I've had a very good week as far as ministry is concerned.

On Sunday I gave a mission presentation to my Sunday School class. It's so easy for a missionary presentation to become so fake and so phony. Just the ersatz smile and a video projector flashing images of third-world normality to a sea of gazing eyes - shocked and bewildered that the heathen-savages could live in such squalid surroundings. This was totally different. The people were my friends - who have supported me through thick and thin - who know my many faults and weaknesses and who love me anyway. I showed seven pictures and talked for 45 minutes. I told stories about dear friends ministering in Russia. Everyone enjoyed a good laugh at one point, I was explaining that in Russia the church is seen as a sect and that becoming a Christian is anti-authority - that the Christians in Russia are the rebels. One man piped up, "You fit in just fine then didn't you." It is enjoyable to share the successes and failures of my time overseas with such a close-knit audience.

I taught my small group this morning and gave my testimony at a men's hall prayer meeting tonight. Both were spontaneous and both went well. I'm beginning to connect the bigger picture and to believe that I am gifted for teaching ministries. It's been a very encouraging week.

On this Sunday I will be helping with communion. It's always a privilege and an honor to serve God in the small insignificant moments in life; praying that for just one person that moment would become large and of utmost significance in their life.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday - Dahmer's Salvation

I was reading an article on the conversion of Jeffrey Dahmer, who became a Christian through the ministry of a certain Rev. Ratcliff after Dahmer's father sent him evangelical literature:

"Yet the tenets of his faith do allow for someone to be washed clean in the eyes of God once faith has been proclaimed. No matter who might criticize this, Ratcliff is following what he genuinely believes. ...Throughout Dahmer's lifetime, he was an accomplished liar, and there's no indication in his discussions with Ratcliff that he has arrived at any profound insight about what he did. The appearance is this: Dahmer killed seventeen young men, kept body parts around, cannibalized human remains, and enjoyed sexually violating the dead. He deprived these victims of their lives. He deprived families of their loved ones. And with baptism, he learns, he can undo all of that and still get to heaven. What a deal!"

What a deal, indeed.

Now, the conversion of Jeffrey Dahmer is quite a scandal for a number of reasons.

First, we wish for all the world that someone as sick and twisted as Jeffrey Dahmer lives on a different plane from us, a different planet than the human race, and a with a different set of rules governing salvation and spiritual experience. We are angered when movies try to humanize Hitler. When the Biopic on Dahmer's life aired in the city that suffered under his murders, the people rioted because it "humanized" him too much. What does that mean?

Second, the argument has been advanced, and history has shown, that if a serial-killer is convinced of the depravity of his own deeds and brought to the realization of what he actually accomplished he will invariably kill himself. Given the counceling required to show them the immensity of their crimes they will kill themselves.

So, if Dahmer really and truly repented of his sins he either didn't fully understand what he had done or he had the fullest understanding of grace any Christian has ever understood. I don't question other people's salvation. I make it a practice to take people at face value when it comes to their personal faith experience. So I believe Dahmer. I believe that Dahmer is in heaven now.

This is a paradox of the Christian faith that I love. Terrible, terrible people end up in heaven thanks to a last minute prayer while wonderful, lovely people end up in hell because they refuse to believe. Now, this is a paradox, a theological stumbling block that most liberals can't abide with - and I have my own issues (namely what of those who have never heard, sincere members of other faiths, etc) to be sure- but I think this paradox is central to my understanding of the Christian faith.

It's not about me. It's not about the good things I have done, the bad things I have done, it's about God's grace. It's about the offer and the acceptance. Surrender, lordship, discipleship. Faith, hope, and love.

It's about all of these noun/verb/adjectives. It's a paradox, a struggle, a faith.

The Slate 60

Leona Helmsley might possibly qualify as the worst rich person in the world. Leona died at the tender age of 87 this year, and managed to make the Slate 60. She left $12 million to her dog and refused any money to two of her grandchildren. She left the bulk of her estate ($5-8 billion) to the charity she and her husband founded. The main recipients of the charity? Dogs. She has requested (but with no legally binding action) that the money go to help dogs.



She also left her private chauffeur $100,000. Which is nice, kind of.



In contrast Michael Bloomberg has been in the top 10 list of the Slate 60 for the last few years (and possibly longer, I'm a little lazy and only checked back 4 years) and gives to a number of charities. One year he gave to 995 different charities.


Slate recently posted a list of the biggest charitable contributions of the year.

He has given anonymous gifts of 5-20 million each year to an arts fund in NYC. He is truly a great philanthropist. I wish that more billionaires were like him.

Goodmorning starshine, the earth says, "Hello!"

I'm in a constant state of flux. I don't know what I am. It's all relative. I go to Toccoa Falls, so here:



But I feel that when I leave here, because I was here:



That's fundamentalist, for anyone who isn't comfortable with things the youth say. I also have one that is what I want in life, but it also holds me back or scares people away. Sometimes when I say it I blush just a little:



When I was in Middle School I got one a lot that I don't hear anymore. I know it's still true, but I think that grown up people are just a little nicer than little kid people:



These labels don't mean anything, I think they never did. Somedays we base our lives, our truth, our hopes on silly stickers that say Hello. We question if we do belong, or if we ever did. Some we refuse, or try to hide. Others we strive for. But theses labels don't mean anything, I think they never have.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday

I’ve fallen out of line with the current trends. I don’t know any of the artists on the top iTunes list. I only know the people in 3 of the posters at the Wal-mart poster display. I haven’t had a car with tricked out rims roll up beside me with a recognizable tune blaring in … ever … in ever.

Now, I’ve never been cool. And I accept that fact, but I’ve never felt how “un-cool” I really am. The kids in my youth group like me specifically for this reason. I am so unfathomably un-cool, that I swing around to the other end of the cool-meter and end up on the cool side. It’s a happy accident that I take full advantage of.

I belong to a denomination that is fighting the battle of cool. The United Methodist church follows Jesus the Christ who lived on earth until about 1,975 years ago. We also form our theology around the thoughts of a man who turned 300 a few years ago, John Wesley. We are painfully un-cool. For a quick example, a recent news article on umc.org was titled Bish Schna Z raps with UM bloggers. I’m not kidding. God, I wish I was kidding.

At least blogging is a start. Bishop Will Willimon blogs and maintains a pod cast - that's vital for anyone who counts reaching youth and young adults with the Gospel.

A number of pastors and seminary students keep regular theological blogs. I enjoy this one.

For a really special look into how un-cool the UMC is, take a quick trip to the United Methodist Church's Board of Communication. This site is almost impossible to use and communicates NOTHING about the UMC. I just think that we can do better.

I think that it should be added to the process of becoming an ordained minister that you must post to a blog once a week.

So many of our church meetings could be done by keeping a community message board active.

We could expand the Sunday morning service experience by posting the scripture and a few questions on a blog the monday before the sermon.

With the internet we could engage a whole new generation. We could wildly improve the results of giving to the advance by creating a site similar to Kiva (which I wrote about earlier) to show people exactly what their second mile giving is accomplishing.

If we adopted a similar system for the Russian church we could challenge the Russian churches to show exactly what they need money for instead of just throwing money at them and hoping for the best.

We could text message scripture throughout the sermon to those with cell-phones (on vibrate) instead of making people pick up clunky old books to read the scripture before the sermon.

We are teaching the most relevant message in the world ... all I'm asking is why we can't teach it in a relevant fashion.

Today is a proud day for America. A day that will not soon be forgotten, from which much change will stem. Today the American people proved that we are capable of overcoming hatred, that injustice is not a sustainable lifestyle, and that our hearts and minds can be won by a voice of truth in the midst of dark,dulcimer tones.

That morality is more than hot-button issues draped in American flags, is a fact that took us too long to realize; and one that needs our continued attention. Morality is about people living in peace with their God and with each other, and while those tender topics we trade back and forth have a place in that equation, today's moral victory shouts in praise where they have merely whispered common gossip.



When Martin Luther King Jr. was martyred, my parents were 13. At 54 they witnessed MLK's greatest legacy, the swearing in of Barack Obama. We have a holiday, a stamp, a few elementary schools, and a few museums to honor the work of Dr. King. This day, we add a president to that list. Thank you Dr. King, and may your life and death remind us that we have so much more to fight for.

So many more unalienable rights that we crush with our desire for exclusion and supremacy. In my little corner of the deep south, racism still lingers below the surface - glaring its ugly head less and less as each year passes. Barack Obama was six years old when Dr. King was murdered. I pray fervently for the number of six year olds who today witnessed this great redemption for that crime. I pray that they may also dare to dream.

I have written the Theological Thoughts for Thursday section of my blog through the month of February. Including a 3 part study on sin. Enjoy. - Michael.

I recently went to the Shakespeare Tavern in Atlanta, GA. We watched Doctor Faustus performed by two players. The theatre is designed as a dinner hall, and during small plays people are seated on the stage. We happened to be seated in the balcony, directly behind the crucifix that Doctor Faustus talked to throughout the play. Every time he mocked Christ, begged for His mercy, or referenced God he stared straight at us. He looked directly into my eyes and pleaded for Christ to show him mercy.

The play is a masterful look into the lostness of man and a gut-wrenching view of the depravity behind the choice to follow our sin instead of God.

On a less cultured, classy, and theological note; I saw The Unborn recently. Great movie! Just an wonderful piece of trash to enjoy in a packed theatre. After the movie I convinced everyone to go to Arby’s (which is a usual occurrence after theatre for my group of friends.) It was a less than stellar conversation. We moved seamlessly from discussing the hot butt of the actress in the horror film into the deep theological arguments for and against demon possession of Christians. If you go to the wikipedia site I linked to, you can view the actresses but, it was aparently THE selling point of the movie.) Sometimes I’m more than a little embarrassed at the caliber of conversation that surrounds me.

I recently joined an Internet site. Kiva is a micro-credit lending institution that connects individuals from around the world to individuals in the emerging world to become a small part of a micro-credit process. I'm still deciding what my first investment should be, but how it works is you look over the profiles of people looking to start new businesses and give $25 toward a loan for that individual. There isn't any interest for the mini-lender, but you are repaid (most of the organizations Kiva works with have almost no loan default) and you get to help an impoverished person or community work out of poverty.



It's a great model, first popularized by Muhammed Yunis who was the 2006 Nobel Peace Laureate. It's a great idea ... if you would like to join, just leave a comment or send me an e-mail and I will send you an invitation.

Theological Thought for Thursday

Bishop Will Willimon keeps a blog and a podcast. For a major leader in a denomination that is trying to win the hearts and minds of a new generation this is wildly important.

One of his podcasts was entitled, "The best little whore house in Jericho." He told the story of Rahab (Joshua Chapters 2&6). Rahab was a prostitute. This would be enough information to eject her from any pew in America, but the story continues. Rahab lied to help the enemies of her country gain access to the walled city. This would never recieve a Bush pardon. But God spared Rahab's life and the lives of her whole family and God blessed them.

Bishop Willimon used this text for a sermon on All Saints' day. This prostitute does little to conjure up the images we hold most dear of "saint." We sometimes jokingly refer to my mother as "Saint Debbie the Meek," because she fits the bill of sainthood. Dorothy Day once said, " Don't call me a saint. I don't want to be dismissed so easily."

I am not a saint. No one has confused me for a saint in at least three years. I cuss; I enjoy good food, good friends, and a good time more than I should; and I laugh a little too loud for polite conversation. I hold no trappings of sainthood and yet I love God with all of my heart. I pray, and read my Bible, and hold others accountable. I love God and love people fiercely and publicly confess and claim my sins. I make friends with nobodies and encourage those who could change the world to change their lives.

I once thought that being a good Christian meant smiling a lot. When I went to Russia, I realized that in Moscow smiling a lot meant you were an idiot. My whole concept of the Christian faith had to change to survive. Five Iron Frenzy sang, "I don't listen well, don't smile enough." There is more to Christianity.

I don't want others to see Christ in me because of my T-shirt, my bumpersticker, or my absence of social faux-pas. I don't want nice church ladies to say I'm a good Christian because I have all the right friends and proper clothes. I want my alcoholic friend to tell me that I'm different. That Christ would shine through my actions, my words, my mistakes, and my life. That no one would ever confuse me with a good little church boy, but that others may see Christ's love in my life.

I just finished Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. Outliers aims to prove that being truly great doesn’t depend on IQ or ability level, but rather a myriad of factors including dumb luck, upbringing, and ancestries stretching hundreds of years. He uses data to show that lower-income children only learn less than upper-income children because of summer vacation. He proves odd and random facts, and lines up family histories for generations to show how many factors had to fall into place for any one person to become who they are – and how we can change things to create more opportunities for more children to make more truly successful people. An interesting read, but one that has the potential to change the world if we truly took its message to heart.

In one section he discussed the role that parenting plays in a child’s upbringing. On the way to the doctor the wealthy mother asks her son if he has any questions to ask the doctor. She encourages him to ask the doctor the questions he comes up with. She gives him a sense of entitlement. Few of the lower-income children’s parents encourage them to question the doctor, to speak up for themselves, or to interrupt an adult.

I realize, that although I come from a lower-income household, our mother always taught us that we were entitled to the best the world has to offer. Our mother taught Rebecca and I that if we were doing good, people would want to help. I had no qualm about raising money to do mission work. I knew I wanted to be an exchange student and I just did it. I fundraised the money and got my shots and filled out all of the paperwork. The year I was an exchange student; 10,000 Russian high school students spent the semester in America – 10 Americans spent the semester in Russia. The last academic exchange student we sent from my high school was in the early 70s and she had to be sent home early after being beaten by her host family and hospitalized for organ damage. I decided I would do it ... and I did it.

When I wanted to move off campus, I knew I would move off campus. If they wouldn't let me off for medical reasons I would have married a girl who also wanted off campus. The first time I saw my house I knew I would live there. I was the youngest student living off campus when I first recieved permission. I had been rejected on three levels and my last course was to go directly to the board of trustees. I began looking up bios of the trustees to see with whom I could naturally connect.

I'm in the application process to be a GBGM missionary. I spent a little time on the GBGM website looking through the missionary biographies. I realize that I don't look much like most of the missionaries. Most have a masters, the youngest missionaries I could find were in their thirties. Most were old men and women who had served their time in the states. But, I know that this is where God is calling me. I don't care what it takes, I'm going to be a GBGM missionary.

I love this particular postsecret, because I identify in so many ways. That tremendous feeling of being ready to go, keys in the ignition, a destination on the brain - and no idea what roads will end up being the right ones. It's a thrill of a journey, and I'm ready.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday

Umc.org recently ran a profile of Tina Luce. She is the minister of music at a United Methodist church in Salem, MA. She was born blind. Her main quote in the article is, "I tend to trust people who minister with a limp more than those who don’t." I couldn’t agree more.

My cat has a broken tail. A previous owner accidentally slammed its tail in a car door, and promptly took her to the SPCA. He wouldn’t keep a cat with such an obvious deformity. People ask one of two questions when they are introduced to Vassya. Some ask, “How did he brake his tail?” Others ask, “How did his tail get that cute little curly-Q?” Vassya almost always relates better to those who notice his cute curly-Q of a tail than those who notice his imperfections.

Ministering with a limp involves the disabled, but it goes far beyond that. I minister with a limp. My sister ministers with a limp. Sometimes we tell the other stories of how God is using us, and the tone we use conveys nothing short of awe and amazement. There is no pride, no selfishness, no arrogance in our voice. There is shock – God still chooses to use us! To use our limp in ministry.

When Rebecca was living in Erie she attended Erie first. She called me one day to share the amazing news that God had used her to lead a youth to Christ. I’ve heard these stories before – the hook, the sink, the closer, and the prayer; all shared with a smug sense of self satisfaction. This story was different. Rebecca was crying, she didn’t really know what had happened, she was talking to this kid and then she was praying with him, and she was confused and, and, and, behind it all ran this sense of unworthiness. That God would take her from where she had been in the not-so-distant past to the place of changing a person’s life for the better ran contrary to everything she knew.

“I tend to trust people who minister with a limp more than those who don’t.” God rewards holiness, as God shows us time and again in the Bible. But God also blindsides us with radical grace and trust – as God shows us time and again in the Bible and in our own experience – using us, our limp, our tiny faith in ways we could never imagine.

I had a completely unproductive day. I accomplished nothing. I could have slept until this moment with equal result. However, I have posted every day for almost a week, so I'm going to post today.

I'm starting a new feature for my blog. Theological Thoughts for Thursday, is a hope-filled promise that I will try to upload something somewhat deep and Theologically meaningful every Thursday.

So, keep me accountable and we'll see how I do. - Michael Airgood.

I saw a woman wearing a Kwanzaa hat. Wikipedia calls it a Kufi. Which is fun. Kwanzaa ended almost a week ago, but the joy of the season still lingers. Wikipedia also begins a paragraph on the Kwanzaa page with "In George W. Bush's 2004 Kwanzaa speech ..." which is also fun.

I was at Shirley's Sole Food Cafe, which is a magical place of feasting delight. I'm pretty sure that Shirley doesn't celebrate Kwanzaa. That wouldn't be her style. Shirley was one of the first black children to go to the elementary school I work at; when they first started integrating the schools in Georgia.

She owns the best place to eat in town, and she also runs a mens and women's homeless shelter. She's a devout Christian who lives her faith out loud. I support her in all of her ministries, but, to me, her biggest ministries is looking across the counter at some of the most racist people and serving them with a smile.

"And they will ask, when did we see you hungry and feed you?"

22nd Birthday.

It's like milestone week around here. I turned 22 today. I went out for steak with Jacob, Sammy Ray, and Fabiola. It was wonderful.

400th Post

Sometimes Christians are derided for simplifying the Gospel message to "nothing more than love." But, in my opinion the Gospel message is nothing more than love. Love for God, for others, for enemies, for the least and the lost. Love is all you need, or so I've been told. And if it's wrong then Lennon lied to me.

So, here are a few thoughts on love that I find relevant. I can't imagine anything more appropriate to celebrate my 400th post than a celebration of what it's all about!

"I don't mind waiting in line
no, no
I don't mind if the bills pile up and the work is slow
I don't mind the gas or the groceries or the drive
gone inside with you I'm having a good time

I don't mind the stoner waiter or the poorly cooked food
I don't mind little miss kitty or her knucklehead dude
I don't mind if every last person here is ugly and rude
long as I'm with you I got a good attitude
long as I'm with you

We could be stuck in traffic for over a week
with a car full of quintuplets who are all cutting teeth
and around my neck could be a flaming Christmas wreath
and I'd be smiling under
smiling underneath

I don't mind waking up early for a flight that's delayed
I don't mind our weeks vacation was chilly and gray
I don't mind the traffic cops or the TSA
long as I'm with you I'm having a good day
long as I'm with you

I don't mind spilling my hot sauce on my white shirt
I don't mind that twinge when I walk in that knee that I hurt
I don't mind my gums peeling back or my hair getting thin
long as I'm with you, I win
long as I'm with you

We could be stuck in traffic for over a week
with a car full of Quintuplets who are all cutting teeth
and around my neck could be a flaming Christmas wreath
and I'd be smiling under
smiling under
smiling underneath"

- Smiling Underneath by Ani Difranco


"If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Love never dies"

1 Corinthians 13 The Message

"We can live without sex, but we cannot live without love." - Dorothy Day


"I am not sure exactly what heaven will be like, but I do know that when we die and it comes time for God to judge us, He will not ask, "How many good things have you done in your life?," rather He will ask, "How much love did you put into what you did?" ... "If you judge people, you have no time to love them." ... "I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love." - Mother Teresa

I've been watching a non-stop marathon of Family Guy while I clean my house. My house is mostly clean, which is good because I'm most of the way through all 5 seasons that I own. I don't understand why some people don't like this show.

OK, I guess I do understand. In this episode, the Griffin family is staying in a hotel. Peter picks up the Bible and says mockingly, "Hey, look at me. I'm a Christian. I read the Bible."

Now, I understand why people would be offended by this, really I do. But, I think that Christians need to be able to laugh at ourselves. I really think we would all be much happier if we all just took a few minutes to find something to laugh about at our own church or in our own Christian experience.

Maybe it's a showerhead shaped pulpit. (Ok, I tried to find an image of this on the internet for about 15 minutes ... and am utterly shocked that no one has posted a picture of this thing on-line yet. Hopefully Bill will read this and post a pic on his site.)

Most days I think that if I can't laugh at how we live out our Christian faith that I will just collapse under the institution. But, as I find more and more things to laugh at, I also find more reasons for hope.

Like the words spoken beneath the showerhead shaped pulpit.

postsecret.blogspot.com

I think this is my favorite. Ever.

It's another year and I'm dangerously close to my 400th blog. I decided to celebrate by giving my blog a new look. I've also added ads at the very bottom of the page ... so, feel free as I earn revenue. Ha ha.

My birthday is coming up in a few days. I'm excited to be another year older. I start classes in a few weeks, and I'm a little nervous about that. My last semester should be just fine.

I'm back in Georgia, and glad to be home. I have a few days to get my life in order before all of my friends come back.

I need to pick out 3 celebrities who I think will die this year. It's a game we play every new year, and I have lost every year. I guess I'm just bad at it. I guess there are worse things to be bad at!