvation is truly up to your decision (and by the way, I realize that salvation can mean a lot of things, including what your experience of God is after death; often in these tracts, it is only about this experience, where you go when you die -) if salvation is truly up to a simple decision that you make, it really is imperative that they show you how to make the right one. I mean, if you could end up in hell, outside of God's love for you, but you could avoid this by accepting faith in Jesus, it would be cruel of them to not share this information with you. Since they hold this theological belief to be true, they want to love you by convincing you to make the right decision.

One of the tracts I was given on the West Mall started with an interesting couple of sentences. I wish I could remember them verbatim, but I’ve got it pretty close. Basically, it really put it all out there. It says, "Please do not be angry with us for giving you this tract. We do this because God loves you, and we love your soul. So we need to tell you that if you do not accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, you will burn for all eternity in hell."

Whoa! That was a quick turn-around there! That was a stark, immediate turn-around from love language to hell and damnation language. And I'll be honest. When I first read it, it was so stark, that I immediately laughed out loud. But again, to be fair, if they really hold these theological beliefs to be true, they are actually doing the loving thing.

And here are a few sentences from another tract I found online. I think these sentences tend to sum up what many tracts say: “Many people stumble at the simplicity of salvation. They often feel they must do something to earn or deserve such an offer. Yes, something had to be done so that salvation could be offered to us freely, but Jesus did it all. All you must do is--” Wait a minute? I thought we didn’t have to do anything. . . It continues. “All you must do is believe that Jesus Christ died for your sins and rose again. You then must receive him into your heart.”

So according to this way of thinking, God has made salvation possible. It’s an offer. But it’s up to us to make it actual. But are these theological beliefs true the way some articulate them? Are these beliefs ultimately what’s true about God's love and vision for us? It's up to us? It's really, really, really simple, but simply up to us? Really?

God loves us, yes. The people on the West Mall tell us the truth in saying that. Yes, even if the most articulate person on the face of the planet could put that love into the deepest, richest words we have, to convey how broad and comprehensive that love is, the witness of scripture is clear that we – in our limited understanding - could hardly even scratch the surface of articulating the reality of that love. God’s love is real. But is it real with a gigantic ‘if’ attached? Did God only make love and salvation possible for us? That is, is God’s stance toward us something like this: “I’ll love you, and I’ll have loving, eternal plans for you, but only if you acknowledge that I do?” And if we don’t, does that mean that God will cast that love away, or just as frightening, cast us away, sending us into everlasting damnation? So. . . we could know an eternity of God’s love if we seal the deal on it. . .? And if we don’t seal the deal in the right way – if we don’t do all the good things we should, if we don’t say the right words about God, if we don’t have the right beliefs about God – if we don’t seal the deal, God’s love and God’s good wishes for us are thrown out? Really, it’s up to us? We’re the linchpin? Let me see if I have this right: We’re so small that we can only scratch the surface of articulating God’s love? – We’re so sinful that we sometimes don’t even realize we need saving? – And we’re so finite that we can’t begin to comprehend the infinite desires and benevolence of a loving God? – and yet we’re the linchpin on this? It’s all up to us? Really?

The Psalm we heard this evening says something different. God’s love is real whether we know it or not. It is truly, objectively, actually, not-just-possibly-real. “O Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; His steadfast love endures forever!” Forever! These words both begin and end our text tonight. God’s deep, enduring love bookends this entire passage.

And there are more beautiful words: “²¹I thank you that you have answered me and have become my salvation” . . . “This is the Lord’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes” . . . “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Do you hear how active God is in those words? A ‘we ultimately seal the deal’ type of theology might agree with these words as they are, but at the end of the day, it kind of says something like this: “I thank you that you answered me – after all, I had to seal the deal by asking for it – I thank you that you have answered me and have become my salvation.” “This is the Lord’s doing – God’s way of making salvation possible – and it is marvelous in our eyes.” “This is the day that the Lord has made possible; let us accept it that we may rejoice and be glad in it.”

No, God’s love is steadfast, and it endures forever. There is nothing we can do to seal the deal on God’s love. And if God loves us, God has good visions and dreams for our lives – in this life and in the next. There is nothing we can do to make God love us more, and there is nothing we can do that can throw God’s love out. We can’t nullify God’s love. We’re not big enough to do that! We’re not the linchpin. Thanks be to God that we’re not the linchpin!

I want to affirm that Christians with a ‘seal the deal’ message like this are loving people who seek to give a loving message. And many people give a ‘we seal the deal’ type message without yelling at people on the West Mall. In fact, some of the people who teach this are some of the most loving people I know.

Let me tell you a story. When Ian and I were in college, we were connected to a campus ministry at Indiana University, and the leaders of that ministry are some of the most loving people. They built and continue to build some of the most amazing relationships, teaching people about God and building them together in community. But one of the leaders would regularly give an analogy to faith that I think misses the mark. It ultimately makes us the linchpin.

Often he would describe salvation in a certain way, and he would use a pen to bring home his point. He would say that salvation is a gift from God – a loving, beautiful gift – but in order to experience it, we must accept it. He would hold the pen and say, “Here. I’m giving you the gift of this pen. It’s completely a gift. You don’t have to do anything at all to earn it, because I want to give it to you.” He would hold it out to you. And he would say, “But you still have to accept it, don’t you? You still have to reach out and take it.” He would then go on to say that God’s salvation toward us is like that. It’s completely a gift of love. We don’t have to earn it. But it is up to us to accept it, to receive it. And if we don’t do that, we won’t experience salvation. It is ultimately up to us.

But we can testify to a deeper kind of love and a salvation that is real whether we accept it or not. It’s not up to us. But these questions are important too, and I bet they’ve been swirling around the room in our heads so far: So where do we come into this? Don’t we have free will? And if it’s not up to us, why does it matter? Why does it matter what we do? Why does it matter what we say? What does it matter what we believe? If God is giving us sheer grace, sheer gift, and we don’t have to seal the deal, why should it matter?

Oh, it completely matters! Our words, our deeds, and our beliefs can’t ultimately nullify God’s love, and we do have a will that can choose to act like God’s love is true. But if we’re not living, speaking, and believing God’s love, we are truly missing something! If we don’t know God’s love for us, there is something non-salvation-like about that. If salvation is our gift, it is ours to live! Not just in the life that is to come! But also, right now! We don’t make salvation real by sealing the deal – it’s not up to us – but in our receiving and in our living of that gift, we are made alive in love, in salvation, in fullness.

Let’s turn that pen analogy on its head. God doesn’t hold out salvation for us to seal the deal. It’s not as though God gives a pen and reaches halfway, waiting for us to reach halfway. No, that pen is sheer gift – for you and for the world! It’s as if God puts the pen fully in our hand. We didn’t do anything to earn it. We didn’t do anything to receive it really. We certainly didn’t seal the deal. But here’s the thing: If we don’t write with the pen, we might as well not have a pen! I mean, why just hold a pen? A pen is for writing! Writing in this life, and if we want to continue our analogy, writing in the life to come.

God loves us endlessly and boundlessly. We can hardly scratch the surface of understanding it! So let’s live it. Let’s live it as the real thing it is. And let’s hear that love for what it is – a real thing that we can’t seal the deal on, a real thing that we can’t sever. Let’s close with these beautiful words from Romans: “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, ³⁹nor 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.”

Write with the pen.

Live in God’s love.

Amen.

Invitation to the Table

And tonight we are invited to come to a place where we experience God’s love tangibly. At this table, we receive Bread and Cup. We receive Christ’s life. It’s sheer gift. We don’t need to seal the deal on that. There’s no reason to even try. Just experience it. This is Christ’s table, and all are invited. You don’t need to be Presbyterian. You don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to understand completely. You don’t need to meet any condition. You are accepted at this table. You are invited to this feast.

Tonight during communion, we’re going to do something a little different. When you come forward for communion, you will receive the bread and the cup. But someone will also be there to put a pen in your hand. Yes, it’s just a pen, and it certainly isn’t salvation itself! But it can be a sign of what is true. And over in that part of the room, there are sheets of paper. They include untruths of this world. We invite each of you to take the pen placed in your hand and actually write with it! You are invited to go over there and write one word over those sentences. And the word is Love. You can write it all over the place. And remember that you are called to live out God’s unconditional love.

-Renée Roederer, Campus Minister, and the Austin Agape Community

Sermon: Run!

Luke 24:1-12

As I think about what had happened before our story begins, the truth is, I can hardly fathom the deep devastation that the disciples were feeling. I can hardly imagine their sense of loss. All of them - the eleven who had been twelve before Judas’ betrayal and recent suicide, droves of other disciples, the women who traveled with him - all of them had followed him for three years of their lives. They left their work, their homes, some of them left their families, and it looked as though it had all been for nothing.

I can hardly imagine how their hopes must have seemed truly dashed. They had lived in awe, knowing that life was changing as they followed this Jesus. He was ushering in the Kingdom of God right before their eyes. He was loving boundlessly and healing those who were suffering. They knew they were witnessing something - Someone - beyond anything they could have imagined, but now, their Savior, their loving One, their healing One, was lying dead in a tomb. After he was interrogated, tortured, and disfigured beyond their recognition, Jesus was crucified. He died with criminals, humiliated, and his death was painful and long. Their hopes must have felt truly dashed.

And I can hardly imagine the fear they must have had. The last 48 hours were terrifying as they watched Jesus’ arrest and death, and surely they knew that they could be next. The gospels give us a picture of the disciples together after Jesus' death, waiting and watching. The Gospel of John tells us that they hid behind locked doors. Of course, it made sense to do such a thing: They didn't know what would be next for them. They must have been living in complete terror. I can hardly wrap my mind around that kind of fear.

And so you can imagine how brave and dedicated those women were when they ventured out to Jesus’ tomb very early on Sunday morning. . . They addressed their loss, faced their crushed hopes, and boldly conquered their personal fears as they brought spices to anoint and care for Jesus’ broken and disfigured body.

But as they arrived, they had a new challenge before them. They had to face a new reality that was beyond their imagination. When they arrived at the tomb, the stone was rolled away. They didn’t expect this. Who could be inside? Is everything okay? I wonder if they immediately felt panic within themselves. Perhaps their fearful imaginations anticipated the scene before reality confirmed it. Perhaps they immediately panicked and pictured that tomb empty without Jesus’ body. They had woken early to anoint Jesus’ body, but had somebody already been there? Could the authorities have stolen him away from them? They went inside the tomb, and the picture certainly would have confirmed their suspicions if they were thinking them. Jesus wasn’t inside the tomb. The tomb was empty. Abandoned.

But then, a new, stunning revelation. As the women are standing there perplexed, they realize that two men are standing there in front of them. And they have a pointed question for the women. And though it was a pointed question, I imagine that it was spoken with gentleness. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the two men asked this simple and yet pointed question: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” Why do you look for the living among the dead? Why are you looking for Jesus in a tomb of all places? Your sense of loss is great, it may feel as though your hopes are crushed, and you may be living in fear, but this One you seek isn’t among the dead at all! He’s among the living!

The men remind the women about Jesus’ words to them, and in excitement, they rush back to tell the other disciples.. Can you imagine their joy? Can you imagine the hope that came flooding back into them? And yet the disciples are still living in their loss, dashed hopes, and fear. They can’t imagine it either, and can we really blame them? The scripture tells us that they believed these words to be an idle tale. Perhaps it was too difficult to even try to hope. Maybe it didn’t feel worth it, if they might be disappointed again.

But Peter won’t sit idly by. He won’t simply brush the story away like an idle tale. He needs to allow himself to hope. He needs to see for himself. He leaves those fearful disciples and travels to the tomb. And he doesn’t walk hesitantly. He doesn’t keep looking over his shoulder, fearing the authorities. That wasn’t Peter’s means of traveling to the tomb. Peter ran! Peter ran with passion! He got to the tomb, stooped in, and saw what his eyes could hardly take in. Jesus was not in that tomb – only the linen cloths were there. The scripture says that Peter went home amazed at what had happened.

He went home amazed at what had happened.

And so here we are. We are here on Easter Sunday. And here we are hearing the story again. Where are we? Where are we – not just, where is our location? But where are we in our hearts and minds? It’s true that it may be hard to imagine what the disciples were feeling, but maybe we know loss, and disappointed hopes, and fear. We haven’t experienced what these disciples experienced directly more than 2000 years ago, but here we are, all in a room, all gathered together, and we’re disciples too. We’re hearing the story of resurrection. We’re hearing that question: Why do look for the living among the dead? We’re hearing the testimony of those women. Where are we?

David Johnson, one of my professors from Austin Seminary, had an interesting Facebook status this weekend: He said this, “There are only two Easter sermons: 1. This is extraordinary and hard to believe, but it changes everything. 2. This is a crock, and we have to figure out some symbolic way of making it believable. I'm going with #1.” I have a feeling that most of us would prefer to go that way too.

The Resurrection does change everything. As I look around this room, I know that it has changed you. The resurrection may seem like a thing, in the ways that we have questions – perhaps excited questions, and perhaps critical questions, and those are all good and worthy of being asked – but ultimately the resurrection isn’t a thing. It isn’t a thing that we can plop down on a stainless steel counter for analysis or a thing we can put under a microscope. We can’t do DNA tests or an autopsy. The resurrection isn’t a thing. The resurrection is a Person. You worship and serve – we worship and serve – Jesus Christ, the Resurrected One.

Why do you look for the living among the dead?

Jesus is the Resurrected One, the Alive One, the Living-With-And-For-Us-One. Resurrection is a Person. And ours is a Resurrected Faith. On Easter Sunday – and for that matter, every Sunday because our faith is a resurrected faith – we remember that the Resurrection is an event that changes everything. And yet the Resurrection infinitely more than some event that mysteriously and miraculously happened more than 2000 years ago. The Resurrection tells us something true about Who God always is toward us. Jesus is our Resurrection. In his resurrected life, he shows us who God is toward us, toward this creation.

Like Peter we can run to the all tombs of this world and discover who Christ is. Because as Christ goes to the cross, loving even to the end, even to death on a cross, he reveals Who God Is toward us, “When you suffer, I suffer. I will always suffer with and alongside you.” And as Christ is miraculously raised from death itself, it reveals Who God IS toward us, “I will rise with and for you. As I rise, you will rise. I am resurrection for you and for all creation.”

So on this Easter Sunday, let’s commit ourselves as a community and as a family of faith to run to that tomb. Run to it! Run to that tomb 2000 years ago! Run to the tombs of this world: War-torn nations, poverty, children abandoned and neglected, illness, pain, homelessness and so many more tombs. Discover Jesus as the Resurrected One – the One who lives for those in the tombs, raising them to new life - he himself, the Resurrection for you and for this world. See him alive there. And you – servants of the Resurrected One – be his life there. Take this life changing message always and proclaim it. He is risen! He is risen indeed!

Thanks be to God.

-Renée Roederer, Campus Minister, and the Austin Agape Community