Transcript of my first talk--April 3, 2014

Tonight, I feel really honored to be in this room with y'all as fellow disciples of Jesus. And if you're not a follower of Jesus, I'm really glad you're here. This is a space where we want to learn from each other and from God.

So I have this task of addressing the topic of "walking humbly with your God," and that's actually something I continually struggle with, and will probably struggle with for my whole life, so while it might be tempting to see me standing up here in front of everyone as a cue that I must know what I'm talking about, I see this time tonight more as a conversation I'm having with Jesus, and I'm inviting you to be involved in that conversation. To listen, to be present, to have your own reactions, to take from it whatever God wants to speak to you. Sound ok?

Ok, so I'm asking Jesus, "What do you want to communicate to us, to show us tonight?"

Jesus goes, "Well, why not start by looking at the Micah 6:8 verse? It's short, so you can really get into the different nuances of the verse." I enjoy sifting through the different meanings of words and savoring their different connotations, so I like his advice. We'll start by looking at the verse:

"He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God."

Jesus asks, "What words and phrases stand out to you in that verse?"

I'm reminded of what Erica said about the phrase "required of" (for those of you who were at the first large group of the semester). She talked about how if you're an EECS (Electrical Engineering and Computer Science) major, coding is required of you; it's in your nature. Or how if you're a musician, practicing your ear and your skills is required of you, because it's in your nature. Or if you're an English major, doing close readings and tracking the origins of words (also known as their etymologies) is required of you. So I'm remembering, ok this verse has to do with the essence of being human. What does the Lord require of you? Something to do with who we are as humans.

Jesus goes, "Yeah. Walking humbly with God is something that's built into you as a human creature. Into your human nature."

For me, I'm thinking, "Built into my human nature, ok. But... wait. I know that I'm not naturally humble. At Urbana '12 (a student missions conference that InterVarsity holds every 3 years), I was on the prayer ministry team, and I was also on staff, and so on my nametag, which was in this fancy, heavy-duty plastic thing with a really cool lanyard, I had a ribbon for being on InterVarsity staff, and it was black, and a ribbon for being on the prayer ministry team, and it was red. And that small amount of responsibility and status actually went to my head really quickly. If you've been to Urbana, you know that it's so crowded--there's like, what, 15,000 people--some huge crowd of people. And in the midst of that crowd, I'm like, "But I'm special. Because I'm on InterVarsity staff. And I'm on the prayer team." So when I was walking in a crowd I was thinking, "People should just get out of the way, because I need to go pray for people, because that's SO important!" I'm feeling pretty self-important, and Jesus reminded me, "Hey, what are you doing? This is a conference about me, and people in the world, and your role matters, but it's definitely not the whole conference."

Jesus goes, "I'm glad that you remember that experience with such clarity, because it helps you differentiate between the moments of truly being human, and moments when you lose touch with the truth. Moments when you try to be more than human. That's when you start condemning others, or looking down on yourself. It's good to correctly identify that as pride, and not humility."

"So, being judgmental of other people and condemning myself...that's not the path to humility? I sort of feel like it should be."

Jesus says, "Where does that message come from? Does that come from me?"

Me: “Well … you do say some intense things to people, Jesus. Like, ‘O wicked and perverse generation! How long must I put up with you?’ But you also say things like, ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone’ and ‘my daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace’ and ‘my son, your sins are forgiven’. So I guess you’re not as interested in accusing me as I am interested in accusing myself.”

Jesus: “It’s good to hear you say that. It’s not fun when I am misunderstood, even by my own followers, as a harsh taskmaster with impossibly high expectations. I don’t play that game of high-status/low-status, but others are constantly trying to loop me into it and get me on their side. How would you describe how I interact with you, if not to accuse?”

Me: “Micah 6:8 says that God has shown me, a mortal, what is good; and I remember Erica saying that for us, the showing part is in the life you lived, Jesus. You showed us what good really looks like. And instead of trying to play the victim, and say, ‘How do I get this demanding God off my back?--how can I placate him with ten thousand rivers of olive oil?’ you move me toward seeing the good that is available to me in my life. And you free me to experience that goodness.”

Jesus: “Where in your life, Estelle, do you need to be freed to experience more good?”

Me: “Well, I’ve been trying to change my lifestyle to a healthier one. I am trying to exercise or at least walk every day. I flirt with the idea of eating more vegetables and less meat. I know I could plan ahead better so that I’m not rushing out the door grabbing the fastest food option available (which often means sugars and carbs). But I am half-hearted about it because I like being able to eat tasty things whenever I feel like it--like when I walk past Sheng Kee bakery, I can just go in there, get a huge loaf of taro bread, and just start chowing down. I want to preserve my right to do that, at any moment, whenever the mood strikes. But then, I somehow get to the end of the day and realize, 'I didn't stick to this value at all.' But how do I change? I know my body isn’t a tool that I get to use however I want; it’s a temple where you choose to dwell. But beyond knowing that in my head, it has to filter into the things I tell myself on a daily basis and the choices I make. Those choices tend to say, ‘it’s not a big deal what I put into my body--at least it’s not as big of a deal as feeling emotional release or making sure I get someplace on time.’ And at the end of it, I just feel like a failure, so much so that I don’t want to even think about how I’m doing so many things wrong.”

Jesus: “It is hard for you, Estelle, to imagine what freedom looks like in this area. You are quite convinced that your body is both a means to experience fleeting pleasure and a source of constant shame. You are disappointed with it. You’d rather not be bothered with loving it since you don’t respect it. But I see your body as good. Are you willing to surrender your old way of viewing your body and discover the good purpose for which I gave it to you?”

Sidenote: Jesus is great at asking those questions that cut to the heart of the matter. I like to think of myself as complex and deep; having multiple motivations for things; I have so many layers. And Jesus has this way of putting things so plainly, in a way that's honestly very offensive to my ego. He doesn't oversimplify, but he reveals that my reluctance is generally more basic than I expect.

Me: “So what you’re saying is, I am truly stuck until I give over my right to define what is ‘good’ for my body and let you show me what good really looks like.”

Jesus: “What if you acknowledged that your body obeys the law of sowing and reaping--if you sow discipline, you will reap freedom, and if you sow indulgence, you will reap dissatisfaction (and probably high cholesterol)? Instead of trying to justify eating Sheng Kee all day every day, choose to take that choice away from yourself and commit to a food plan that doesn't have room for improvising based on mood."

Me: “Ah, that's so logical. Ugh. It’s true that I do expend a lot of mental energy justifying my choices on complex grids that weigh costs and benefits; and in so doing, create enough background noise that I can avoid hearing things like this that are so direct and difficult to hear. I ‘need’ this food/drink right now to stay awake. Or, I might swing to the other extreme by saying, I’m not worth the energy it takes to love myself well by carving out time to exercise, eat properly. And when I inevitably mess up, I reinforce the cycle of blaming, shaming, and using negative feelings to get myself to do better.”

Jesus: “It is good to be as truthful as possible when evaluating your own habits. You don’t have to attach judgment to true statements. Truth sounds like, ‘Today I ate three chocolate cheesecakes, pizza, garlic fries, chicken wings, and ice cream.’ It doesn’t have to become a validation or rejection of your character.”

Me: "But isn't it pathetic and sad that I can't exert control over my appetite? Don't I have to believe that?"

Jesus: "Actually, being deficient in self-control reflects only that you are a young human being. It actually is an invitation to the process of maturing. This is a process that every human being undergoes. The ones who have been faithful to the process for a long time are certainly more mature than those who are just starting, but that does not make them intrinsically more worthy."

Me: "So, with the people I admire, if it's not their talents, gifts, skills, achievements that makes them worthy, then what does? Where does their worth come from?"

Jesus: "Their worth comes from how loved they are. Not something that has any relation to their ability, skills, resume, even how Christian they are. My Father loves them more than they could ever deserve. He loved me before I ever did any miracles. He loves you, too. Not for what you can do for him: you only exist because he sustains you. He loves you because he is love."

Me: "So it is God's unconditional love for me that actually gives me my worth, and humbles me because it isn't about how I achieved anything; I didn't do anything to get God interested in me. Judging myself is choosing to reject God's love and make me the judge instead of God. But if I accept that I don't deserve to be loved, where do I get my motivation to try to do anything?"

Jesus: "I'm so glad you asked, because that is the best part. You live for and work for joy. You endure all things for the sake of joy. For the joy set before me, I endured the shame and scorn of crucifixion, of being falsely accused of being a criminal, being executed, and enduring humiliation in that process. But it was for the joy that was set before me that I chose that. It was worth it. Once you taste eternal joy, you no longer want to settle for the meager fleeting pleasures that achieving things for your own advantage brings. You are free to live for what is most beautiful."

Me: "When I'm honest with myself, that is what I really want. It's why I moved to Berkeley to staff here. It's why I am staffing BayUP this summer, even though I am honestly very afraid to do it."

Jesus: "Your honest confessions of your fears and limitations allows my work in your heart to be made visible to your students and co-workers, to your donors, to the campus. Just as the cracks in a broken vase allow the light to come in, your imperfections make space for my light to be displayed. Now ask these students to take courage from my love for them and confront their own weaknesses for the sake of joy."

So we're going to take a few minutes on our own with Jesus. You just heard a conversation similar to many conversations I have with Jesus about things I don't like or understand. We're making space for you to be in that place with Jesus and think about: are there places that I'm stuck in, or weaknesses that I keep facing and feel bigger than what I can do about them? This can be something chronic, mental health, physical health, a relationship, or maybe a series of relationships, like your family? It could be your relationship with God, or with church, or with InterVarsity, or any number of things. But take this space to consider, what is that area that causes me shame? What is that area that I feel stuck in and unable or unwilling to do anything about? We'll reflect on that for about six minutes and as God leads you, consider, what is the invitation to joy that he offers you in that difficulty?

What does it mean to know we are Made Well?

This year's theme for our Asian Pacific American (APA) InterVarsity conference was Made Well. Many Christian APA students struggle to find meaning and purpose in their ethnic heritage, whether their families have lived in this land for many generations or have recently arrived. 

Since the term "APA" encompasses a diverse range of experiences, the conference also aimed at expanding our definition of who is in our APA family (Southeast Asian, South Asian, Islander, etc.) and creating spaces for underrepresented narratives to be shared and valued.

What did that look like, you ask?

As each person arrived at the conference, they were invited to have their picture taken with a sign saying "Made Well." 

Then we added their photo to the wall collage!

Each person also reflected on the following questions:

What do you like best about your cultural or ethnic heritage?

Answers pictured:

honor/respect; large families are fun; the making of food, bomb food; hospitality and respect for elderly; love in our actions; Dat Korean BBQ all day, every day; family loyalty; favorite thing? The FOOD!; Self-Sacrifice; Korean food and pop culture

What are some fears and insecurities about who you are?

Answers:

any emotion is dangerous; being overweight; not manly enough; not good enough; parents control too much of life; losing my ethnic culture/language; pressure to be successful; grades; failure; my voice is not important; feel less worth when I'm alone

The weekend's speaker, Jonathan Tran, shared his experience as a Vietnamese immigrant whose family struggled financially in the United States. He invited those of us with different stories (parents who came over for education, not to escape war and poverty) to embrace our own struggles as well as those of others. He reminded us that our experiences being an immigrant people are what enable God to use us fully in this world, pointing us to God's work through Moses with the Israelites in the desert.

He also called attention to the ways we are sorely tempted to "settle" -- to try to make a permanent home in a land we are journeying through -- by following various scripts that the world offers. We try to escape the discomfort of being caught between multiple worlds: am I Asian enough if I don't speak the language? am I American enough if I don't constantly talk and assert myself? Maybe if we acquire enough money, familial approval and cultural fluency, we'll finally feel at home.

On the other hand, if we stay with the tension of not fitting in, we could be called into the restorative work God is doing with others who are not welcomed into the social structure of this country because of class, race, or simply the perception that they pose a threat.

I appreciated this word because it made space for there to be pain and confusion in our journey--in fact, this very pain and confusion would serve to shape us into the blessing God intended us to be! It's very counter-intuitive to the narrative of "I suffered so that you, my child, could experience opportunity and never suffer" but I am constantly reminded:

"As the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts."

Isaiah 55:9

Made Well -- InterVarsity's Asian Pacific American Conference

Made Well | APA 2014 Recap from David Luoh on Vimeo.

Discipleship Cohort Photoshoot

We started off the semester with a two-day conference for the leaders. The first morning we spent in solitude and silence, walking around the campus before it got crazy busy and full. Then we came back together and sang together on Memorial Glade!

Soaring Upward on Thermals

Spring Semester is here!

In the Kingdom of God at UC Berkeley, students and staff alike are learning a new way of participating in what God is doing. It looks like this:

http://www.3sigma.com/prisoners-of-our-own-device/

We are learning to identify the spiritual thermals (rising columns of warm air) that already exist all around us and to soar with them to new heights. Instead of madly flapping our wings (read: recipe for burnout) in an attempt to gain altitude, we're taking a lesson from the birds God has created and trusting that when we do less, He does more.

Since we are people, not birds, what does this look like?

1. Communal prayer is happening more often! We have two weekly student-led prayer times, asking God to show us what He's up to in the lives of our friends, classmates, focus groups, and the world.
2. We are opening up more about our struggles. It takes a lot of faith for students to put down their polished masks and trust that it is actually good for our community and for our relationships with God to come clean about what's underneath: the darker stuff that goes largely unacknowledged by a highly competitive campus environment.
3. We are taking to heart what God tells us and making new choices. For many of the students, this looks like pursuing something that they are deadly afraid to fail at because it actually matters to them, like music and writing for some of our Electrical Engineering Computer Science (EECS) folks. For others, it looks like finally acknowledging workaholism is tied to pride in one's performance and trusting that letting go of some units is actually a faithful and God-honoring choice.

Wow! Praise God for the ways that He's engaging our whole community in this dynamic shift. It's not a brand-new concept, but there's a newness of hope and joy that I'm seeing each day and in each interaction with students. Please join me in celebrating and praying for more release of God's gifts within these beautiful sons and daughters!

My Testimony

My name is Estelle, and I want to give glory to God. 

2013 was a big year for me. In March, I made a watershed career/life decision and transferred from working at an InterVarsity chapter at Stanford to staffing the multiethnic chapter at Cal. God had already called me to the mission field, specifically to cross-cultural contexts in which I would be the least comfortable so that I would have the most opportunity to see Him use me for the kingdom. I saw the move to Cal as a step in the direction of that calling, a step that would take me out of the known, safe environment I'd been calling home for seven years and into new territory to try my wings.

Calling the move "uncomfortable" is a whopping understatement. Without deep friendships waiting for me in the East Bay, I felt incredibly lonely and turned to my work to fill that void. Unfortunately, staff work is notoriously unstructured and difficult to evaluate, so while I became very anxious about my performance and proving myself to be a good staff, I actually had very few concrete measures to go by. After a few weeks of escalating fear, I fell headlong into a depressive episode that made it difficult to remember why I had moved, what was good about my being at Cal, and whether God was a good, loving provider.

In this terrible time, the core narrative that developed was, "God must see this pain, and He must have anticipated it, but He allowed it. Not only that, but it's at such an extreme point that I am considering leaving Cal before I've been here a full month. He must want me to solve this myself, so I can't count on His help. I am completely alone."

With the severity of this depression, I felt as though whatever safety net I had foolishly expected to be there was absent. I could not interpret for myself why this was happening, let alone for other people, so meeting new people felt even more challenging. I wanted to be the "me" I had been at Stanford, but I was instead this frightened, lost, and helpless version of myself that was looking to other people for direction. This felt particularly undesirable in the realm of ministry where I am seen as a leader, responsible for bringing order and guidance. When it came to listening to God, I could not hear his response, however much I cried out to him. I remember praying, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me, a sinner" for an hour straight, sobbing in the midst of not knowing what was happening or why. I did not know what to do.

I see this as a moment of wilderness. In fact, the passage from Deuteronomy 8 was prophesied over me by someone at Stanford in the spring. I saw scorpions and snakes, I felt thirsty and hungry, I lacked direction and wondered if it was a good thing to have left Egypt. What if I had just made up this "calling" and now I was paying for my mistake? If that was the case, how would I ever make a big decision again? My confidence in myself was shot, and no one could really speak that truth over me because they didn't know me as well.

When I think back to the fall, I see more than just the narrative my fear painted for me. In fact, just as the Israelites' shoes did not wear out and their feet did not swell for forty years, I ended up in the care of a psychologist who was able to help me. She pointed me in the direction of some new concepts: self-compassion, mindfulness, ephemerality (thoughts and emotions don't last forever), and how Jesus encounters me not solely in words, but also through physical gestures (hugs). Though I could not always depend on people to know what I needed, people asked me what they could do. I had a friend who hugged me for probably 20 minutes while I just cried into her shoulder. My supervisor did what he could to help me enter in at a gradual pace and affirmed that he wanted to see me thrive in the long term.

I came face-to-face with my own fragility, and it overwhelmed all my attempts to get around it or ignore it. As I wrestled with what it meant to potentially have a chronic mental illness, I realized that my vulnerability would not be assuaged by a poultice of words, but only when bathed in tangibly expressed love would it be transformed into something that connects, rather than disconnects, me to God and to others made in His image.

It was my pride that died, painfully nailed to a cross of shame.

It was my joy that He revived, a joy that encompasses the pain that underlies all human experience.

Fall Conference Recap

Knotted | Fall Con 2013 Recap from David Luoh on Vimeo.