Why don't we have any prophets? I mean, how weird would it be if someone was hired by a church to be a prophet?

There's this theory in the business world that you should hire the best and the brightest and not give them a job description. Just let them find a place.

Maybe we do have prophets ... we just don't call them as much.

The 400 Fund

Maybe we just don't give our prophets the credit they deserve.

Dr. Smith, my mentor, and I had a really good conversation on the topic of being an agent of change. He was ominous. He told me that as long as I as a Christian am an agent of change people will not like me. As long as I try and shake things up I will be in the minority. "You'll never be put in a position of power needed to actually make the change, but you will get close enough to make a difference."

I am becoming more and more convinced that serious change needs to happen in the church. I will ponder Dr. Smith's words for a long long time.

I'm enjoying my fall break. Jake Raynor and I drove down to Florida for the weekend. On Friday night we stopped in Macon to have dinner with my friend Brittany. We ended up spending a few hours there and watched the movie "Stardust." Interesting movie.

Jake dropped me off at my grandparent's house and then drove himself to his home in Orlando.

On Saturday the G-units and I went mall walking, sang hymns for several hours, did a crossword puzzle, and went to Golden Corral. Ah, retirement. I also took a two hour nap and organized grandma's coupons for her.

On Sunday we woke early and listened to Jerry Fallwell, Charles Stanley and then went to church and heard why Obama is the anti-Christ. Then we went out for lunch, sang hymns, did a crossword puzzle, and watched the ball game.

Jake picked me up and I'm at his house now. We are going to Universal in a little bit ... which couldn't hope to compare to the pure joy of doing crossword puzzles as a family sport. Haha.

I went to a funeral the other day. We were there to celebrate the life of an adult son of a co-worker of mine. Ben was a little older than me when he died. Beverly was devastated. There are certain rules and norms about behavior at a funeral or a viewing. The bereaved should be polite and formal. "Thank you for coming. Yes, he led a good life. It has been very difficult for the family. Your prayers are appreciated."

Beverly didn't follow any of the rules. She sobbed. She wept. Her whole body shook as tears rolled out of her stomach in audible gasps for air. She looked as though she would collapse from the pain of it all.

Jesus said, "Blessed are those who mourn." And, I don't get that. I don't understand it yet. I feel like I was blessed to see Beverly mourn. It was so refreshing to see someone be so real. I live in the deep south where make-up and big hair rule the land. Real tears are a scarcity. I don't understand how she was blessed, though.

Jesus said so many things that I just don't understand. And, it's not like I just don't have the proper hermeneutic or anything like that. Some of his sayings just don't jive with my life. Like, they weren't meant for me ... or more that those words were meant for someone else on this day and another day they'll be for me.

Maybe Jesus could have said that Blessed are those who get to see honesty. Or Blessed are the honest. Those would make more sense to me on this day. I guess the thing I'm learning right now is that everything doesn't have to make sense.

I come to the awkward realization that my life is less than radical. This shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. This shouldn’t be a surprise to me. I’m comfortable. I’m good. People like me. And, none of these things are bad. I’m glad that I’m a good person. I’m glad people like me. But I feel that my life is missing a certain amount of radicalism.

Now, I’m generally against radicalism. I’m terrified of fundamentalist anythings. I think that the world would be a lot better if everyone would just take one step to the left or right in the direction of center. My life would be better if I could just keep a little bit more center. My life would be easier if everyone around me could just keep a little bit more center.

I wonder some days why I’m good. John M. Patrick said, "He who remains good simply because he must serves necessity, not God." I wonder how often I hold my tongue because I must. Now, I don’t want to be bad. I want to be good. I just want to have the right motivation. I guess I’m just waiting for that proper motivation to fall into place. Am I obeying the rules because I don’t want to get kicked out? Am I being good so I don’t upset my friends?

I want to be more radical in my faith. But, I fear I don’t have many examples of truly radical faith. I have models of well-behaved obedient men and women who happen to be Christians. I have many such models. Most of the people around me follow all of the rules. My friend Janet owns a shirt that reads, “Well behaved women rarely make history.” It’s a great quote, and true of all people. I don’t think that having a radical, vibrant relationship with God is about following all the rules. I think it’s about so much more.

I just don’t know exactly what that “more” is. Well, it’s love. Or Jesus. Or grace. Or whatever buzz-word of the month I’m on. And I mean those words. And I find so much hope in those words and in exploring and trying to understand those words that are so crucial to the life of Christ. But at the end of the day I feel like little more than a nominal Christian. I love God and yet I love myself a lot, too. I want peace but I want to enjoy my sin as well. I want to offer grace but only on my conditions. I want to offer Christ to the homeless and hopeless – I just don’t want to have to smell them.

I’m a little bit stuck. Maybe a lot stuck. My faith is filled with so much doubt, and I’m surrounded by people who have all the answers … but they don’t seem any happier or better for it. I want to be happier or better for it. Whatever this “more” is, I want to be happier or better for it. I want to follow Jesus in a radical way. I’m just trying to find out what that means.

"Love is an act of endless forgiveness." — Jean Vanier…

I went and spoke at St. Paul UMC in Lincolnton, GA on Sunday. I spoke about my mission trip this summer and about community. It was a really fun experience.

I decorated my house for Halloween. I wish there was a super-spiritual meaning behind Halloween (because no one buys the "All Hallows Eve is Christian" line) so I didn't feel so bad that Halloween is probably my favorite holiday. I mean Easter. I love Easter most. I'm a good Christian.

I'm slowly realizing that it's less important what other Christians think about me and infinitely more important what the un-churched around me think. I want to live my life with more freedom and joy ... even if that does piss off a lot of Christians. I have a lot of thinking left to do on the subject. Maybe I'll blog about it.

Maybe.

I'm officially old. I was in Wal-Mart last night waiting for a perscription to be filled and I looked through the poster display. I only understood four of the posters. I didn't even know what the others were about. I didn't know any of the "musicians" and only got the Chuck Norris poster because his show is from my generation.

Yep. That's it. I'm officially old. Well, no need to trim my ear hair or try to keep riding the fashion train. I'm going to go eat some porridge or anything I can find that's a little less spicy than porridge.

Some days it feels like the world is going to collapse. Most days it doesn't. It's weird to hear all the latest talk about the current economic situation.

I think about the things that Jesus said about our money ... he said a lot of things about it.

He said we couldn't worship it.

He said that we didn't need it.

He said we could let it go.

He said a lot more. It makes the scary go away when we read his words.

And I think that today we just need the scary to go away for a little while.

Everest

"from the depth of the pacific
to the height of everest
and still the world is smoother
than a shiny ball-bearing
so i take a few steps back
and put on a wider lens
and it changes your skin,
your sex, and what your wearing
distance shows your *silhouette*
to be a lot like mine
like a sphere is a sphere
and all of us here
have been here all the time
yeah, we've been here all the time*

you brought me to church
cinder blocks, flourescent light
you brought me to church
at seven o'clock on a sunday night
and the band was rockin'
and the floors were scrubbed clean
and everybody had a tambourine

so i took a deep breath and became
the white girl with the hair
and you sat right beside me
while everybody stared
and through the open window
i think the singing went outside
and floated up to tell
all the stars not to hide
'cuz by the time church let out
the sky was much clearer
and the moon was so beautiful
that the ocean held up a mirror

as we walked home we spoke slowly
we spoke slow
and we spoke lowly
like it was taking more time
than usual to choose
the words to go
with your squeaky sandal shoes
like time is not a thing
thats ours to lose

from the height of the pacific
to the depths of the everest..."

I love this song by Ani DiFranco. I realize more and more the privilege it is to be part of God's redemptive plan. The joy it is to share the good news of Jesus Christ with those around us. The grace behind my small part in the story.

Sometimes I think that God will be so disappointed in me that God will stop using me. I have this ridiculously human fear that God's grace will shrivel up and die and I will be left alone in the squalor of my sinful choices. And yet, I am continually surprised by God's grace. I am reminded that God has a redemptive plan and I am part of it. With all of my wrong God still uses me. God still has a plan for me - God can and does still use even me for the great good.

Merciful Heavenly Father, thank you for using me in small ways to affect others. Thank you for forgiving me of my sins although they are numerous. God, when I fail - and I will - I want to have no fear, but rather to live in the knowledge of your grace. Thank you for including me, Lord.

I think there's this part of me that is learning to love again. Like I've just been so bitter that I couldn't love. And for a long time I just wanted to feel love. I mean, I love my friends and all ... and I have ... but I feel that I'm a lot more open to loving now. I realize that I can love without being loved in return and that its OK. It's not the end of the world if those I love don't love me with the same tenacity. I'm a lot more OK with that now.

I'm allowed to be happy. I give myself permission to love. I give myself permission to fail.

There’s this great scene in Family Guy. Baby Stewie marries Olivia, a child actress. They live in a cardboard home and have pasta spaghetti for dinner. Olivia asks Stewie how his day went and he replies, “Well, it was a long one. First I was an astronaut, then I was a cowboy, and then I was a fireman.” It’s a great montage of children pretending to live in a grown up world. At one point, a few days after the wedding, they have a conversation.

Stewie: We are in a sexless relationship. We have yet to have sex.
Olivia: Do you even know what sex is?
Stewie: Of course I do … is it some kind of cake? That’s beside the point.

As I think more and more about God’s relationship with humans, I just can’t help think that we’ve understood something terribly wrong. That at this point in our theology we have achieved little more than a disconnect. Stewie doesn’t know what sex is, but he knows he isn’t getting any. Maybe we have no concept of love. Maybe we have no concept of grace.

I realize more and more that my theology is too small. My theology is just large enough for my current life situation. My theology isn’t big enough for the Holocaust. My theology isn’t big enough for the crack whore’s crack addicted baby. My theology isn’t big enough for the bulimic, lesbian middle schooler trying desperately to fit in at youth group. My theology is simply too small.

But, as I look to Jesus I realize that somehow His theology is big enough. His understanding of God and how God interacts with us is big enough. Jesus held to a theology that was big enough for tax collectors, whores, rapists, murderers, gossipers, and lying 12 year olds.

The Bible says that God’s grace is sufficient. And I have to believe that. I have to believe that when nothing makes sense, that God’s grace is sufficient. I have to believe that whether God “has everything planned out” or whether God “doesn’t know if I’ll choose Subway or McDonalds” that God’s grace is still sufficient. I have to believe that my understanding of God and humankind’s interaction with God doesn’t change God.

That my inability to understand love or grace or forgiveness doesn’t hinder God’s ability to love or show grace or forgive.

That when my understanding of God amounts to little more than a total disconnect that God’s grace is still sufficient.

God, I just don’t understand. I don’t understand how you created me or how you still manage to love me. Your grace is sufficient, your love is tremendous, your forgiveness undeniable. May my simple life help one person understand your nature just a little bit better than I can.

Rebecca has missed my blogging, and quite frankly, so have I. I have missed the cathartic excercise.

I'm working on the application process for the General Board of Global Ministries. It makes me feel so vulnerable to know that my entire life (hyperbole?) is in their hands! All they see of me is a few slips of paper. It's so weird. I know that this is just the first step, but it still feels inadequate.

I had friends over to watch Son of Rambow. You must rent it. It is one of the best moveis I've ever seen.

I'm wrestling with the whole "view of God" dialogue. It's weird, because more than anything else I agree with the ideas behind openness. Openness says that God doesn't know the future. God is still omniscient ... he knows everything there is to know ... but that doesn't include the future.

That really jives with me. Take the holocaust: Openness says that God knew Hitler was a really bad man and that he put it in the hearts of man to stop him, but that people failed. With a Calvinist perspective, God caused the Holocaust. With an Arminian view, God knew the Holocaust was coming and did nothing to stop it.

Or, take the idea of where people go who have never heard the good news. Heaven or Hell? A strict Calvinist view is that they are not of the elect and will burn in Hell. A strict Arminian view is that God knows these people will die without hearing the word and there is nothing God can do about it. A Universalist says that they all go to Heaven. Openness could believe that God has a plan to save all of those who haven't heard, but that because we are free creatures there are a lot of us who are choosing not to follow God's plan and because of that all of those people will go to Hell. God has decided to leave their salvation in our hands, and we are screwing up ... but God holds out hope.

It's an interesting proposition, really. I'll need to think more about it.

I love reading missionary biographies. David Livingstone, Amy Carmichael, Mother Teresa, Hudson Taylor; I love their stories. It's interesting to note the things the biographer conveniently leaves out. I wonder why they never recall the dark nights of lonely passion. I wonder why the don't record the frustration of doubt: "I'm such a hypocrite, and yet I am to take Your precious good news to the ends of the earth?" I wonder why they record the numerous salvation experiences but leave out the times the missionary found himself or herself in the most unglamorous places; because the missionary call is just as significantly to the party where they're passing out cocaince as it is to Africa and grass huts. They will never write a book about the cocaine party. There isn't a market for records of massive failures in the lives of your favorite spiritual guides.

I remember the last time Facebook made a major overhaul. I remember the upset and the mutual disgust. We called it Stalkerbook because it told you every time someone ended a relationship and began a new one. I can't function without this information today. I remember the outrage only because I face it again. Facebook is again making major changes.

Change is a little hard to deal with. My church in Toccoa just swapped out both of our pastors. I was gone for the summer and haven't heard one word of complaint. Any complaining has swept past us in those two months I was gone. Maybe a whole bunch of people have left the church in disgust of the new clergy ... but the seats have been filled by others and we don't miss them.

Sometimes we're afraid of change. Even when change is good and necessary we are afraid to do it. We begin the process of adding another service at Toccoa First UMC, and I pray that we continue unafraid. Because sometimes change is good and necessary ... and often anyone who would be against it will fade away quickly. So far I haven't heard any opposition, and I feel that maybe now the people are getting it. I think my friends are beginning to understand that this change is needed.

I was talking about a heretic the other day. I was talking about a book by Bishop John Shelby Spong. Bishop Spong denies the resurrection. I'm not particularly against heresy ... but I have issue with denying the resurrection. I mean, as I see it, without the resurrection we really don't have anything to go on.

But then I started to think about it. Although my theology doesn't deny the resurrection my life does. Daily sometimes. Everytime I'm selfish and sinful I deny the resurrection. I would never think of denying it on an intellectual, theoretical level, but I don't think twice about denying it through my life. I would never misstate it in words, but I wholeheartedly deny it in actions often.

Because, for my generation they don't need proof that the tomb was empty, they need proof that our hearts are full.

Well, a lot has happened in life recently. Rebecca, my sister, is engaged. Mike, her fiance, proposed in front of everyone at our party. It was super sweet.

I'm on my way back down to Georgia. I spent a night with Bob and Ruth Higginbotham and a night with Bill and Lori Beatty. I'm on my way to Meredith Beck's house and then on to the Zambrowicz' family home. I'll get into Toccoa Late Wednedsday night or early Thursday morning.

It feels good to be independent again after spending more than a week with the family. It feels really good.

I had something really great to blog about, but I forgot it. I'm sure when I'm back in my routine I will be back to blogging regularly again.

I have been watching a lot of informercials lately. They are on TV all the time during the summer, and I enjoy watching mind numbing entertainment. It's great fun to watch the overly-excited host proudly proclaiming the most spectacular claims.

I'm amazed at how well every product works. But, while watching the wonders of television camera tricks I realize that none of the products work nearly as well as they claim. If they did, everyone's home would be spotless, all abs would be in packs of six or more, and meal preparation would never take more than 15 minutes and one gadget. We know that infomercials are fake. We hear the hurried prodding "and if you order in the next 30 seconds..." and we know that something about the message is off. If we pay attention we understand that the company knows if we spend more than 10 minutes thinking about our decision we will come to our senses.

Sometimes at church, particularly at youth gathering, I get the same vibe. I hear a person with a little too much enthusiasm proudly proclaiming the most spectacular claims. The offer is made to the gathered crowd and then the pleading begins. We use rhyming phrases. "Hell is too long to be wrong." We offer extras on the side. We give a time limit, "I'm going to keep this altar open for a few more minutes."

It's as though we are afraid that if the people stop and carefully consider the offer they will reject it. It's a sad state of affairs.

Jesus never used these tactics. He told people not to follow Him if they didn't have what it takes. He encouraged people to follow Him, but in the same breath He told them to count the cost. If they weren't willing to give up family and friends to follow Him they probably didn't have the dedication needed to follow him. He told the people that if they needed a miracle to believe then they didn't have the faith to follow anyway.

No catchy slogan, no sequined outfit, no photo-shopped pictures. Just a remarkable offer and a life to back it up.

I'm watching the olympics. I love watching athletes. I love watching such extremely disciplined people.

I consider myself a poorly disciplined person. I'm obviously overweight. (Although, at my heaviest I weighed 316 and I'm down to 266 ... so 50lbs down!) I rarely remember to take a full course of anti-biotics. I can't do 12-step programs. I just don't do discipline.

Sometimes I think I would be happier if I was more disciplined. I'll work on that. Haha.

So, I realize that I have been ignoring my dear friends who read my blog here. I have been busy updating my Russia blog.

I'm back in Kane, PA. It's weird to be home again. Mom is currenly giving a lesson to a very elderly gentleman. I'm driving my "new" car. My great-uncle failed his vision test so my grandparents got his nice, new car and I was given their '96 Oldsmobile. Mom gets my '99 Monte Carlo. My first car was an Oldsmobile. It was a '92 and was built shortly before automatic door locks and windows were available. Other than that it was truly the perfect car.

My "new" Oldsmobile is exactly like my first car, except it has both automatic door locks and windows. I couldn't be happier. I will need to find a way to use my new i-pod with the tape deck, though.

Mary Sirianni and I went out last night. We went for a walk on main street to see how many former classmates we could spot. Sadly, all of our street friends had gone into hiding by the time we took our walk.

Mom and I had a great conversation about the fact that I feel that my generation will change the world. Every time we see someone from my class smoking pot on mainstreet she asks, "That's the generation that will change the world?" I always respond in the affirmative.

I went stargazing with my German friends the other night. When we first walked together into the large field, the sun was still setting and just a few stars were visible. As the sun set further into the forest and our eyes began adjusting to the relative darkness, we began to make out a few constellations. We quickly identified the big and little dippers, mainstays of the night sky. Joe, our pastor for the week, taught me to find the north star in correlation to the dippers. The basics were clear and easy.

As the night grew darker and our eyes let in more and more starlight, more stars appeared. It was fun to find more constellations. Soon there were so many stars that I stopped trying to find the constellations and just started staring into space. I saw something of interest and decided I wanted to know where at in the sky it was. I looked for the big and little dipper … but I simply couldn’t find them anymore. There were so many new and different stars in sight that I couldn’t find the old familiar standbys.

I think that theology is a lot like this. At first we are shown the basics. “God is love.” “Love others.” We learn other tidbits of theology through these basics. As we continue to grow and our theology deepens we see more and more of the vastness that had been hidden for so long. Eschatology, angelology, hermeneutics, how many angels can you balance on the head of a pin? All of these things come running into our minds and we are thrilled with the new discoveries. Until we realize that, try as we may, we can’t pinpoint the basics. We know they are there – we know that God is still love and that we must still love others – but we can’t find them in the mess of new thoughts.

Should we therefore stop studying theology? Should we run inside and hide after identifying the first twelve stars the night has to offer? No, but we must remember to continually look to the basics that we may never lose our footing.

I just finished a very interesting book on Evangelism in a postmodern world. “Live to Tell” by Brad Kallenberg is a good start to a difficult problem. His main thesis (and I’m quite bad at pairing things down, so bear with me) is that modern Evangelistic techniques fail to work in a postmodern age because they fail to live up to the Biblical model of Evangelism and were, in retrospect, merely a response to the modernist worldview. Brad believes that if the Christian church rejected modern evangelistic techniques and took up a more biblically based approach we would see much more fruit. Intriguing – here’s what I took from it.

The 4-spiritual laws were written to pair the Gospel message down to a more palatable form that the modern world could easily swallow. Modernists took the greatest story every told and stripped it of all narrative elements (because their thought structure deplores pure narrative) and reduced it to unmovable laws. It was a brilliant strategy to win the minds of a modern world and really rather effective.

A postmodern mind, on the other hand, thrives on narrative. We need stories.

We associate the word shoe with what goes on our feet because our mothers said “shoe” as they placed them on our feet. We associate the word with comfort, with support, and with protection because we have learned that shoes are good for all of these things. Most people have no concept of God. A modern with no concept of God craves to know the bear minimum, the facts that he or she can memorize by rote and spit back on a final exam. The postmodern wants to hear a story of who God is. He or she wants to know how we know that God is good.

Now, what has always bothered me about our current evangelization efforts (namely the idea that if we just get “them” to acknowledge our religion as factually superior they must convert) is that sometimes our religion isn’t factually superior. There are items in the Christian faith that simply don’t make much sense. Islam makes perfect sense – it factually corresponds to the way we think – do enough good to cancel out your bad and you’re in! That’s the way we think … Christianity is the opposite of how we naturally think. “Give up all your rights and surrender to a God and the amount of good or bad you do is irrelevant, but do good anyway,” doesn’t make much sense. At least, not to us.

A postmodern evangelistic effort is rooted in community. Bring people into the community and allow them to see how we live. The hope, of course, is that we live differently enough to attract life change. We learn the word “shoe” as our mother put them on our feet. We learn the word “Christian” as we see them in life and on TV. We learn what it means to be a Christian as we live life with them and watch how they interact one with another.

It’s a scary prospect, to invite non-believers into our churches and homes so that they can see the lives we live. It’s a lot easier to puke up 4 laws that reduce God to fit our minds’ conceptions. But, it’s also more biblical and more in line with church tradition.

At the moment I am working at a drug and alcohol rehab center in Samara, RU. We do this, every day. We invited alcoholics and drug addicts into our home that they may see how we live. We invite them to say “our” prays with us until the prayers become “their” prayers. We invite them to follow along as we read God’s holy scriptures until our lives show the truth behind the words. We invite them to join us in singing until the songs become a form of worship for them.

And it works.

I'm really frustrated about a lot of things right now. I feel very isolated even though I'm surrounded by people.

We went to a lake today and one of the older men was like "Isn't this better than America?" Now, I try not to be too egocentric ... but no beach in Russia cold ever compare with an American one ... they simply haven't caught on to the idea that litter is bad. And this was just a little hole in the river. I get really frustrated that everyone wants me to make value calls comparing countries. I'm not some crazy flag waving Amercn, but I love the things I grew up with and the comforts I'm used to. I wish people would stop asking me which is better. I don't want to lie.

I'm also really frustrated by my lack of ability in learning a foreign language. I know it's hard for everyone, but I'm so exhausted day in and day out ... and I don't feel like I'm accomplishing anything.

I also hate it when people try and accomadate my tastes with food. When I was sick I let it out of the bag that I hate fish. Now when everyone else eats fish I get half a hunk of pork flesh. Yum.

I had a great blog all ready, but sadly the battery on my laptop is dead and I can't charge it until Sunday. Sad day.

You'll get to read it later. I'm having a really interesting time at the Rehab Center. I have a lot of time while workin the garden to pray, think, and reflect about my life and where I am headed. It's been a good time for me.

Love, michael.

So ... I'm pretty sure I'm teething. My wisdom teeth are coming in. Thank God I'm in a country where mother nature's natural cure is cheaper than water! Haha.

Well it seems I have better and faster internet here than I do at school. Go figure. I've met some really fun people at the seminary. One of the girls who works here is black - literally the first black person I have ever seen in Russia. When I saw her I assumed that she was an african AMERICAN and I started speaking at her in English. She just got a really confused look and walked away. That was awkward.

I think some of the students and I will go for a walk tonight. Tomorrow I am going to Konakovo. My primary object is to let them know that I am on my way - my secondary object is to get an address for Igor in Moscow, because I can't afford to stay at the seminary. It's costing me $40 a night! Prices in Moscow are unbelievably high. And, I would love to hang out with Igor again. If he isn't in Moscow during the summer I know a few other people who have apartments in Moscow ... now it's just down to finding a reasonable comfortable floor.

I've tried 4 times to take a shower - they are fixing the one on my floor, the one on the floor beneath mine is broken, and the other option isn't working this hour. I think I will get to use the Bishop's shower if this isn't worked out by tomorrow. Holy water. Haha. This is why I keep a separate blog for church people and one for friends. Haha.

I love airports and people watching. I love Finnish people. I love the androgenous nature of Finnish women. Such fun.

So, I had thought about going to the Korean Methodist service tomorrow night, but I figured I might still be tired from Jetlag and I didn't want to disrespect them by looking tired ... but then I thought ... how would they know. Haha. Get it. haha. Asians. Haha.

I'm reading a really interesting book on economics, "More Sex is Safer Sex." Really interesting read - I'm not sure if I agree with the author's premise, but I adore the inflammatory title!

I saw the best movie last night. "Son of Ranbow" is in smaller, trendier theatres - but it's worth the search out. A really fun movie with minimal (and appropriate) cussing, a great plot, and positive moral values.

I'm in Boston visiting John Holwick and Rachel Pollock. Last night we sat around with a few of Rachel's friends and discussed our futures. It was really fun to find myself in an environment where missions is seen as a negative.

I'm constantly surrounded by missions supporters - so to be with people to whom I had to defend my very way of life was a good change. I need to remember that when I am in Russia most Russians will not be too keen on the idea of an Ugly American coming over to "fix" them. I needed this intermediary place to remember why I am in missions and to know that I can defend what I want to do.

I'm so excited to go and explore the city today!

I'm at home for a few days. Home is difficult for me. It's weird to give up all of my personal freedoms for the joy of spending time with family. Rebecca has moved out and it done living here, so it's essentially a retirement home in waiting.

I miss my home and my friends. I will be spending a few days with John Holwick and Rachel Pollock. I'm so excited to see them again. And then I will be heading to Russia.

I have created a blog for everyone to keep up with while I am in Russia. As long as I can get on-line and post to it, it should be a lot of fun. michaelairgood.blogspot.com .

All of my grades are finally in. Two A's, two B's and a C. Not stellar but not too bad. I retain my scholarship for another semester anyway.

I'm waiting for my visa (and Passport) to arrive in the mail. I'm getting a little impatient.

I saw the most beautiful house I've ever seen. It overlooks a mountain and a river at the same time. It has a wrap around deck and at least three levels of outdoor seating. You could have the perfect party and no one would ever have to go inside!

I have nothing insightful to say. Sorry.

I haven't figured out how to check my grades with the new computer system TFC has purchased. Michael is angry! Haha.

I have an A for my independent study and a B- for my Religious Belief Systems. The 72% on my doctrinal questionaire didn't help~!

If I got an A on my math final I should get an A in the course.

My Old Testament class ... well I'm praying for a D- at the moment so I don't have to take it again. Anything above that will be a gift from the Lord.

I feel like I'm going to get a C in my photography class ... but I loved it and did all the work so I'm hoping for a good grade.

I had an amazing semester ... I spent a lot of time getting to know really good people. I have a number of really strong, passionate friendships that took a lot of investment; they were all worth it. I wish I had invested more in more people, though.

Happy Mothers' Day.

As happy as I am to spend a few more days with dear friends, I really wish I could have been home to hear my mother's postlude this morning.

I really wish I could be worshipping with mom this morning.

On Sunday Night I attended the Professor Discussion Night dealing with the topic of homosexuality.

It was one sided, naturally - but at least we are talking about it and speaking out against the "bubba effect" (homophobia). I have one statement to make regarding Queer theology (theological defense of homosexuality as anything other than a sin):

Those who search the scripture in defense of the GLBT lifestyle don't sit down with the idea, "How can I twist scripture to get it to say what I want it to." They begin with the truth that God's Holy Scripture has been used throughout the centuries for evil. They start their search with the understanding that the Bible has been used in the past to support slavery, the crusades, and the abuse of women. They look at scripture and ask, "Has God's word been twisted to the abuse of the gay community?"

And, honestly, I believe it has. I also agree that liberals do twist scripture to support gay rights - but God's word is being blatantly miss used in regards to homosexuality. 9 little verses mixed in with lists of other sins has lead to the outright outcasting of a group of people from the church. I believe the Bible says that homosexuality is wrong - I don't believe it places it in a special category. I don't believe anyone (who gives the issue a fair reading) could say that homosexuality is a "special" sin.

We will be having a movie night at my house (80 Schaefer Ct) This Thursday, May 8th at 8pm. on the topic. Feel free to come on over.

Some days tought decisions need to be made. It's so easy to see the speck in my brothers' eye. It's so tough to realize that I'm having more than contact problems. I probably have a plank in my eye. Probably.

Sometimes we get so good at preaching a particular sermon. It's a sermon that flows naturally from our own particular gifts and graces - condemning those who fail to live up to our standards.

Some days I'm the self righteous one.

It hurts to admit that one.

___________________________________________________

I had one of the best weekends I've had in a long time. Hanging out with a great friend, 18 dinner guests, and Godspell/Exorcist in one weekend pretty much ruled!

Vassya (my cat) hurt his paw. I know the feeling. Poor thing.

"Love is a harsh and dreadful thing to ask of us, but it is the only answer." - Dorothy Day.

I'm so damn tired of conservatives refering to my entire theology as "that love stuff" in that damn condescending tone they are want to use.

Love God, love people. It fits on a T-shirt, it consumes every life of devotion. It's quite possibly incomplete ... but honestly, friends, even the most complete theology has few informed believers and droves of un-educated, ignorant faithful.

In Russian Orthodox theology they describe God in apophatic terms. They describe what God is not. (God is not evil, etc.) It helps people to understand what God is without limiting Him. We evangelicals have our own apophatic theology. We do not have sex before marriage, we do not smoke cigarets, we do not drink alcohol, etc. The problem with apophatic teaching is that the specific attributes are lost. Russian people know what God is not, but often fail to understand who He is. Evangelical youth know not to fuck each other's brains out, but they fail to understand what it means to live out the teachings of Christ.

There are lots of ugly people who aren't having sex - it doesn't make them Christians. It just makes them ugly. There are a lot of uptight people who don't smoke, drink, or cuss because it isn't their lifestyle. We tell our children to be "good" but we forget that "only God is good."

If you're an alcoholic, the first step to beating it is to admit that you're an alcoholic. If you're a sinner - you had better be the first to announce it, loudly, in public. People get angry at me for "corrupting" people. I haven't corrupted anyone. I've made friends acknowledge that they were white washed tombs.

Most days I want to be so fucking selfish. I want the world to revolve around me. Some days I find God's love lived out in my life. Some days I love God and I love people.

I would rather my friends live sinful lifestyles -admitting to living in sin - than to have one friend living a "good Christian life" as a whitewashed tomb. I'm so damn tired of people being "good."

I'm glad you don't smoke, drink, cuss, or fornicate ... but I would much rather see you caring about the poor and living a generous life.

I hope that my friends will take the next step after admitting their sin, and turn from it - but I won't ask what I don't always model myself.

From Bishop Bickerton's Blog about General Conference:

Yesterday I had an amazing opportunity to address the General Conference concerning the “Nothing but Nets” campaign. It was World Malaria Day. As a part of that address I walked into the aisle and invited the delegates to consider what it might look like if they bought bed nets during that session. In a spontaneous movement of the body, delegate after delegate came to the center table and placed their offerings in support of the campaign. Those gifts are now up to $14, 750 among the 1,000 delegates and hundreds of visitors!

Yet, shortly after that presentation, I was approached by someone in the office whose first words to me were, “You know, you just broke the rules of the General Conference and threw the financial people into a mad frenzy to collect and count the money.” He was serious. My reply was simple, “The affirmation of this body speaks for itself. In just a few moments we just saved 1,450 children’s lives in Africa. I’ll disrupt this General Conference every day if I can get that kind of response.”

We are a church that is often more concerned with rules and regulations that make us feel comfortable with predictability. We are a church that emotionally desires the leading of the spirit, but practically cannot find a way to just “let it happen.” - Bishop Thomas J. Bickerton

I got a 97% on my math test. I'm just really happy ... now if I can just get started on my Religious Belief Systems project!

Michael is ... ridiculous.

I love my generation. I love us. We're so thrilled just to get our name out there; that everyone could see our face is a thrill too high to hop.e

I realize that some days I wear my liberalism on my sleeve a little too much. I need to tone it down a bit, maybe.

My sunday school class voted to give me $1,000 for my mission trip this summer. It was one of those, ... "Uhmm ... thanks"... moments where, in all actuality, there are no words to convey the intended meaning. It's so encouraging to know that a group believes in you and supports you. Here's to the other 4 or so coming in quickly!

I've been working toward an emo haircut, just waiting for my hair to grow out. I have been thinking that I look more and more ridiculous every day, but I saw pictures from last night ... and my hair doesn't look awful.

I'm triple booked tonight ... which I like. I have a funny sense of abandonment when my friends do outdoorsy things and don't invite me. I feel like the slowest zebra who would slow down the pack ... but really; it's hiking not outrunning a lion. Just keep that in mind, lovers.

I have a math test in the morning. I'm way behind in my photography class, but it's all paperwork that seems unecessary ... busywork will always be my downfall.

I'm happy ... even though some days I feel like just sleeping in ... I'm still happier than I've been in a long time.

Dr. Dan Doriani brought us a lesson on Acts 8, the story of Phillip and the Ethiopian Eunich. I don't know why, but this particular story in Acts has always jumped out at me. The story is one of redemption and reconciliation. Philip sees a man, obviously of great wealth and power, riding in a chariot - the equivalent of a private jet. He feels led to begin hoofing along beside the rich man and soon sees that he is reading the holy scriptures. Now, it just so happens that the man had traveled thousands of miles to go to the temple and had been rejected from all but the crowded, noisy outer courts. He was not allowed inside because he was a eunich. He was sexually disfigured and was not fit to enter the temple. It also just so happens, that he is reading the "suffering servant" passage of prophecy in Isaiah.

This man experienced money and power and found it wanting. He tried the route of showy, religious experiences and found that it wanted nothing to do with him. This man was seeking truth at any cost and had been rejected for a physical defect, sexual mutilation, that he probably had exercised no control over.

Money didn't give him joy.
Power didn't give him peace.
The institutional church didn't accept him.

Philip knew that this man needed Jesus.

I think this story speaks volumes into how the church should treat the LGB&T community. Churches all over America refuse to accept people into their fellowship based on their readings of obscure old testament references.

The scriptures were clear that the Eunich was not to enter the sanctuary, no matter how many hours he had traveled. Homosexuality is a sin. In both situations those in authority follow the law to the letter. And following the law would be good if it was all we have, but we have the completion of the law in Jesus Christ. Philip recognized that the law had its place, but that we are under a new law. That day the Eunich was told that in the Christian faith he would not only be allowed entrance to the sanctuary, but his body - broken and damaged may it be - would become the sanctuary that Christ Jesus will endwell.

We as a church need to extend the offering of Christ Jesus to the LGB&T community. When the institution says, "hold it, the law clearly states ..." we as Christians need to stand up and say, I know the law says that, but we live under a new law - "come and be the sanctuary to which you were refused entrance."

The eunich didn't re-gain his lost manhood. The eunich became whole because of a restoration of the heart. He was still a eunich, he would still be a eunich when he died; but Christ had entered his life and Christianity would spread throughout Northern Africa because of his witness. He was still a eunich, the old testament still forbid him entrance to the Jewish temple. But, Christ lived inside of him.

I think there is major application to the LGB&T community. I think that Christians need to openly admit that the sin that plagued them before salvation still sticks around after salvation. If we allow the gay community into our churches, giving them the same freedom offered to us - that our sins make Jesus sad, not mad; that he still loves us with his whole heart; and that he forgives graciously, repeatedly, and unfailingly - I believe that many of them would take their repentance to the next level and actively fight against their sin. ... I think if we tell them they need to drop their sins at the door before entrance they will never enter at all.

What would be the greater sin? That some would never be free of their sin or that none would even hear the good news of salvation for fear that they would fail as Christians?

It's 2 AM, I'm alone in the St. Louis Airport(literally - other than an occasional cleaning lady the airport is empty), I'm avoiding Bible Chapter Summaries (I am 50 tedius old testament chapters away from being done forever!, and I am going to review my weekend retreat from my scribbled notes of thoughts from the weekend.

This weekend was spent attending the Ethnic America Network's Ethnic Ministries Summit; a 3 day event designed to bring people who work in multi-ethnic ministries and slacker college students looking for some credit hours together for an enchanted time of learning. I, obviously, fall into the "slacker college student" category and not the ethnic minister grouping.

The first person who introduced himself to me was a Malaysasian man, TV Thomas, who happened to be a good friend of my mentor, Dr. Fred Smith. It was nice to find an immediate connection.

Our first speaker was Jerram Barrs. Jerram is a British Presbyterian, a self described - "frozen chosen." The focus of the conference is the ideal that every church should be multi-ethnic and that worship should reflect the rainbow of cultures present. We had a lot of black music.

I love the spirit of African American church music; but everything seemed so patronizing. We would listen to a great negro spiritual and then some cracker would mount the stage and say (with a pompous, pretentious, British accent) MMM, yes, that was spledid, now wasn't it?

Our speaker on Thurday was a powerful black man. His sermon addressed our selfish desire to believe that our worship is superior; that we have a grasp on God that "they" just don't get. He ended with a story of traveling to the African bush. As a city boy, his eyes revealed that he was more than a little frightened to get off the bus after several hours spent without passing a building. A bushman quickly rebuked him in the native tongue. A translator revealed that the man had said, "God is here!" Sometimes we think that our norms and values reflect God best, but we must see that God works when we move beyond our comfort zone.

I met some really fun kids from Lancaster Bible College. We had dinner together and hung out a good bit. I like them a lot, and honestly, they reminded me of Fallsies ... which I didnt' hate.

Our speaker tonight spoke about racial reconciliation. He spoke to the black audience while tolerating the white audience's presence. It was a magnificent sermon. He told them that welfare was destroying their society and that Payday Loans would take them under. He asked why black people are making more money than previous generations, but still experiencing the same quality of life. His message moved everyone beyond his or her comfort zone. It challenged the crackers to work to build up the black communities through education.

I have been re-reading "A Scandalous Freedom" by Steve Brown. It's in my top ten "must read" books right now. His premise is so radical, yet he is so conservative. The whole premise (summed up in one inadequate illustration) is

Dont' think about flying purple cows for the next five minutes.

...
....
.....

Did you think about flying purple cows? Probably.

But, now you are free to think about flying purple cows, or not. It doesn't matter.

...
....
.....

Well, you probably thought about them for a second or two and then the thought left your mind.

His premise is that we do the same thing with sin. We make such a big deal about the fact that we can't do it ... and we rob ourselves of the freedom Christ paid so dearly for.

We are free to sin ... and because of this, we are free to love and obediently follow God.

Brilliant.

I watched Sophie Scholl again. I am again reminded what true faith looks like lived out.

And some days, no, most days; I need to be reminder; I need to remember what it looks like to live out your faith. It doesn’t look like what I see every day. It doesn’t look like youth, at the prime of their lives, hidden away in ivory towers studying what dead white men thought about God; faith looks like Sophie Scholl walking to the guillotine. Faith looks a heartbroken mother and father saying goodbye to their faithful children for the last time. Faith cries out, “There is a Higher Justice.” Faith doesn’t argue over proper eschatology.

We don’t live out our faith by getting A’s in Bible Classes; we live out our faith by standing up for what is right in the face of all opposition. "And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?"

I like thunder and lightning. They're bold and unapologetic. I like that in people. I think that if they were people I would want to be their friend.

I don't like rain as much. But I think it's weird when there is thunder and lightnign without rain. Maybe I need more rain friends. I'll work on that.

I'm on full smile patrol this weekend. It's campus preview.

I have a hard time encouraging kids to come here, knowing how much of a struggle I've had here, but I know that God has it in the works for a whole bunch of kids to end up here. I feel better knowing that I'm encouraging the cool ones.

I feel less bitter about a lot of things. One of my best friends, Ricky, (the one with a heart candy in his mouth in my friends' photos below) had a good chat over a movie. I don't think he realizes that he said anything of importance, but he did.

I've only cussed once since Easter. I'm thinking about taking the leap and stop cussing. IDK. I'll limit it anyway.

I'm having (I think) a pancake night on Sunday, which I'm pretty excited about.

Catharsis #6

Every time I go to log into my Facebook account I have a problem. I place the cursor in the password box and begin to type. But, when the page is finished loading, it automatically places the cursor in the "username" box. I end up writing half of my password in one box and the other half in a different box. Everyone now know the last 6 digits of my password.

The upsetting thing is that this has happened to me every time I have logged on to Facebook for months. Twice a day, 30 days a month, 3 months, 180 times! 180 times I've made the same stupid mistake. If I just waited two seconds for the page to finish loading before I began typing I would be fine.

I guess I'm just bad at learning from my mistakes. Maybe if I pretend they aren't real they will go away.

Spring break is almost over. I've had a good week and am almost ready to go back to class.

My friend Marty Spire's husband died yesterday. He was 94 and had cancer. I'll have a funeral in Elberton this weekend.

I feel really blessed by all of my friends, and not just the beautiful ones. The ugly ones too. <3

Catharsis #5

I always feel that Christmas and Easter should have a Celebrity Death Match.

I mean, they can't both be the premier Christian holiday. Can they?

I think it's strange that Easter is synonomous with Spring. The First Easter was 50 days before the Harvest Festival ... so ... some time during the summer?

I like Christmas because I get a lot of presents. I like Easter because I get a lot of presence. It's a trade off.

Catharsis #4

"Jesus is watching you!" - one of the teachers I work with to a student.

Yes, Jesus is watching you. He is watching every move you make. Because He loves you with all of his heart.

Jesus isn't waiting, on the prowl, for each of us to screw up. He is watching us in love.

So here's the message I want my kids to know. Jesus is watching you in love. Jesus loves you. I pray that some day you will hear this message.

Catharsis #3

We share a difficult Gospel. We share a good news that runs against everything we believe. We must constantly fight against the human impulse of inertia. We must fight against the lazy attitude of an easy gospel.

We cheapen the good news when we impose rules and regulations on to simple faith.
We cheapen the good news when we put study and discipline above simple faith.
We cheapen the good news when we deny the simplicity of the faith.

The Christian faith has fallen to the Biblical Literalists. The problem with this line of thought is that anything can be proven with the Bible. When we fail to take the Bible as a whole and choose to categorize every line we end up with as many faiths as people and the notion that only one person (usually said with a finger pointed in) has it right.

When we take the Bible as a whole and in context we see that there is only one faith ... with a whole lot of un-important fringe issues. The fringe issues are not part of the faith.

The difficult gospel teaches grace. It teaches that whores will get into Heaven before the religious establishment. It's hard to accept the grace of God. It's hard to give the grace of God. It's hard to offer the grace of God to people who don't look like us. It's hard to offer the grace of God to people who haven't followed the rules we have put in place.

Catharsis #2

I am in love with Family Guy. Hopefully we will start our Toccoa Falls Appropriate Courtship within the next few days, be engaged by the end of Spring Break, and be married in June. As long as she's a submissive Toccoa Falls Type.

I'm going in to work with my Kindergarten class today. I'm pretty excited about this week. I'm going to do pottery one day and develop film one day. Spring Break is relaxing.

I realized I never added a picture of my cat. So ... here he is.

Catharsis #1

"We are an Easter people and Halleluia is our song."- John Paul II

If our song is anything other than Halleluia we are doing something wrong.

If our song is "those damn kids and their skateboards," we've missed the boat.


I was allowed to be part of an awesome ministry this weekend. I sinned this weekend (like every other weekend) and God still found it in His heart to forgive me, embrace me, and use me in ministry.

"You should live your life with such freedom and joy that most uptight Christians will doubt your salvation." - Steve Brown

I'm allowed to be happy. I'm allowed to spend time with friends and enjoy myself.

I praise God for my beautiful friendships.

The last enemy to be defeated will be death. - 1 Corinthians 15

I wish their was a set of rules and regulations for funerals. I wish the word funeral didn't contain the word fun. I wish people knew whether to use past tense or present tense in reference to the recently deceased. I wish that death was a malady of the old. I wish we all grieved in the same way.

I have read of people groups that hire mourners for funerals. I think this is a good practice. At least they set the tone. Maybe, at my funeral they will hire laughers - to set the tone; that people may know it's okay to laugh.

Death is temporary; true life is eternal.

"With one exception, I would hire every member of this class to be part of my mission organization if I was on the board. Unless your paper said something to the effect of,'... [quotes one section of my most recent paper word for word]...' I wouldn't consider you a heretic." - One of my professors.

Yep. I'm officially a heretic. I think they will still let me graduate though.

I'm struggling more and more with identifying what I believe. I know what I believe ... but I don't know if it's good enough for those around (and above) me. I don't know if I care.

It's a weird spot to be.

Adam and I watched one of my favorite movies, Saved!, the other day. He had a difficult time with it because he felt it mocked Christianity.

I have two stories to illustrate something that has been on my heart. We as Christians need to examine our lives. If we as Christians do something that the world cannot handle, we must examine the issue and decide if the world has a problem with our actions because they go against its worldview and the peoples minds are not enlightened by Christ or if we are simply being idiots.

There are things the Christian world believes that the secular world find literally unbelievable. There are things we do that it cannot swallow because it lacks the light of Christ as its very core. Corrie Ten Boom is immortalized because she valued life (the life of others) over her own self.

There are things the Christian world does that are so shocking and so countercultural that the secular world has no response. We canonize Mother Teresa because we cannot fathom the faith that would lead so far away.

There are things the Christian world believes that the secular world finds crazy … because they are crazy. It’s inane to believe that Jesus would be so radically pro-life as to murder an abortion doctor or so worse yet, be so focused on saving fetuses and simultaneously so enamored with making sure every murderer is executed ... just … like … he … was?

There are things the Christian world does that are so shocking that the world stands back in disbelief because our actions are so horrendous. We live in McMansions while most of the world can’t find enough water to survive.

We must examine our actions and see if they shock the secular world because they exemplify Christ or if they do so because the hypocrisy is only hidden from our own eyes.

A friend apologized to me today, he recently decided that he could no longer identify himself as a Christian, but when asked to pray in class he did. He was concerned that I would feel his prayer was irreverent because he didn’t mean it.

Some of my most succinct prayers have been four letters long. Some people have their best prayer moments while having one night stands. I truly believe the most irreverent prayer is one offered by a Christian without any passion behind it. I’ve prayed a few of them. I’ve also prayed some passionate prayers that would make sailors blush. I don’t consider any of those prayer irreverent.

willimon.blogspot.com

Guest-Blogging: Michael Stewart

As part of our Conference-wide celebration of United Methodist believing, I've asked some of our pastors to contribute their thoughts on the joy of the Wesleyan way of Christianity. This week we begin with thoughts on United Methodist "specialness" by Dr. Michael Stewart. Michael is known as one of our outstanding preachers. He formerly directed our Connectional Ministries and is currently pastor of our Hazel Green United Methodist Church.

NOT ALL THAT SPECIAL

Perhaps what makes us Methodists special is that we do not believe we are all that special.

The Roman Catholic Church is older and bigger. Episcopalians and Eastern Orthodox do liturgy with more flair. Presbyterians are more focused on doctrine and scholarship. Quakers are the folks we go to for instruction in prayer. Disciples of Christ are more ecumenically minded. Pentecostals are more exuberant. Baptists are more democratic. The Salvation Army is better with the poor. The Amish are greener. Lutherans are better at pipe organs. The Assemblies of God are more adept at raising up large congregations. Mormons are uniquely American; holding that Jesus’ return will take place in Missouri.

We Methodists do not claim to have invented Christianity. With St. Paul, we simply pass along to others what we first received (I Cor.15: 3).

John Wesley said the Methodist way is nothing new. It is simply the old religion of the Bible: “the love of God and all mankind” and “loving God with all our heart, and soul and strength”.

While every third barbeque joint in the South claims to have “The World’s Best BBQ”, and every touchdown ignites the fans to chant, “We’re number one”; we Methodists are just happy to be here. We have neither an inferiority complex nor an exaggerated view of ourselves as the one true tribe of Christians. We are not offended by Jesus’ saying that he has other sheep not of our fold (John 10:16).

We do not believe for a minute God has to go through us to accomplish every godly thing done in the world. There is not a sectarian bone in our bodies. We are not offended that God’s love can be active in Syrian, Lebanese, or Samaritan pagans (Luke 4:25-27; 10:33). We believe that God can work through the Scouts, public schools, secular universities, politics, the United Way, the Red Cross, country music, and our enemies. Methodists do not retreat to a religious subculture; but take seriously the incarnation and immanence of God in the world, calling it prevenient grace.

At our best we are not anxious or fearful, but trust God. We believe as a denomination that we will be fine as long as we keep aiming to love God more, and extend concrete acts of mercy to more neighbors. John Wesley even gave us our own Serenity Prayer:

Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,
exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.

Eugene Peterson, translator of The Message and author of The Jesus Way notes that America is a nation of consumers. Consequently, the quickest way to get Americans into congregations is to identify what people want, and offer it to them. He writes that the winning strategy is to “satisfy their fancies, promise them the moon, recast the gospel in consumer terms: entertainment, satisfaction, excitement, adventure, problem-solving, whatever.” The only problem is that this is not the way of Jesus.” (The Jesus Way, pg.6.)

Is it a coincidence that Methodists stopped growing numerically in the 1960’s when our national church leaders went against the grain of America and challenged racism and war? Telling people what they do not want to hear is probably not a great strategy for church growth in a consumer culture.

The good news is that our decline may finally put us in a place God can do something with us. As long as we imagined we must have been serving God because we were so special (“More Methodists serving in Congress than any other denomination!”) or because our success could be measured in our membership numbers or the height of our steeples, God could not do much with us. But perhaps in our weakness, and in the need to depend on God’s grace rather than our own performance, God can work with us. As it becomes less about us, it can become more about Jesus.

Consider the African-American Church in the mid 1960’s. It was not wealthy. Most of it buildings were modest. Its membership contained few corporate CEO’s, bank presidents, mayors, governors, or captains of industry. Nonetheless, in spite of statistical weakness, the Black church was the most faithful part of Christ’s church in America in that day. The little cinderblock and wood-frame Black churches rose higher than the big steepled churches, and made an astonishing kingdom witness. God can do mighty things through what the world counts as weakness. After all, God did his best work with some slaves in Egypt led by a tongue-tied shepherd, and with some fishermen in Galilee led by a tortured and executed criminal.

Perhaps the best way to serve a crucified and risen leader in an America addicted to Super-sizing and Superpower-ing is not to bemoan or resist diminishment, or frantically embrace every technique that works in selling products, making money, managing people, winning wars, or manipulating emotions. (Peterson, p. 8.). Rather, in following the way of the cross - being generous and forgiving even in our weakness - we might hear the dying cross-bearer say, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." And therefore, “we can boast all the more gladly about our weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on us.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Our neighbors across town and across the world are dying for a genuine, authentic, honest, humble, non-gimmicky, servant church that is in the process of giving itself away, just like its Lord. The world is dying for a church that knows it is not all that special, but that its Lord is the real deal.

And, who knows? God may then have in us something that is indeed special, and worth resurrecting.

Michael Stewart
michael.stewart@hazelgreen.org
January, 2008

We forget that salvation is an act that moves far beyond our finite understanding. The truly salvivic nature of the creator God is seen in both the giving of His son and in the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. In our attempts to categorize this truly mystical experience we effectively reduce the mystery of God’s saving power to fit our feeble minds. We give hurting people the “sinners’ prayer” which I have derided often and openly. We set a date, a time, a moment – we reduce the workings of God in the fullness of our lives to the very second we finished the “amen” of the blessed words.

Sara went to a conservative Southern Baptist church today. She had lunch with the pastor, the father of a friend. When the news of her friend David’s new-found homosexuality came up the pastor told her that he just needs to get saved. Sara explained to the pastor that her friend is already saved and that he loves the Lord. This, obviously, flies in the face of the sacred truths held so firmly by that pastor.

The reductionist view of salvation ponders whether one can lose his or her salvation. It attempts to draw a line between “us” and “them”. It fears Hell and longs for the comfort of Heaven. It puts the good deeds on one side and the misdeeds on another and prays that good has won out. It believes that a sexually active pervert can’t be saved – if he can stay in his sin and still be saved why the hell are we still trying so hard to ward off sin.

If salvation is a moment in time, it is worthless. If salvation is a lifestyle, a holy mystery, a longing and desire it is worth eternity. When salvation becomes the completion of a prayer, a box checked on a card, or the formulaic finishing of a well rehearsed, ritualized system we have reduced God to something we can handle. God is not something we can handle.

Salvation isn’t about the afterlife. Salvation is about life; full and eternal. As a Christian I believe that the fullest way to experience God is through His son, Jesus the Christ. I have walked in a personal relationship with Christ for more than a decade. Most days I live with doubt and fear; all days I live with Christ. I prayed the sinners’ prayer, yes, but I can’t claim that as “the moment of my salvation.” I can’t claim any specific moment. There have been moments(, days, weeks, months) in which I have chosen my selfish, stupid desires over God. These are my moments of salvation.

I came to a realization this week. When we as Christians fall, we fall into the lap of God. I’ve always visualized my failures as a dramatic fall from the palm of God toward the nothingness of Hell. I’ve imagined wrong. When I have fallen, when my sin became so big that I wanted it more than God – I have fallen into His lap. This is part of the mystery; one that I can no longer deny.

Salvation is a journey and a mystery. Come, walk and question with me.

Do you ever have the sensation where you begin to think about something, but you realize that if your mind continues down that road for too long it will completely change your life ... so you stop thinking about it?

Yeah, I've been doing that a lot lately. It's always a weird feeling.

I'm in a bit of a slump right now - I don't want to do anything. I just don't have any will to accomplish anything. I'll probably schedule a time with the counselor before it's all said and done.

I think that my biggest problem is the wide disconnect between my dreams and the reality. I want to accomplish so much, but I feel like I accomplish so little most days.

I feel that this school is the most suffocating place in the world for my dreams.

I'm sorry ...
... that I don't live out what I believe.
... that I don't love like I should,
... that I hit you, even though I was only joking,
... that my reflection looks a lot like me and nothing like Christ.
... that you have to see me like this,
... that I call you to complain about shit.
... that you cheated on your wife,
... that I caught you,
... that I can't forgive you,
... that I, too am unforgiveable.
... that we became more than friends.
... that I'm not the role model I want to be,
... that my doubts outweigh my faith, daily,
... that I don't call you on your sin.
... that you love skateboarding more than Jesus,
... that I make fun of you for being pale,
... that I have never told you about Jesus.

I'm sorry, that I can't tell you this to your faces.

I can't help but agree

Sometimes we need to hear the things that hurt.

I feel sometimes that cat people have a better understanding of grace. We love our cats because they're there. There is some element of companionship, but really, cats don't do anything.

Cats will never save Timmy from the well, alert you to the barn fire, or accomplish any other ridiculous task to earn your love. Cats simply couldn't care less if you like them or not.

I love my cat because I want to express my love. Even when my cat refuses my love I will still love him. He doesn't give me kisses or fetch me the paper. He will never make an attempt at earning my love. He knows I love him. He understands that he doesn't have to earn it.

I have gone through and re-read some of my blogs. I'm pretty egotistical. I know that this is a page of my innermost thoughts, but I'm really selfish.

I'm worse at offering grace than I am at polka-dancing.

I rarely, if ever, remember to praise God in the storms.

I held a birthday dinner in my own honor. It was important to me to gather my friends together and celebrate my birth. My parents, of course, had to foot the bill. I invited six of my closest friends to the nicest steak restaurant in the area. I had made it quite clear that I would be paying (with my parent's credit card.) My friends, however, had missed that little detail. I declared that I would be eating the ribeye and asked my friends what they would be getting. Rachel wanted a salad, Ricky was going to get french fries, and Adam was going to order a water. I was so upset at them - I had told them to get whatever they wanted and explained that I would be paying for it. Maybe they hadn't believed me or maybe they didn't want to be a financial bother; but either way I had to explain that the dinner was my parent's gift to me. I had to elaborate on the point that I would be offended if they ordered anything less than steak.

Sometimes we fail to remember that Christ has paid the eternal price and that we have nothing to offer on our own. Too many Christians, failing to understand that God offers the steak of a lifetime, end up eating the french fries and water of their own efforts. I wonder if God is as offended as I was.

(We all enjoyed our steak!)

I had to sit through a two hour lecture on why mainline denominations such as the United Methodist Church were failing to uphold the gospel. I was so offended, not because the professor had dissed my denomenation, but because of his ignorance. The United Methodist Church daily holds up the gospel around the world. In my church in Toccoa, there is a woman who every week fills the communion bowl with water so that it is ready in case someone comes forward to be baptized. We are a church that upholds the gospel message and is ready and prepared at all times.

Danny and I were talking, the other day, about getting in trouble at church. Danny grew up in the church, but he grew rebellious during his youth. Funny story. Danny had to apologize to the elders for chewing snuff during the living nativity scene.

Me: Well, were you someone important like Joseph?
Danny: No, I was a shepherd. I was just playing the part.
Me: A shepherd would have definitely chewed tobacco.
Danny: I know. We beat up the kid who told on us.
Me: Was he a skinny little punk?
Danny: Yeah. We cornered him.

I couldn’t agree more. A shepherd would have chewed and probably would have beat up any skinny, tattling punk.

Some days I want to rant.

Some days I want to cry.

Some days I want to flee.

Some days I want to rejoice.

Some days I do all of the above.

I want to say that Jesus spent a lot of time in bars. I want to say it, because I believe that the functional equivalent of that statement is true. Jesus Christ, friend of sinners. The Pharisees thought that Jesus was a drunkard because of the crowd he hung with.

I've wasted 20 precious years building a good reputation. I have one of the best. My good reputation proceeds me. I can't enter a bar without it being a big deal. Everyone was shocked that I went to play pool at the Buckhorn.

God, please allow me to play pool in bars with people who have never heard of you.

There's a part of me that wants to let go and let God. There's a part of me that wants to find myself at the end of a dark, scary alley; cold, yet at peace, knowing that God has guided me there and will see me through. There's a part of me that wants to grip onto every selfish thought I've ever had. It's easiest if I hold on to my comfortable life. Plush comfort, good reputation, nice church family.

God, please allow me to find myself in situations I never asked for, never expected, and could never dig out of on my own.

When I was in High School, until 10th grade, I only hung out with the Christian kids. We formed a clique and never strayed. At some point I left and began friendships with sinners (or at least those who openly acknowledged their sin.) My Christian friends were heart - and some feared I was no longer a Christian.

God, please remind me to look outside of the church for friendship.

I've gotten back in the Christian crowd - and I'm unhappy. My family isn't happy that I could ruin my reputation ... but I'm so damn tired of the choir boy routine. Most days I don't give a damn about the poor: some days I care less.

God, please forgive me for my transgressions. I have not loved with my whole heart - or even the biggest part.

This break reminded me of the need to "go into all the world." That starts right here. In dark alleys, in filthy houses, in smoke filled bars. The invitations I'm handing out are addressed to people the world would scorn. Christ has come for this!

God, forgive me for craving comfort more than I have ever craved you.

Amen.

Seeing my family again reminds me why I want to lose weight. Rebecca has promised me that if I ever get as big as aunt sharol she will kill me. It's a nice gesture, really.

Family ... what a beautiful thing.

Christmas in the Empire. - Bishop William H. Willimon.

It's strange to hear a prophetic voice in this day and age.

I recently had a doctor's appointment in the same building as an obesity clinic. The obesity section had a large bulletin board with "before and after" pictures of people who had recieved major surgery to lose weight. My mom pointed out the most interesting thing about the pictures; those who were happy in the "before" picture were happy in the "after" picture. Those who were unhappy in the "before" picture were unhappy in the "after" picture. Losing half of their body weight did nothing to improve their level of joy.

I see a lot of Christians every day who struggle with a multitude of sins. I hear Christians say "if only" they could get over that one particular sin habit. Masturbation, pornography, homosexuality, lust, gluttony, cursing, smoking, etc. The list goes on. (I don't think all of those things mentioned in the list are sin - yet that is the list) That "if only" they could overcome that one addictive sin behavior that they could ... could what? I never quite hear the rest of the sentence. Be happy, I suppose, or be righteous, or get right with Christ.

I weigh in at a portly 285. I'm not garguntuam, but I am a bigger person. I realized a number of years ago that if I couldn't be happy with who I was as a fat person, that I could never be happy with who I was at any size. It was a revelation, really. I stopped hating myself. I still don't want to see any photos of my body at pool parties, but I can be happy with who I am.

I think the same principle applies in both situations. Not that we should be happy with our sinful old selfs, but that we should be able to rejoice in what Christ has already done in us. If we can't celebrate the fact that Christ died for the forgiveness of our sins while we are yet sinners, how can we pretend that we would celebrate that fact if we were without sin?

I think the old "love the sinner hate the sin" slogan applies first and foremost to ourselves. Christ has counted each and every one of us as worthy of salvation - now why should we hate ourselves for our sin? A friend who struggles with homosexuality recently said that if people found out his secret he would kill himself. This simply breaks my heart. 1.) That we as the church have created a culture that elevates one sin above all others that a person can't even openly struggle against sin without being persecuted. 2.) That a person could hate the sinner (even unto death) even when the sinner is looking him back in the mirror, and 3.)That the church has so blatantly missed the mark and has no plan to revise its current stance, even knowing that it has caused much harm.

This Christmas, take a break from loving family and friends and be selfish. Love yourself. Love the sinner that you look at every day in the mirror. Show grace, mercy, and forgiveness to yourself. Celebrate that Christ died for you knowing that you would continually mess up - even after salvation. Celebrate the new life that Christ has given to you- knowing that you aren't perfect - and celebrate the victorious limp knowing that Christ's love is sufficient even in the face of your "secret little sin."

Christ has come for this

Those were the lyrics the high school boy might have heard as he passed the group of adults singing christmas carols. "Christ has come for this."

He might have heard them. The singers were engaged in a power play of musical tempo, making the understanding of lyrics difficult. If he did hear them, he might have understood them. He might have understood them. We were all scowling because of the cold, and if our message was one of joy I think we missed our mark.

Truly, Christ has come for this. For this boy - for his heart to be turned toward God. Not for petty squabbles to be carried out in His name, not for families to fake and feign holiday joy, not for songs to be sung to graying streets filled with slush; but for people.

That God would come to earth as a baby speaks volumes about His heart. That we can't even get through a four verse carol without needing things done our way says a lot about our hearts.

But, alas, Christ has come for this. For us - for our hearts to be turned toward His.

"Faith is not a story of belief in the midst of predictability. You must believe when everyone and everything tells you not to. Faith is the ability to clean the lenses and find hope and joy among the cracks. Faith is found in the midst of life, not in spite of it. This is a story of Christmas. Each Christmas, inspired by Mary and Joseph, find reason to believe even when idyllic dreams of life change."

Bishop Tom Bickerton

I'm in Pennsylvania, being paraded around as the trophy child No.2. It's disgusting. I get to go home soon, so hopefully I can take advantage of this time home to get together with old friends.

Here's to seeing what happens.

The Nativity Story

Most often we fail to fully embrace the eccentricity of the birth narrative as described in the gospels. We sterilize the story and trap it in a box of religious zeal. It becomes holy and sanctified until we are no longer suprised by it. It was a “then” thing. But, could you imagine the story happening today; the unlikely cast of characters:

Elizabeth: The old biddy of a pastor’s wife who gains a few pounds and suddenly thinks she’s pregnant with a special child. She might be right, but with a suddenly-mute husband and a new-found Buddha belly things aren’t looking to bright, not to mention her youngest cousin …

Mary: The 13 year old “virgin” who somehow managed to get knocked up. Oh sure, she’ll be memorialized with a stoic face, full of grace; but tonight she looks scared as hell. We want to judge her, but we recall our own past and remember that no one is truly pure; remembering our own sexual transgressions we wish to keep hidden – and we say a little prayer of thanks that we never ended up with child-support payments or a young one of our own. The ladies at Bible Study, who all agree that she hasn’t been coming faithfully enough talk behind her back, “Poor dear, God bless her sinful little heart.” Not to mention her poor fiancé ….

Joseph: The man with one marriage behind him about to marry his new bride; she’s pregnant and he knows he isn’t the father. The fool will probably marry her anyway. He believes her angel stories. Men will believe anything, it seems. Or maybe he just doesn’t have too many prospects left. So they travel out of town because of an edict, darn governmental red tape, and try to find even one last room happening upon …

The innkeeper: The foreign-born hotel owner who is finally getting ahead during the mid-season rush, with a full hotel, and a strange couple looking for the last room in town. He knows that every two-bit motel is full tonight, and he’s compelled to help. He can’t just send a pregnant woman out into the cold, can he? Maybe they could just sleep in the lobby or the old tool shed out back? If only he had known just what he was in for and who all would show up …

The lowliest shepherds: The mill-workers pulling extra hours at the mill to make a few bucks to spend for the season. Living a gritty, grimy existence, covered from head to toe with grease, they claim to have seen an angel pointing the way to a better existence. They claim to be honest men, but you know how people in their profession act, I’m sure they saw an angel – they probably saw some little green men, but there were others …

The wise men: Men with expendable income, excess time, and no wives to keep them at home? In a modern retelling they would have to be the gay. Three queens, riding in from the city without a clue about the small town culture. Bringing lavish, pointless gifts: Gucci bags, Prada shoes, and enough hair care products to last a baby with no hair at least 3 years. There is just one other player …

The Baby King: Perhaps the most sterilized, trivialized, stock-character of them all in our classic tale, but perhaps the one who was originally the most scandalous. Th’incarnate one; Christ the Lord. It’s bad enough that God leaves his post in Heaven, but that he takes the form of a baby? God, being passed around by greasy mechanics and rich queens, simply coos and smiles.

It doesn’t fit on a Christmas card. It doesn’t have a pretty bow. There are loose ends; we’re left unsatisfied. Mary can’t prove she’s a virgin; Jesus can’t prove he’s the King. We have unreliable witnesses or witnesses with tarnished testimonies – you take your pick. There’s nothing certifiable about the whole story, you aren’t sure if you want to tell your kids (especially your 13 years old daughter) all the details.

So Mary become the heroine of courageous faith, Joseph the honest man of valor, the shepherds show up clean with white sheep, and the wise men seem to have a point and purpose. It makes a beautiful Christmas card – we come to accept it as easy fact … but we fail to realize the scandal behind the story. We see these people as plastic figurines and it sets our minds at ease.

I'm feeling like a bit of a failure at the moment. It's an odd feeling that I get every know and then. It's a feeling of depression, but I can't figure out any reason for the depression; at least not a reason that makes sense.

The drama team I lead was going to do a skit for 11 church. The girl who I want to give the lead too doesn't want to do it. My top priority is to give the kids the courage and confidence that they need to thrive in life. I feel like I haven't accomplished that. It's a sad feeling.

I cussed twice in youth group on Sunday. I was in the senior high youth group discussion and I was so angry that I cussed ... twice. Not just once, but twice. I don't think that cussing is a sin ... but I don't want to encourage younger beliefs to sin ... but I do want them to be honest. If they think that the core tenets of the Christian faith are bullshit ... i want them to be free to voice that. I don't want them to feel that they have to be someone they aren't because their in church. I know they cuss at school; why shouldn't they be the same person at church?

I have a friend, of whom I love dearly, who makes me feel like I am a burden on his busy life. He's never said anything, but I always feel like he's just shy of telling the truth ... it's so odd.

How can you be simultaneously happy and sad?

Из всех искусств важнейшим для нас является кино. - Влади́мир Ильи́ч Ульянов
Translation: Cinema is the most important of all the arts for us. - V. I. Lenin

I spent 9 1/2 hours in a film session yesterday. It was glorious. I was feeling a little communist today, and a good bit in love with film.