Sermon: Make Waves

Matthew 28:16-20

It was a time of wonder. And it was a time of fear. The eleven disciples had just heard what was most difficult to believe. Some of the women among them, also disciples, had gone to Jesus’ tomb and had found it empty. And those women came back to the eleven with a message: Go ahead to Galilee. He will meet you there. Jesus will meet you there.

It’s like they had gone full circle, isn’t it? Galilee is right where their ministry started. It was right where they had seen their lives transformed, where they had seen other lives transformed. Healings, prayers, meals where everyone was included, and life-altering parables, they had seen it, traveling around Galilee with Jesus.

And now, after their experience of grief, pain, and confusion in Jerusalem, they return to Galilee, uncertain of so many things. They doubted. Could it be? Could he be? But even in their doubt, they risked the journey. They went to that mountain in Galilee. And there was Jesus – the Risen Christ – standing right in front of them, sending them out to be who they were called to be from the beginning, people who are commissioned, sent in love to disciple others, called to baptize others into the Name of God which is a Communion of Love – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - and to send these new disciples out as well, living as the ones they were created to be. This was full circle, this arrival in Galilee. And these disciples were being commissioned to participate in a circle that was becoming deeper and more widespread all the time. A full and progressively fuller circle.

I’m grateful that the text says they doubted. I’m not grateful that they had an experience of doubt – that’s never a pleasant experience - but I am grateful that they were like us. Sometimes we doubt. We doubt God. We doubt possibilities. We doubt ourselves. We doubt one another. We doubt too.

The translation we heard tonight says that “some” doubted when they worshiped Jesus on the mountain. So do a few other English translations. “Some.” But I was stunned and oddly heartened when I discovered the Greek text of this passage doesn’t say the word ‘some’. It just isn’t there. It says, “But they doubted.” Not ‘some’. ‘They’. That sounds like all to me. The word “some” is in a few variant manuscripts of Greek that were copied later, but the word isn’t there in the majority of Greek manuscripts. Who knows? Maybe English translators wanted to be comforted that doubt was there. . . but it was only some of those people, you know. . . those people, those doubter people. Not us. No, the disciples all doubted. We’re all doubters at least at one time or another.

And so Jesus – the Risen Christ - looks at the bunch of them - rag-tag people, really. They were fishermen and tax-collectors. Nothing really special, at least not in any extraordinary sense. Jesus knows they’re a bunch of doubters and a rag-tag group of people who aren’t too extraordinary in the world’s eyes. He sees them for who they are, and he loves them. And he trusts them. In fact, he entrusts them with an ever-enlarging mission. He entrusts them with a Great Commission. He entrusts a rag-tag group of doubters because he sees them, not through the lens of their doubt or their lackluster. He sees them through love and knows them as transformed human beings who will transform the world – not through their own authority and power, but through his. He has chosen to entrust himself to them and through them.

And, you know – that’s what faith is really about, trust. It’s not ultimately about belief, at least in the ways we define that word today. Isn’t that strange? We hear the word ‘believe’ a lot when we talk about faith. We read it in our scriptures. And perhaps one of the saddest things is that when we see the word, especially in our scriptures, we often super-impose our cultural understanding of what that word means onto the text. In our culture, when someone believes, that person intellectually assents to something. “Yep, I believe that. Check yes!”

But the word ‘believe’ in our scriptures says something much deeper than that. Often in the gospels, in the original language, the word ‘believe’ is often followed by the word ‘into.’ Isn’t that interesting? Believing doesn’t mean to intellectually assent to some idea. It means to believe into – to trust – someone, in this case, Jesus Christ. Believe into Jesus Christ. Entrust yourself – your entire being – into Jesus Christ. Trust and risk that you can put your weight on the foundation of Who He Is. Believe into him. Lean yourself – your convictions, your doubts, your gifts, your weaknesses, your questions, your pain, your joy – lean all of it – all of yourself – into who this one is. That’s much deeper than intellectual assent, isn’t it? That’s much deeper and more profound than a ‘check yes’ mentality to this theological proposition or that theological proposition. It’s also much harder.

It’s much harder! And here is the Risen Christ standing before a bunch of rag-tag doubters, and he puts this type of belief into action. He believes in his disciples – not because of their specialness or extraordinary-ness, not because of their ‘check yes’ intellectual assent (they’re doubters!) – he believes in his disciples by entrusting himself to them. Yes, entrusting himself to them! In his name and in his authority, these disciples will make disciples and baptize them into Love, sending out even more disciples. They are participating and reverberating a circle of love, mission, and service – sending it wider and wider all the time.

And Jesus isn’t leaving them. No, the Risen Christ entrusts himself, pledging to be with them every moment along the way. Not just here and there. Every moment! Not just at the end. Every moment! He says, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Always. To and through the end. Always. Always, Christ is present with his disciples. Always, Christ is present with us.

We come to the close of a year – at least, a close as far as the academic calendar goes. And we’ve discerned Christ’s risen presence among us. We’ve worshiped. We’ve had doubts. We’ve asked questions. We’ve traveled. We’ve laughed. We’ve played. We’ve cried. We’ve gotten injured on ski slopes for crying out loud! We’ve confided. We’ve loved. We’ve prayed. We’ve invited others. And through it all, we’ve witnessed Christ’s presence among us. We’ve made disciples. We’ve taught. We’ve sent one another forth. And we’ve done all these things – not because we’re more special than others, or because we’re extraordinary – we’ve done them because we’ve had the opportunity – the incredible opportunity! – to participate in a circle larger than ourselves, a circle that grows wider and wider all the time. We don’t do it in our name. We do it in Christ’s Name. What a gift.

Have you ever dropped a rock into a pond of some kind and watched the ripples go out? When we drop a pebble, we can see those ripples for a while, but as they spread out wider, it’s hard for us to see how and where they’re continuing. But they are. And have you ever participated in something that led to something else which led to something else, onward and onward with a constant ripple effect? Maybe those ripples have been initiated by us, but after a while, they take a life of their own and move outward from us in ways that are beyond our control. I think that’s what we’re doing here in this community. I think that’s what God is doing in and through us. In our lives together, in our actions together and out in our larger spheres of life, we’re working (failing sometimes, but working) to entrust ourselves to Jesus Christ, who has entrusted himself to us, and that process of entrusting ourselves is like dropping a rock into the pond of God’s grace, and we too are being commissioned for service. We’re called to make waves. We’re called to set waves of God’s love into motion. We do this as individuals, but maybe even more importantly, we do it as a community.

You, Austin Agape, are a community that makes waves. And you are called to make more waves all the time. Swim deep. Splash and play with all your gusto! Jesus Christ has entrusted himself – he has leaned all of Who He Is into you – and he commissions you to fully live, making disciples, doing works of justice and kindness in this world. Make waves, Austin Agape. Make waves, University Presbyterian Church. Splash like crazy! Splash and make waves because you have experienced the Risen Christ and you are witnesses in this world.

I want you to know that you have made waves so deep and so rich in my world. Those waves reverberate with me, everywhere I go. I want you to know that I would not be who I am or where I am had I not met you.

Five years ago, I stood in a field in Germany, and prayed like crazy because I was terrified that I was about to move to Texas. I had been singing in some choral competitions with my choir, and I was really struggling with this whole Austin move. I had been terrified and frustrated with that decision for weeks, but I knew it was right. And finally, when I stood in that field, five years ago to this week, I can’t explain it, I was overcome with a powerful sense of love, transcendence, peace, and vision that I can only attribute to God. I knew that I had to move to Austin because there were people there who would make me. . .me.

In that moment, those people were general and vague. Today, five years later, they have names. And so many of them are in this room right now.

Up and to the day, I graduated seminary and even a bit longer, I never thought I would be a pastor. Oh, I would probably get another degree eventually and be a professor. And that would have been nice. Yes, a theology professor. That sounded wonderful. And that was my track up until the day I found out surprisingly that I was being called into this position, that I was being called to be your pastor. I was scared then too. More scared than you know. And yet, I took the risk. And it was the greatest blessing I could have ever imagined.

Did that decision to say yes make waves here? I would say yes. But the waves haven’t been mine. You’ve made waves too. And ultimately, the waves of healing, prayer, meals where everyone is included, and life-altering parables – those belong to Jesus Christ. Those belong to the Triune God.

Thank you. I want you to know that you are the love of my life. The waves of love you sent into me will go on beyond this place and beyond me toward others who I’ll meet along the way. You’ll be with me all the time.

And soon, our relationship will change. I won’t be your pastor anymore. But the love will still go on in ways deeper and broader than we know now. You can be assured of this. You can put your weight on it: There will be no day – ever! – that I will not love you. That’s not changing. I hope that when we’re 50, we’ll be connected and in each others’ lives. I’ll be human, and I won’t love perfectly. But you can trust – you can believe, entrust – that my love for you continues. Always. And you can know that whoever I continue to love, whoever I continue to meet, your life, your love will ripple through me to them. Always.

And there is One who goes with us. Jesus Christ goes with you. Jesus Christ goes with me. He leads you. He leads me. He loves fully, not imperfectly. He’s the True Human, the One Whose love is complete and all-encompassing. He is the One who is with us to and through the end. When Jesus says he is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, he literally says that he is the Road, the Truth, and the Life. You and I might be in two different states soon. Actually, some day, we’ll all be in different places. But we’ll never be on a different road. Never.

Thanks be to God for the gift of entrusting, for the gift of becoming, for the gift of belonging. Make waves. It’s who you are. Amen.

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

Sermon: Someday You Will Be the Love of My Life

John 17:1-26

As we begin our time together to explore this text tonight, I'd like to start by inviting you to do something simple - something you do all the time, but rarely think about. In a moment, I'd like to invite you to take a deep breath. We'll do it all together. You can close your eyes if you want to, but we'll all take a deep breath, inhale and exhale. Ready? One, two, three, breathe.

Libby told me something this week that intrigued me. She said to me, "Hey Renee, did you know that every time you take a breath of air, at least one air molecule was also breathed by Socrates in his lifetime?" Well that is intriguing! As crazy as it sounds, probability is such that each time you take a breath, approximately every six seconds, the air in your lungs contains at least one molecule that was in Socrates' lungs during his lifetime. Wow. A lot of people have lived on this earth, but we also breathe in an unbelievable amount of air molecules every time we take a breath. The same molecules of air as Socrates! Every breath! Crazy!

But, or course, this isn't just true for famous Greek philosophers. This is true about everyone who was ever lived, everyone who has ever shared our air! Every breath you take, contains at least one air molecule that someone else breathed - your best friend, the person you can't stand, Kevin Bacon, Nelson Mandela, Amanda Nelson Mandela! You name it! You’re breathing the same molecules of air of others who have been human with you. Think about it! Cavemen, Sojourner Truth, Isaac Newton, George Washington, and the Trololo guy. The Trololo Guy! I find that to be absolutely remarkable.

We’re more connected than we know. We’re much more connected than we know.

And our text tonight, is a beautiful prayer recorded in the Gospel of John. Jesus prays this prayer in the upper room, the night of his arrest, the night before his death. In chapters 13-17 of John’s Gospel, Jesus is depicted in the upper room, washing the disciples’ feet, encouraging them, testifying to the Holy Spirit who will be their Comforter and Advocate, and finally, before his arrest, this beautiful prayer is spoken on their behalf.

Love is spoken all over the place, and several thematic words seem to emerge throughout the text. A crucial word in the text is the word “one,” and it’s associated with a union of love. Jesus is one with the Father, the disciples are called to be one with Jesus, and Jesus prays for those who will believe in him through the testimony of the disciples – people like us – and asks that they may also be one. That word seems to be all over the place in the prayer. Listen to these words again: “Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.” Wow. As the Son and the Father are one, we are called to be one. . . like that! Wow.

And another important word is “in.” It’s all over the place too. “I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.” Jesus is in the Father. The Father is in Jesus. Jesus is in his disciples, and they are in him. And Jesus is in those who will believe in him through the disciples’ testimony. And did you catch that? “May they also be in us.” We are in God!

Love invites us to be in one another and even in the life of God. And actually, we are in one another because we are in the love and life of God, a love and life deeply given to us. Jesus says, “The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.” Quite remarkable, isn’t it? We are in one another; we share the same air. And we are in one another; we share the same love of God that is bestowed upon us. It’s unfathomably beautiful, and we can hardly wrap our minds around it.

And I believe that much of the Christian faith is like that: unfathomably beautiful, and we can hardly wrap our minds around it. Here’s a question. When you think about the Trinity, what comes to mind? On one hand, we could say something Sunday-School-Answer-ish. “The Trinity is a word to describe God, that God is one God, and that God exists in three persons – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” I suppose that’s one way we could describe God, and we would be saying something true. But this truth isn’t just Sunday-School-Answer-ish, and it’s not some weird math equation for us to figure out – How can one equal three, and three equal one? No, if we stayed there in that frame of mind, we’d be missing the depth of this love. The truth of Who God Is is much more beautiful, mysterious, and life-altering than a math equation. God can’t be diagrammed or mapped. Thank God for that!

No, God is a communion of love. God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, are One. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are in. We are invited into oneness – into the communion of God. We are invited into the in-ness – into the life of God’s loving communion. God exists as a community – a communion of love, and that love spills over to include us and to include the entire creation. We’re not God, but in love, we truly are swept up into the life of God! That’s remarkable too!

The reason we have language about the Trinity is because of the experience of Love. No one sat down one day in front of a bunch of other Christians and said, “Hey! I’ve got this great idea about God. I’ve thought it all out. In fact, I’ve got it all figured out! Here, let me show you my blueprint.” No. Instead, what happened is that the early Christian community believed that they had experienced the embodiment of God in the human being, Jesus of Nazareth, and they saw the communion of love between Jesus and God, who he called Father. And they had an experience of love expressed in the Holy Spirit, who they also witnessed the Holy Spirit to be in communion with the God the Creator and God the Son. Without trying to create a math equation, they came to express language that gave praise to their experience and to the experiences they witnessed in the Scriptures.

And so, I don’t have a way to map this out. I don’t have a flow chart or a blueprint. I also can’t say everything definitive about what Jesus voices in this prayer. This prayer isn’t high, ivory-tower-theological discourse of definition. This is a prayer of love, praise, and petition. God is Love. God isn’t a Definition. But that being said, I do believe that this prayer speaks beautiful language about who God is – who God is in communion – and that has something to say about who we are and who we’re called to be.

One thing that’s beautiful about the life of faith is that the questions are just as important as the answers. And faith is beautiful in the way that it invites us to be imaginative. So disclaimer: What follows is speculative and imaginative, but I believe, ultimately true. Very true.

God is a communion of love beyond anything we can imagine or define. And in that communion of love – that three-ness – God’s love spills over to include us. What if we – mere human beings – are called to lives that kind of communion? What if our lives – unaware as we often are – are moving in that kind of direction? Again, we’re not God, and we’re not becoming God, but what if God is moving us into an experience that is somehow Trinitized, that is, moving us to be the unique, particular persons we are, who love so fully that we are one with those we love? We can’t do this on our own – we are absolutely fallen – but what if God is constantly recreating us to love in this direction?

In one of our Bible Studies this semester, we began to ask some questions about the Kingdom of God. I’d like to talk to you about 3057, a completely arbitrary number that has come to symbolize something meaningful to those of us in the Bible this semester. We talked about the Kingdom of God and tried to imagine what that looks like. Again, we can’t wrap our minds around it. We have glimpses of it now, but we asked questions, wondering what the Kingdom of God might look like in its fullness. And we began to talk about something speculative. And for the record, I don’t know fully what happens when we die, but I think this is a beautiful thought. And this is where our arbitrary number came in. We asked, “What if the Kingdom of God came in all its fullness in the year 3057?” And then we asked this question. “If God isn’t bound within space and time in the way we are – that is, if God isn’t confined by space and time in the way we are – I wonder if we enter something of that when we die. I mean, what if when we die, we enter the fullness of all things? What enter if we the fullness of the Kingdom of God? What if we enter 3057?”

Now that may all sound like speculative gobbily gook, but again, imagination can be powerful and is a gift from God. If all that were true, we came to this conclusion: That would mean that if I died tonight, I wouldn’t simply be reunited with people who had died before me. I would enter something not confined by time and space. That means from my experience, you would all be there! I mean, it would kind of stink to just be waiting on everyone else, just being separated. But whatever happens upon death, I have a feeling that we enter something very full, a mystical communion of love deeper and more rich than we can imagine, something somewhat Trinitarian. God is sweeping us up into the communion of Love. Unfathomable, and we can hardly wrap our minds around it.

I’ll tell you another interesting story based on some of these speculations. What if by the grace of God, we are on our way toward living in that kind of communion? Oh, we mess it up royally now. But what if that’s the direction we’re moving in? What if God has created us for that? What if, in the fullness of the Kingdom of God – whether in this life, or in a life to come – we learn to truly be one and to love in a way we can’t fathom? Oh, I’m not talking about holding hands and singing kum-bah-yah. I’m talking about something deeper and richer than that. What if that’s where we’re headed?

If it is, it means that we’re being fashioned to learn how to be one – that is, to be unified in love in community, and can you imagine this? When we enter that kind of love in God more deeply, what if we begin to love others in such a way that every single person feels like the unique love of our life? After all, that’s how God loves us. What if God is creating and molding us – purely by God’s grace - to love like that? Here’s the story.

I know someone who was taking a walk around West Campus a few weeks ago, and she was feeling anxious about some decisions she would have to be making soon. And in her anxiety, she felt like she should stop focusing about her worries, and simply notice what was around her. What did she see? She told me that first thing she noticed was that she saw students walking around in every direction, and she was intrigued at one observation. All of these students seemed to be entirely in their own world. It wasn’t that they seemed selfish. It was just that they truly seemed to be in their own world – their own awareness without the awareness of those who were also walking around them. Some were listening to ipods, some were just staring, thinking through their own thoughts. She said to herself, “Wow. These students don’t know they’re connected.”

She began to think about some of the questions I just asked, and then, she thought this. I love it! She thought about who God was constantly creating her to be, and how she was ultimately called to love, and as she passed each person, she said this in her mind: “Someday, you will be the love of my life.” Isn’t that interesting?

“Someday, you will be the love of my life.” That is, “If I am being swept up in the life of God, to love all people with a love I can’t begin to fathom, I will one day, view each person has the unique love of my life.” I love it. And if that’s where we’re ultimately headed, that means, we can try by God’s grace, to love people more fully now! I mean, can you imagine how different this world would be if we all believed that someday, every person would be the unique love of our life! We’d probably start treating them better right now. We’d probably start loving them right now.

Thanks be to God that we are created to be one. Thanks be to God that we are created to be in. Thanks be to God who is Love for us and for all. Amen.

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

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

Sermon - Controversy: He Who Receives

Philippians 2:1-11
John 12:1-8

Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair.

As tonight’s story from the Gospel of John opens, a controversy has been brewing. Jesus and his disciples are staying under a roof with people who have deep, meaningful relationships with him. They’re staying in the home of Lazarus, and Lazarus’s sisters Mary and Martha are there too. These relationships are deep and meaningful, but they are also part of an ongoing controversy. Our passage from tonight follows the dramatic story found only in the Gospel of John: Jesus travels to Bethany and encounters these sisters grieving the death of their brother Lazarus. Jesus has arrived later than they expected. Lazarus has died, and he has already been buried. Jesus demonstrates deep love, weeping with Mary and Martha, and then, deeply disturbed in his spirit, he boldly walks to the tomb where Lazarus has been laid for four days. After calling for the stone to be rolled away, he prays, and Jesus resurrects Lazarus, restoring him to life, restoring him to his family.

And this controversy is not without consequences. The chief priests and the Pharisees are fearful and furious. They’re concerned that people will continue to believe in Jesus and join his enlarging movement of disciples, and the Gospel of John tells us that because they feared this, they begin to plot his death from that day onward.

And so controversy goes ahead of Jesus. As he nears Jerusalem for the celebration of the Passover, a group of powerful leaders are plotting his death. And because we know how the story continues in Jerusalem, we’re aware that Jesus is heading into the city, where he will experience anxiety, betrayal, interrogation, torture, and excruciating death. He’s walking into controversy larger than anything we might be able to imagine.

Controversy is behind him, and controversy is before him.

But in the midst of controversial difficulty on every side, Jesus demonstrates grace in our passage tonight. He himself is a Controversy, breaking social norms and transcending our own expectations of Who he is and what he came to do. As our epistle lesson from Philippians tells us, Jesus, who did not consider equality with God as something to be grasped, entered human experience with us. Fully human – Jesus, the True Human who shows us what Humanity was created to be- teaches us how to give and receive love.

As Jesus sits at the table with his friends, he’s aware that controversy surrounds him. He knows where he has been, and he knows what he’s walking into. Like any of us, he was fearful and anxious, as we will soon see when we hear the story of his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane in a couple of weeks. But even in the midst of controversy and fear, Jesus realizes the intrinsic value of being present with those he loves. He eats with them. He speaks to them. He looks into their eyes and listens. He’s present. And in the midst of the difficulties around him, perhaps this loving, attentive presence is a controversy in itself, as far as norms and expectations might be concerned.

But that’s not all. Jesus is present, but perhaps even more controversial to our own societal understandings which promote individualism and isolating, “hold-it-all-together” self-sufficiency, Jesus receives the loving presence of others. Mary takes a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard – which comes from a plant found in the Himalayas of China, India, and Nepal, far away from Israel – and she lovingly pours that perfume over Jesus’ feet, anointing him and wiping his feet with her own hair, filling the house with perfume. Jesus is honored by her actions, and he is moved with gratitude. Jesus has given in love, restoring Lazarus to life, health, and fellowship, and yet he is a Savior that often surprises us by overturning our expectations. He enters relationship so deeply with those he saves, that he also receives their love. Jesus demonstrates true humanity. It’s not less human to receive from others and live in gratitude for their companionship. It is truly human to receive as well as to give.

And Mary’s deed was controversial. The disciples were immediately uncomfortable. Jesus didn’t receive a small thing in this act of love. It was a huge thing. The text says that the perfume cost 300 denarii. A denarius was a typical day’s wage, so this perfume cost approximately 300 days of wages. To put it in modern terms, that’s 82% of a person’s salary. Mary poured herself out in love, and she gave abundantly and extravagantly.

The disciples expressed their discomfort, especially Judas. John adds that Judas had some ulterior motives for this, but nonetheless, an extravagant gift such as this one was not to go unnoticed. In fact, it couldn’t avoid noticing it. They were witnessing Mary’s gift of love before their eyes, and the smell was flooding the house. It was everywhere. And when they react with language of controversy, Jesus defends Mary. Jesus receives her love. He models the human need for love. And he goes beyond that. He tells the disciples that Mary has done this to prepare for his burial. It’s true that Jesus is above us and beyond us when it comes to compassion, justice, and continuous communion with God, and yet, this Divine One is human with us – so human with us, that he enters into relationship with us and receives from us. This is what he desires, communion with us. In this situation, he didn’t shun Mary’s act of love, but he invited her into his vulnerability, even into the ultimate vulnerability – the experience of death. Jesus is truly God in the flesh, fully human with us.

Now our culture doesn’t value this type of with-ness. We sense that we need community, that we need relationships and the care of others, but our culture doesn’t ultimately value or affirm this way of living. Instead, our culture tends to value and affirm people who appear entirely self-sufficient, people who don’t need anything. And this often leads us to hide our needs and vulnerability, to put forth an image that is successful – and by our cultural designations, a successful person doesn’t need anything or anyone. That Simon and Garfunkel song comes to mind:

I am a Rock.

I am an Island. . .

And a rock feels no pain.

And an island never cries.

Or listen to these slogans and jingles that send us a message of rugged, un-vulnerable, “it’s all about you and only you” individualism: Sprite’s “Obey your thirst,” McDonalds, “You deserve a break,” Burger King’s, “Have it your way,” and two from the United States’ Army: “Be all you can be,” and “An Army of One.” (Seriously, how can you have an Army of One!) We hear these messages all the time. And we see corporate executives and employees who are taught to rise to the top by looking out for their own interests. Success and strength are defined by obtaining “wants”: fast and flashy cars, the latest designer handbags, and vast material wealth to throw at exotic vacations. We value wants, but it’s culturally viewed as weak to have “needs,” especially to need other people – their time, their attention, their love, and their gifts. And it’s especially obscene to be viewed as vulnerable – to be sad, confused, afraid, or grieved. We’re taught to be strong, and that means isolating our difficulties from others, and at times, we even try to isolate them from ourselves. We try to isolate them from our own awareness.

But this cultural message doesn’t square up with what the gospel teaches. Sometimes, our ideas about individualism and power get projected on to our understanding of God, and God becomes a solitary monad in space out there – alone, distant, and powerful. The problem is that God’s power doesn’t look like our understanding of power. We tend to look at people who have the most power in our experience – solitary kings, military leaders, and dictators - and then, we multiply that understanding of power times a million-billion and paste it onto God. But that’s not how God’s power works at all.

In our faith, we have a beautiful way of saying that God’s power works differently. God isn’t some solitary monad floating out there in space - distant, isolated, and individualistic. God’s power is revealed in vulnerability, weakness, and a together-ness expressed in vulnerability and weakness. As the scripture from Philippians says tonight, God’s power is revealed in this way: Jesus, who had equality with God, emptied himself and was born in human likeness. And God has been revealed to us as a community. There is one God who is a communion of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And this communion – this community – spills over to include us. We aren’t God, but we are swept up, brought fully into the life of God. That’s amazing.

And so Jesus, God with us, shows us what it means to receive love. I suppose Jesus could have said, “Stand back, Mary! There’s no need here! Don’t you know that I’m the Savior?” Maybe with flexed arms he could have said, “I’m an Army of One!”

But no, Jesus received Mary’s love because he himself was vulnerable. And when he received Mary’s gift, he gave her a gift too: He invited her to be an abundant and extravagant and giver, someone she was always created to be.

Last week, fourteen of us embarked on an annual adventure. We traveled to Salida, Colorado for the annual ski trip. We had a wonderful time. I wish I could say that this was the year we sustained no injuries. (We will wait and hope for that to happen eventually. . .) But we did have injuries. We had two. We’ve never had more than one before! On the first day, Lauron took a spill on her second run and broke her collarbone. And on the last run of the first day, Marco fell and hurt a muscle in his leg. After that, he couldn’t walk on it. Two injuries on the first day! We were concerned for Lauron and Marco, and it was hard to watch them be in so much pain.

But with so much difficulty around us, all fourteen of us experienced such a deep sense of love and grace. We were staying at First Presbyterian Church in Salida, Colorado. And I can say emphatically, that I’ve rarely seen a more hospitable church. The congregation surrounded us and tried to do all they could to help. Two separate people brought crutches for Marco to use. And Bill and Lois Scace opened their home for Lauron. Lauron couldn’t sleep flat, so she needed to sleep in a recliner. Bill and Lois graciously offered their home to Lauron, and they also took in Libby and me as we stayed with Lauron and helped her deal with her pain. We were overwhelmed by their love and hospitality. They got to know us and allowed us to get to know them. They provided a recliner and a bed. They made us meals. Lois shared her birthday with us, and we celebrated her with a delicious chocolate cake.

Again and again, they gave abundantly and extravagantly. We felt like we belonged with them in their home. At the end of our week together, Bill said to us, “We just wish we could adopt all three of us.” And the truth is, we felt as though they had. They gave beyond what we needed, and yet, we had the sense that we too had given them a gift. We had allowed them to be the givers they are.

What a gift it is to receive love! As we close tonight, I would invite each one of us to consider how Jesus invites us into deep relational giving and receiving. Is there a form of love that you resist receiving? Do you feel guilty when people give to you? Are you afraid of seeming weak or too dependent? What holds you back?

This week as we encounter love all around us, how can you be a gracious receiver of love, and how can you spread it beyond you so that others can receive too? How can you extend the circle of love by receiving it, letting it flow through you?

May God continue to encounter us with love in and through these questions this week. Amen.

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