Theological Thoughts for Thursday

Vincent Van Gogh didn’t have much to say for his faith in his thirties. It is clear that he never outright recanted his faith in Jesus Christ. It is also clear that he couldn’t define his faith. The young man who started sketching the poor he was sent to as a missionary, ended up taking his own life at 37. No art history class skips the significance of his contribution to the art world, no theology class would dare to dwell on his contribution to Christian thought.

“That God of the clergymen, He is for me as dead as a doornail. But am I an atheist for all that? The clergymen consider me as such — be it so; but I love, and how could I feel love if I did not live, and if others did not live, and then, if we live, there is something mysterious in that. Now call that God, or human nature or whatever you like, but there is something which I cannot define systematically, though it is very much alive and very real, and see, that is God, or as good as God. To believe in God for me is to feel that there is a God, not a dead one, or a stuffed one, but a living one, who with irresistible force urges us toward aimer encore; that is my opinion.”

Vincent didn’t quite fit in as a missionary. In an era in which missionaries lived in compounds on high hills and ministered to the wretched down below, Van Gogh slept on straw in a closet behind the local bakery. He cried himself to sleep some nights. He fell in love with the people. His superiors accused him of “undermining the dignity of the priesthood” and he was dismissed.

“The more I think it over, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

Faith is a fragile thing. The God of our childhood doesn’t always last through awkward teen years. The God of our zits, braces, and bad year book photos usually doesn’t make it through 4 years in college. The God who protected us through keggers and bad decisions evolves into the God who watches over our children, and then our grandchildren. Faith is a fragile thing.

We as followers of Jesus must constantly be in a position to reevaluate our faith. We must be willing to see what aspects of God we have invented (hint: if God hates the same people as you …) and what parts are true to Christ and his life and ministry.

Vincent Van Gogh struggled with mental illness and sickness for the rest of his life after his failed attempt at being a missionary. He also painted some of history’s most stunning and well-known paintings. He incorporated the spiritual into many of his paintings – even as he struggled defining his own faith journey, he knew that it was important that the world see God in his artwork.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday

We celebrate Advent with hope and celebration.

But, I can't help but wonder what Jesus was thinking before he left heaven to come to earth as a baby.

Was he nervous? Excited? Afraid?

We know that Jesus, before his execution, prayed that "this cup shall pass, if it be Your will." But, I imagine that Jesus knew - before he came to earth - exactly how it would end.

As we hope and anticipate presents and family meals to commemorate the birth of our Savior - I hope we can pause to remember how magnanimous his birth truly was.

God; being truly perfect, holy, and divine; chose to enter our world - to set up tent among us - and to come as a baby. To shed all outward signs of power, prestige, and divinity and become one of us! To share in our suffering.

Missions is an "incarnational" experience. You can't succeed as a missionary unless you "set up tent" with the people. Unless you live their life, speak their language, eat their food, and drink their water you can't have a full appreciation of their life - and you can't fully share the good news of Jesus Christ. We take our model from the birth story. We live with the people - cast aside all of our titles, prestige, and importance to come and live humble with God's creation - in the hopes that we may find the opportunity to share God's great love.

Dear Jesus,
On this Christmas Eve we praise you for who you are. You are a God who is not afraid to get dirty in rescuing the fallen. You are a God who doesn't care about titles and position, but about love and human dignity. May we learn each day, from your life and ministry, how to love each other and serve humanity.
We love and praise you, Amen.

Merry Christmas friends!
Love, Michael.

3rd Person Christmas Letter

Michael Airgood had a very happy 2009.

His final semester of college was a great time in his life. He felt like a real adult. He finished his job as an America Reads Volunteer - working for 7 semesters with that program was very rewarding. He also worked for a family from church in Toccoa, painting and helping around their new house was very relaxing for him. His third job was running the Wednesday night Upstreet! program at Toccoa First UMC after the children's director left. Some weeks he pulled 50+ hours on top of a normal school schedule ... and he loved every minute of it.

His home was filled with warm gatherings of friends as he tried to cram every get together into his already hectic schedule. By the grace of God, he finished college on time with a decent GPA. He preached his first sermons at Toccoa First UMC and Kane First UMC; both were well received and he looks forward to the opportunities to preach again. Less than two weeks after graduation, Michael Airgood flew to South Korea.

Michael worked as a volunteer language missionary which provided a small cost of living stipend. Basically, the mission wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. Michael had been told that he would be working with middle and high school students who felt called to the mission field. Teaching the international language of English to future missionaries sounded like a great experience. When he arrive in South Korea he found out that he would be teaching student age 3-13 - none of whom wanted to learn English and none of whom had even considered missions. While Michael really enjoyed teaching English to the students (particularly to the youngest kindergarten students) he knew that it didn't quite fulfill his call to mission.

Michael met some wonderful people in the English speaking community in Cheonon. He has made some lifelong friends ... and really enjoyed sharing ridiculous stories from his 7 months of teaching with other people with similar experiences.

In early December, Michael resigned his post at the language school. He decided that he needed to be faithful to his call to missionary service above all else. In early January he will head to Mongolia to serve with the United Methodist missionary community there. In March he is headed to Ukraine. He will be representing the Northeast Jurisdiction in Berlin at the Global Young People's Convocation.

Michael's son, Vassya (the cat) moved to Siberia (Kane, PA) and experienced real snow for the first time. Michael's parents say that Vassya has a very cute way of drying one paw at a time in front of the wood stove. Michael hopes to visit next Christmas and see his son's technique.

This year has been truly monumental in Michael's life. As he takes his first baby steps as an adult he is learning a lot about himself, his call, and his future life.

Love, Michael.

I'm working very hard on forgiving people.

I went and visited my dear friend in a Korea prison today. It was a very sad experience, but one I am glad to have had.

We weren't allowed to speak English, because the guard had to monitor our coversation.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday

Sometimes the postlude is truly an epic event.

It's usually a holiday, perhaps Christmas or Easter, when it happens.

The song works into a grand crescendo. The bravado of the final notes consumes the entirety of the sanctuary. Debbie holds the last combination of notes out for effect and, at just the right moment, she releases her hold on the keys.

The grand instrument falls silent - and the moment happens - the audible, collective gasp, the last breath of the echo, the stunned expression as hands go up; just waiting for the unfamiliar post-postlude applause.

I call it the "well done thou good and faithful servant" moment.

It's the sound I want to hear when I get to heaven. It's the sound that I occasionally want to hear in my life here and now - because I need that comfirmation. I need affirmation in my own life. I need to know that I'm on the right track, doing the right things, and following as I should.

I need that moment now and then.

P.S. This is my 500th blog entry.

I really feel like I'm going to need some therapy after leaving Korea ... or at least some cathartic writing exercises. Be prepared for a few posts in January about my time here!

Dr. Leila Denmark

This is my favorite person ever. Leila Denmark is 111, turning 112 in a few short months.

She is the longest serving pediatrician in American history. She retired at 103.

She was the only woman in her class in Med school.

Oh, she is also a co-developer of the pertussis vaccine.

She doesn't drink cow's milk or fruit juices. She only drinks water, and she thinks you should follow suite ... or at least your children should. She refused cake at her 100th and 110th birthdays because it contained processed sugar.

That might sound a little extremist, but that's what people said when she was one of the first doctors to recommend that pregnant women shouldn't take drugs and that adults shouldn't smoke around children.

It literally feels like everything just fell into place. Dates lined up perfectly. There is clarity where there had been confusion.

I really needed this. Even if things don't go as planned, this sense of calm has been amazing at this point in my life.

I've never felt so at peace with the notion that everything I build up can come crashing down, and everything God has accomplished will stand strong.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday

I used to quote a Bible verse I learned in French class when I was in trouble.

"Car je suis fier de l'Evangile: c'est la puissance de Dieu par laquelle il sauve tous ceux qui croient, les Juifs d'abord et aussi les non-Juifs" Romans 1:16

It really doesn't have anything to do with being in trouble ... but often, in a difficult situation, my mind goes a little blank.

I was climbing Mt Curahee with the youth group kids last year, and I didn't think I was going to make it. I quoted the verse over and over again. I climbed and climbed, and quoted and quoted. And then I threw up. And then I sat down. And then I didn't make it up the mountain.

I'm not a quitter. It's not who I am. And when I couldn't make it up that mountain, it was a real low point in my life. I didn't quote the verse in French anymore. I didn't quote any Bible verse for a while.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but some part of my faith had been crushed under the weight of that mountain.

My part. The me part. The part where it's all about what I have done. I'm a red-blooded American, and we stand proud on our accomplishments. It's hard to move past my culture and accept aspects of faith that fly in the face of my traditions.

It's not about us. It's about God. I was trying to rely on myself and a "magic" Bible verse to get me through difficult situations - and I needed to learn to rely on God.

I think that the Christmas season is a perfect time to re-learn this lesson. As we obsess over the rich, powerful, and in-charge in our daily lives ... Christ comes to us as the lowest expression of our humanity. A poor baby. Born in a backwater. Of possibly illegitate circumstances.

I see this tiny Baby, and He reminds me what my faith needs to look like.

Yeah ... sorry.

OK, so obviously this experiment didn't work out. I haven't been slacking, though. I promise. I had to move out of my home in an emergency situation and I lost my internet. I now have to pay a hefty sum on a per-minute basis ... and I've had a lot to accomplish on the internet these last few days!

I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do for Christmas ... I will be in Korea and will be family-less! It's always fun to try and figure out new ways to celebrate an old holiday. I might go on a cruise - that captures the true spirit of Christmas (well, it captures it at least as well as an x-box would!)

Theological Thoughts for Thursday - Advent 3

We sometimes compare advent to waiting for Christmas gifts. And, truly, Jesus Christ was the world's greatest gift.

But waiting isn't always a positive thing.

Sometimes waiting can be dreadful. It’s not always the wait that is difficult, sometimes it’s what’s at the end of the waiting period that makes it painful.

When we wait for lab results – we don’t wait in anticipation, we wait in dread.

We wait for the other shoe to drop.

When we wait for the police officer to walk up to our car – when we find out if we are going to get a ticket or a warning – we wait in dread.

The religious leaders of the day waited for the coming Messiah filled with anticipation. They longed for the strong and mighty political and military leader they had been promised. Perhaps, had they known what the Messiah would bring; they would have waited in dread.

Jesus came and turned the world upside down. The religious elite could only grasp salvation if they were willing to let go of their power. The poor, brokenhearted, hungry, and meek became the new power-players.

The rules no longer existed – if your intention was to keep trying to work your way into the Kingdom of God; it would be much harder. If you were willing to give up your life – salvation was simple.

We look toward Christmas with anticipation. But, perhaps we should take this season to examine our hearts. Perhaps we should take this moment to decide if we are willing to give up our lives. That might instill at least a moment of dread.

In many ways, I’m part of the religious elite. On Thanksgiving I said the Thanksgiving prayer. I have an eclectic group of friends – some Christian, some not, some anti-religious, some ambivalent. I love all of them and appreciate their unique faith journeys. I was so challenged to pray without using my familiar “Christianese” vocabulary. Praise, grace, mercy, savior … all words that lack meaning outside the context of the Christian church.

Am I willing to give up my power and position? As a Christian, a missionary, a well-behaved church boy? Am I willing to lose all of those titles so that my friends can know the good news? Jesus said, “prostitutes and tax-collectors will enter the Kingdom of God before the religious elite…” and I never got that. I still can’t articulate the meaning I’ve found. But, I think it has something to do with me, with my church, and with my friends.

Anticipation mixed with a little dread?

Advent 2

I recommend a new tradition in gift giving for your family this year. Please read this article about The Advance - Alternative Gift Ideas.

My personaly philosophy is that gifts should be meaningful - not expensive. But, if you have someone who is difficult to shop for; perhaps this could be the perfect gift.

Advent 1

To celebrate Advent I've decided to attempt an ambitious blogging project. I'm going to blog every day until Christmas. I'm not going to promise anything inciteful, just an attempt to think, write, and post during the advent season.

I've managed to only miss a few Thursdays this year ... so we'll see how I do on my new challenge.