Fearless - 2nd sermon in a series of 4 on the book of Revelation

This is my 666th post on blogspot. I genuinely considered posting a blank post in order to avoid having one of my posts be number 666 ... but, oddly enough, that mentality gets to the heart of this entire sermon series. The book of Revelation has been misused and misinterpreted to scare people into line - but Revelation is part of the canon and it is a continuation of the great love letter from God to God's people. We are unafraid.

Revelation 7:9-14

"After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, "Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!" And all the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, saying, "Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen." Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, "Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?" I said to him, "Sir, you know." And he said to me, "These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb."



I didn't start reading the Bible until I was a teenager. I read the gospels and some of the shorter books first. I was really enjoying reading through the Bible. Then I figured I should read the final book. I made it past the first few pages before I stopped.

It was like going to the movie theater to watch Titanic and part way through Saw II starts showing instead. In Swahili. What was that? Really? What is that even supposed to mean?

I finished reading the book of Revelation eventually. I didn't enjoy it and I didn't learn from it. It was bizarre and frightening somehow.

It wasn't until I was in my twenties that I had a really wonderful pastor explain Revelation to me in a way I could understand. She stated very clearly, "Revelation was written as a book of hope for a persecuted church."

One of my favorite movies involves a court scene. The two defendents have been accused of murder and their non-traditional attorney is trying to prove that they are innocent. The evidence against them is overwhelming. There are several eyewitnesses who saw them fleeing the scene of the crime.

Their attorney discredits each of the witnesses one by one. He proves that one witness needs glasses by moving to the back of the courtroom and asking her how many fingers he is holding up. He discredits another witness by showing the layers of obstacles between his house and the scene of the crime. He showed how dirty his windows were, and all the trees and bushes blocking his view.

When we read the book of Revelation, our view is blocked substantially. We have two thousand years of time seperating us from the cultural, political, and ethnographic climate of the time. Not only have we never been to the places mentioned in this book, we don't know the people or even how they really lived. We don't understand the politics in play. And perhaps most importantly we don't understand the level of persecution the church was experiencing at the time.


That same pastor explained that "When comfortable Christians get their hands on this book - they do incredibly frightening and strange things with it."

As 21st century Christians, we have seen this book be exploited to prove all sorts of falsehoods. We have seen corrupt leaders use fear to coerce people by highlighting terrifying passages. They have taken images out of context and have tried to scare people into believing in Jesus. They have tried to gain more power for themselves by manipulating the more confusing parts of this book.

I was at a gathering of young people - it was hosted by a church and the man preaching had pretty extreme views. He preached for thirty minutes from the book of Revelation and he highlighted all the parts about Hell and damnation. He mentioned politicians that he didn't like and compared them to the whore of Babylon, the anti-Christ, and other evil players from this book. He mentioned the names of politicians he did like and he compared them to the two witnesses and the victorious in this book. And he continued on with the text and ensured the terrified group of young people that the end of times was any day now - and choosing one narrow, new interpretation of the final events of the Bible he screamed at those young people that Muslims and Atheists were taking over Americ and that soon we would be asked if we believed in Jesus and if we answered, "Yes" that our new leaders would kill us for this answer. He closed out his sermon by asking the frightened group to stand up if they would be willing to die, right now, for believing in Jesus.

The faithful from his small church quickly jumped to their feet - they were used to being terrified during sermons and they knew the right response. The rest of the youth slowly got to their feet - they were partially terrified of giving the wrong answer, partially terrified that the nutjob at the front of the room was going to start actually killing people, and partially afraid that their friends who were watching would think they weren't good enough Christians. The preacher really pushed and he said, "I want you to sit down if you don't really mean it. If you're not 100% sure that you would be willing to die for Christ right now - then I want you to sit back down."

Of course no one was going to be the first to sit back down and prove that they aren't a strong enough Christian. I was one of the leaders - and although I knew at the time that my honest answer would have been "I don't know!"; I kept on standing because I felt that I needed my students to think I was a great Christian.

As I think back to that day, I wish I has sat back down. I wish I had shown the courage to be honest with my students and admit that at the time I really wasn't sure if I could be a martyr. But also I wish that someone would have been brave enough to stand up to the bully in the pulpit.

The bully in the pulpit was asking those students the wrong question. Probably, none of those students will ever be put in a position where they must choose to die for Jesus. No one will ever hold a gun to their head and ask them if they believe. But every day they will be faced with the question of whether they will live for Christ.

Most days, Christ isn't calling us to die for him - he's calling us to live for him.

Every day you will face a situation that calls out the question, "Will you live for Christ?" Will you retell that racist joke, join everyone else in laughing at the outcast kid, or will you choose to live for Christ? Will you take a job that goes against your conscience or will you choose to trust Christ?

When I planned out this sermon, I had grand ideas of sharing wonderful stories of people who have died for their faith. I wanted the stories of Father Omelian Kovch, Corrie ten Boom, the apostles, and others who faced the final question and chose Christ over life itself. But as I began to think about things more, I couldn't ask you to compare yourself to those people in those situations.

If the situation came up, I'm not certain that I would be willing to die for my faith. I would like to think that I would, but I can't be certain. Even as a missionary and a leader in the church; I'm not very good at living out my faith. I mess up so very much and ignore my faith and better judgement so often. I would hope that I would be willing to die for my faith - but to prove that to myself I must be willing to live for my faith.

When I was born, there were many complications and my mother almost died. For years she underwent a series of back surgeries. It was unbearably painful for her to stand or sit. Mom had a friend from church named Althea, and every week for those painful years Althea would show up and say, "I'm here to clean the bathrooms." Cleaning the bathrooms would have been an impossibility for my mother, but for Althea it was a joy to come and help my mother as she raised two small children in difficult circumstances. Will we live for Christ?

My friends Bob and Ruth are like my second parents. Bob is a pastor and in his forty years of ministry he has served many churches and ministries very well. His wife, Ruth, is a trained teacher and counselor. She has a very good education. When Bob ended up in our central office building to help administer the life of the church, Ruth decided that she wanted a job where she could connect with young people. Although her training and experience could have landed her any number of high-paying jobs in her field, she took a job as a waitress at a popular restaurant. To many of the young waiters and waitresses Ruth has become the mom or grandma that they never had. She counsels them and helps them understand life. She talks openly about her faith, and many of the young people who had never been connected to faith are interested to hear her story. She doesn't make much money, and the work is pretty terrible - but Ruth is happy to be light in a dark world. Will we live for Christ?

This great cloud of witnesses all dressed in white referenced in today's scripture passage can be compared to being present in a church just filled with icons. All around you will be familiar faces of the faith - the apostles, church fathers, and martyrs of the faith - but also faces so much more familiar to you. We will be surrounded by those who lived out their faith every day. We will be surrounded by friends and family who spoke out on behalf of the poor and the marginalized. We will know the faces on that day of those who took unpopular positions and demanded equality for all people. We will see the faces of heroes of our faith of whom we have never heard.

We will be surrounded by the haloed faces of "God's littlests" - all of those who served, prayed, and loved with all that they had and never received an ounce of thanks or appreciation on this side of heaven.

One day a national politician showed up at Puzata Hata. As he was going through the line, one of the women working gave him a piece of fish that he ordered. He looked at her and said, "That other piece in the pan is much bigger, can I have that one instead? The woman looked at him, set his plate down and began serving the next customer. The politician was indignant. "Do you know who I am? I am a very well known politician. I am very important and serve on several committees. Now do you want to give me that bigger piece of fish?" The woman looked at him and said, "Do you know who I am? I am the woman dishing out the fish."

This world tells us to stand up proudly for who we are - to list our accomplishments and rewards as often as we can. The Gospel teaches us to stand up for whose we are - to point to Christ and to deny ourselves at every opportunity. To be a loud and clear voice for the Kingdom of God, and to use words only when we really have to. God's littlest can't help but have holes in the knees of their jeans - from praying on their knees and stooping to scrub floors in humble service.

Nate Saint, a missionary and a martyr once said, "People who do not know the Lord ask why in the world we waste our lives in Christian service to the world. They forget that they too are expending their lives ... and when the bubble has burst, they will have nothing of eternal significance to show for the years they have wasted."

Dear friends, every action we take / every word we say / every accomplishment we achieve; they all point to the reality of our beliefs. Do we believe that God is real? Do we believe that God is love? Do we believe that God is working through us to redeem the world? Do we believe the Gospel message of Jesus Christ or do we believe the lies of this world? Do we believe that we must work 70 hours a week to have enough money to buy a bigger apartment to fill with stuff that we don't care about to show off to friends we don't really like? Do we believe that or do we believe that God has better for us?

God calls us to live fearlessly. This day I won't ask if you are willing to die for Christ - I will simply ask, Are you willing to live for Christ.

Amen.

Look at how Ukrainian my life is.




These are from a concert from the final day of the Christmas season. Really sad to see the month of festivities come to an end. Now it's time for some work!

Apolitical

I really should stay out of politics.

Really, I know I should. I get in all kinds of trouble when I get involved in political situations. I have nerve damage in my hands from the handcuffs if you can't think of any other good example.

The problem is: I'm good at politics. I enjoy a good debate and I have a real skill for it. I'm good at working out a compromise and making sure that everyone leaves the table happy. I've been known to throw out an impassioned speech from time to time. I think I would be a good politician.

I can answer a question without answering the question.

But I feel that when I get political, that I leave part of myself behind. I get swept up in the moment and I forget the things that really matter to me. I think this is true of most politicians.

While I'm really surprised to see that conservative Christians would gladly throw their support behind a candidate of a different religion; I think that religion doesn't matter. You can't be a good politician and a devout anything. In order to get to the places of prominence and importance in todays world - you have to be willing to betray that which you once cared about.

You have to be willing to crush your opponent with power and strength. That doesn't sound very Christian.

Christianity is essentially an exercise in powerlessness.

The marginalized on a grand march to the doors of the wealthy elite and powerful; we plead with them to understand that in the end we were winning all along. We, the meek, will inherit the earth.

It brings me great pain to see the posturing and positioning begin for General Conference. Every four years we allow the mantras of the corporate world, the slogans of the campaign trail, and the -isms of the world to enter our hearts and minds. Our doors are closed to the powerless as the powerful make decisions that we will fail to internalize and which in turn will fail to materialize the change that we all want to see.

In the corner of my heart that beats slowest; I'm still convinced that the people who are affecting real change in our denomination are people whose names we will never know. They are not politicians; they are servants.

They smile broadly and pray as they bake a casserole for someone getting out of the hospital. They break the crack of dawn to shovel snow in front of the church. They clean the church without pay and without thanks. They feed the kiddos on Tuesday afternoon. They walk 12 miles to Bible classes. They invited strangers into their apartments for a worship service. They sing Halleluiah and they mean it. They understand that the bills can be paid later, but the people need rice right now.

They are God's littlest. And they are blessed.

My new obsession

I first tried this product when I was vacationing in Warsaw with friends. We cooked borscht and fried up some vegetarian fried chicken substitute. When they pulled these hard little bricks of protein out of the bag I was absolutely disgusted. I couldn't imagine eating something so bizarre. It didn't help that we were all falling over each other to see the directions which essentially read - just add water. We coated them in egg and flour (very flexetarian of us) and fried them up. I honestly would have never guessed they were not chicken. They were light and tender, and flavorful. Just the right blend of spices and texture of meat.

Last week my flatmate told me that you could purchase the same product here. For around a dollar a bag you can buy this faux-meat product. It is used routinely in the states and goes by the acronym TVP. We never eat it in place of meat, but rather we use it as a meat extender. It extends the meat we use. Usually we use it in prisons and school systems (thank you Wikipedia for that delightful life affirmation) in order to cut costs. Just stir in some ground up flakes into real meat and they will absorb the flavor and mimic the texture of the meat being prepared. Think back to the last school taco you ate ... yep.



So, now that it's -20 outside, everyone is basically a shut in. We've already eaten everything edible - so we're down to just eating soy based protein. I'm very committed to figuring out how to make this stuff taste awesome. First you boil it.



Doesn't that look disgusting? But, honestly, I'm disgusted by raw meat, too. I guess this isn't any more disgusting.

Here it is after being pan seared and served with some mustard. It's not nearly as good as it was fried ... but it didn't taste bad. Today I made tacos with it and they were really enjoyable.



And since you made it the whole way through two disgusting pictures to get to the final product - I figured I should throw in another great picture. Here is Mefodyi begging for a bath.

A poem in the fashion of Wendell Berry

Your big-box stores will be empty someday; as empty as our main-street store- fronts and our bellies at the end of the month.  All you build will decay, it will be an eyesore some day.  You'll die in your SUV.  It protects you from the winos and beggars, but it doesn't protect you from yourself.  Your McMansion will crumble and sway in the wind and "those people" will move in next door; and  you'll find new places to build new monstrosities.  You'll convince yourself that life is better with a five hour commute.  

And you will declare all of this good. Good, like your grades and then your salary.  And then your wife and your kids and your minivan.  Good.  Good like the prisons full of the bad guys, and good like the children of the lazy going to bed hungry after eating their just desserts.  Let them eat cake...d on food particles that your dishwasher can't seem to get clean but your upgrade will fix.  Lock your doors; check them twice .... For they may steal for their children - from the naughty to the nice.  

We decry the Nazis and Soviets because they are past, but our own systems are better and certainly should last - and we ignore our trains running through the night as the bodies pile up. Out of mind, out of sight.  We all agree that we would have stood up for the just, while we steal from those with just enough; one  miserly tip at a time.  

But you will be happier then.  In the piles of rubble where once your house stood, you will find a home.  You will know the names of your children's friends.  You will read a book and go for a walk to escape the chaos and you will find yourself.  Laughter will be your best medicine and God your only refuge.  You will understand why all the poor people didn't need lithium to survive.  You will be free at last, free at last.  Free from yourself.  Free from the things you owned that owned you, too.  Free at last.  

Intentionally Offensive

I was preparing prayer stations for a worship service the other night. It was an impromptu worship service and everything came together very nicely.

As I was preparing one of the stations, I had the idea of using an untied shoe as a prop to help everyone visualize the point.

Now, Ukrainians have strict rules about shoes. In many Asian countries you are forever removing and replacing your shoes. Even in some stores and restaurants it is impolite to keep your shoes on. In Ukraine it's not such a big deal - we just always take our shoes off in people's apartments and homes. It's a wet and snowy climate and dirty even in the summer in the city. No one touches the ground, sits down on the ground, or places items on the ground. Shoe's are always left in the hallway.

I went back and forth about placing a dirty, untied shoe as part of a prayer station. Eventually I decided to do it.

In college we would have an annual service in which the President of the College would wash some of the students' feet. It was always titled something like "servant leadership chapel". It was a nice thought. Of course we did it because Jesus had done it - but Jesus did it because it was the lowest and most humiliating of all the task a servant could perform. If our president had cared deeply about modeling servant leadership he should have spent a weekend cleaning all of the toilets on campus or pulling hair out of the shower drains. Coming into the dorm bathroom and finding the president of the college plunging the toilet would have left far more of an impression than watching him take off his exspensive watch before dipping someone's feet in water and drying them off.

This is part f being a missionary. We don't do things because that is how they were done for us or because the Bible portrayed a scene - we try to do things to make a point that fits the culture we are working in. I feel like I often take that to mean that I am working hard not to offend anyone. But sometimes we have to be offensive.

Jesus was sometimes terribly offensive. He would draw in huge crowds to hear him speak and just as soon as the church growth gurus shine the spotlight on him as a shining example of how to really grow a church he opens his mouth and tells his predominately Jewish crowd to eat his flesh and drink his blood. These people who would never dare commit the sin of drinking blood are challenged to even drink human blood.

That's intentionally offensive. Jesus breaks the social norms and steps over boundaries all the time in the way he relates to women, people of different ethnic backgrounds, and those known to be guilty of sexual sins found repulsive by the culture.

Sometimes we play it too safe. We work hard to find the medium that will upset the fewest people. We vote democratically instead of prophetically.

The students who attended worship were shocked and disgusted by the untied shoe - but they got the point, discussed it openly after the service, and found a stronger connection to the idea of humility and grace.

The Gospel we believe in is challenging and difficult. It calls us to come and die, to give up everything we own, and to love those that society informs us we shouldn't love. Anything less is simply not the Gospel.

As Landa Cope once said, " If I offended you today ... Good! if I didn't... Come back tomorrow and I'll try again!"

Yesterday I got an email that said that my twitter account had been hacked. My only thoughts was, "I have a twitter account?"

I have not forgotten about blogging.

Really, I swear. I have not forgotten about blogging.

I have some really great ideas - but my mind just won't cooperate long enough to write a thorough post. I have been in Ukraine for almost three weeks and still my brain has not fully re cooperated. My first trip to Russia lasted for exactly three weeks and felt like the longest dream imaginable. We did every under the sun in the city of Konakovo. We toured museums and factories. We learned the Cyrillic alphabet and a handful of words (and I remember saying, "I speak Russian" and feeling only slightly more guilty than I do when I make the same statement today.)

These last three weeks have been short and sweet. I have reconnected with old friends, rested, painted, and otherwise tried to stay out of the way.

I'm trying to spend the month of January focusing on getting readjusted and working on my Ukrainian language skills. I'm trying not to get sucked into the work of ministry responsibility just yet. I'm trying to focus on myself for a bit and to realize how important it is for me and everyone else that I take the time I need to work on learning Ukrainian better.

I would also like to take some time to blog about things going through my mind - but right now I just don't feel like I have the time for that. But, I am almost certain that at some point soon I will have the necessary motivation, inspiration, and determination.

2011 Annual Third Person Christmas Letter

Michael Airgood wonders if this tradition has worn-out its welcome. But, in the absence of proof, Michael will go ahead anyway.

2011 was a big year for Michael. It was legendary, really.

Michael spent the winter finishing out his year of service as an Individual Volunteer in L'viv, Ukraine. His final months as a volunteer where very full and fulfilling. He worked to help establish a preaching point in Stree, Ukraine that will hopefully become a new congregation soon. The English club he helped teach produced students with greater speaking skills. He was sad to return home, but received good news from the Bishop who promised to ask the United Methodist mission board to hire a new missionary in Ukraine.

Sadly, Michael wasn't able to make it home in time for his close friend Jonathan's funeral. Jon died after a long struggle with cancer, and even a continent apart Michael and Jonathan grew even closer during Jon's final months. Jonathan Pound was an inspiration to all who knew him, and the causes he cared about most continue to blaze in the hearts of all who knew Jon.

Michael worked for his parents in Kane for a few short weeks, but quickly realized that living and working in Kane would not be a long-term solution. He completed licensing school in the North Georgia Annual conference in the spring and became licensed to be a local pastor in the United Methodist church.

In June it appeared that the Mission board would not be able to create a new position. At annual conference Michael agreed to serve a small United Methodist church in Western Pennsylvania. The following week he had his take-in at Robinson Evangelical UMC. By the time he met with the committee, GBGM had unexpectedly approved a new missionary position in Ukraine, and Michael was a strong applicant.

The church in Robinson didn't know how long Michael could be their pastor - and neither did Michael! But, the church was gracious and kind to their new, young pastor and things went exceedingly well. Michael stopped blogging during this time because the town was very small, and no personal story could be shared without offending someone in the town. Even with this limitation, Michael loved every minute he served that small congregation. He participated in the baptism a young woman and her toddler son - a highlight of a lifetime!

That was sadly Michael's final Sunday with the Robinson congregation. Three months into his appointment in Robinson; Michael Airgood was hired by the United Methodist General Board of Global Ministries as a standard support missionary working as a church planter and youth ministry developer in Ukraine. This is his dream job, and the answer to his lifelong calling. Michael is ecstatic about the opportunity. He immediately left to begin training before being commissioned.

Michael was arrested five days before the commissioning service. He was one of the 700 protesters arrested on the Brooklyn bridge protesting corporate greed, corporate influence in politics, and extreme wealth inequality. He spent six hours in a holding cell - and he could imagine his good friend Jonathan sitting in the cell with him. At Michael's court date he accepted an ACD - as long as he is not arrested in New York State in the next 6 months, the case will be dismissed and the record will be sealed. Michael is proud of his generation for taking a stand against the systemic issues that allow extreme poverty in America, but is thankful that the long-term repercussions will be mild!

Michael finished out the year preparing for his return to Ukraine by itinerating in over 30 churches across the US and raising support for GBGM. He leaves for his first three year term in Ukraine in a week!

He is grateful for a wonderful year full of adventure and surprise. He certainly didn't expect to get arrested, be hired for his dream job, or have the joy of sharing in the sacrament of baptism: at Christmastime we celebrate all the surprises God has in store for us.

Here's to 2012 being half as full of adventure, joy, and growth!

A Poem by Wendell Berry

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion – put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

“Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front” from The Country of Marriage, copyright © 1973 by Wendell Berry

On Communion

On my final Sunday at Robinson Evangelical United Methodist church I was permitted to consecrate the elements and serve communion to the congregation. It was an honor and a joy. It is so good to belong to a church with an open table. While I have had the joy of worshipping and working with a variety of Christian traditions, I always am thankful to end the day belonging to a tradition that readily shares the good news that God's grace is available to all through the symbolic act of allowing all to come and eat. While I am certain that every church has their doctrinal reasons and a proper theology for limiting who may recline at the table with Jesus; I rejoice in the United Methodist churches choice to welcome all.



On that Sunday, a visitor and her children sat near the back. As they came forward for communion, she was in tears. Her children had never experienced communion. They didn't know the ritual or tradition. They had never seen it before. We offered the bread to the small child and gladly proclaimed, "Jesus loves you!". I had been licensed and appointed for one Sunday only. As I left the tiny town with the hearty Methodist church, I had to turn in my certificate granting me permission to serve communion.



It hurt more than I thought it would. I knew that I would serve communion again soon, but I didn't know when or where,



With little feeling left in my thumbs from the pressure of the tightly secured handcuffs, I sat in a holding cell with more than a hundred others who had been arrested for protesting the extreme wealth inequality and level of corporate influence in government policies. We had occupied the Brooklyn Bridge to give voice to our movement and the millions of people who go to bed hungry every night in America. 700 of us had been arrested for our actions.



The boy sitting next to me was visibly terrified. He was slight and young. Like most of us, he had never been arrested before. As the hours passed, the police officers brought us food. The word "prison" is used as an adjective to describe food for a reason. The peanut butter sandwiches were meager at best. The milk was warm. The crust was so hard I wasn't even sure it was bread. I ate my sandwich in peace as I talked with Steven. He was from Florida and came up to New York city for the protests. He had thought that he could make a difference.



I asked him when he had eaten last, and he couldn't remember. Without thinking I opened the bag containing his sandwich and proceeded to pull the crusts off. I handed him the edible part of the sandwich and encouraged him to eat something. I pried open the milk carton and placed it in his hand. In my head I said a small prayer. I thanked God for opportunity to experience what so many Americans know as daily life. I thanked God for the meager provisions, and the way at they would be transformed through the act of thanksgiving and the great miracle of the living banquet. I took a deep breath and explained to Steven that I was a missionary; and that if he needed to talk about anything I was here. As he ate the bread and drank the milk one long tear fell from his face and we began a conversation about life and hope.



In the largest Methodist Church I have ever attended, I was one of many serving communion this Sunday. The pastor had taught me months before that when serving communion to a child, you always crouch down to their level. She makes certain that everyone serving is able and willing to look every child in the eye as they come up to receive communion. It's a simple thing, but one that I had never thought about before, but it makes all the difference. So many children passed through the line that my knees ached with exhaustion for lowering myself to their height.



I hope that communion doesn't lose its mystery and joy for me any time soon. We spent an entire class session during college trying to "figure out" communion. Trying to quantify in which way God works through the elements. In hindsight, this expenditure is laughable. Even if we could understand how God works through this holy mystery, I would ctainly hope that it would take more than a 45 minute class to figure it out!



As I reflect on communion, I am overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the miracle and the grace that it embodies. It is good to welcome all to this table, in every setting, all in God's grace.

Stand Up.

I've always felt so powerless concerning the issues of systemic poverty.

I felt that I wasn't doing anything to create the issue of poverty, but I also felt that I wasn't doing anything to fix the issue of poverty. I wanted to do something, but I didn't know what I could do.

On Brooklyn Bridge, with 700 other people who felt the same way, I had the chance to take a stand against an unjust system. While there are many who dismiss our actions, who laugh off the whole movement, or who twist the truth to highlight a few radicalized members; this has the potential to be a major turning point in our democracy. For the first time my generation is beginning to voice a social consciousness.

For many of us, it took leaving the safety of our parents socio-economic status to see and feel the need. Older adults are now 47 times wealthier than their younger counterparts. For decades they were ten times wealthier. Our generation might be the first to have a lower standard of living than that of our parents since the great depression.

Our decisions matter. The things we say and do have a tremendous effect on those around us. Here are a few simple ways that we can fight the systemic issues that lead to tremendous wealth inequality and speak out for those without a voice.

Live on less. Spend far less money than you do right now. When you get your paycheck put half of it in a savings account (through a credit union, local bank, or other option that feels comfortable to you and benefits your community) and don't touch it. You can live comfortably on half as much as you live on now. At the end of the month, after you have proven to yourself that you can live on less, use a large chunk of that money to pay off debt.

Debt is the enemy. Our national, personal, student, and credit card debt is what keeps us from living freely and doing the things that we want to do. Live on war-time rations and accept the hospitality of strangers until you are free from debt. Drive your vehicles to extinction to avoid new debt on a new car. You could live your entire life without ever making a single vehicle payment.

Shop wisely. Buy locally anything that you can. Encourage local small businesses even if it means spending a few extra dollars (after you are debt free, of course) on a few things. The less processed something is, the more likely it is to benefit the local economy with a fair wage job. Foodstuffs that are made overseas are loaded with enough chemicals to preserve them for shipping and shelf life. Our bodies survive better with fewer of these chemicals.

Tithe+. When we give generously of all that God has provided we make a radical statement. We prove that our allegiance is with the almighty Father and not the almighty dollar. When we give our churches are given the resources to grow and flourish and provide the social programs that address the needs of the people. I've read the rest of the book, and God wins - not the corporations or the empires that allow them to rob from the poor- God wins. When we give of all we have, we Act as though we know the ending of the story. It is a powerful message that our hyper-consumerist culture needs to hear. The Bible addresses the issues of systemic injustice some 2000 times. Try to read more than a page of the Bible without stumbling on something that addresses how God feels about the issue.

Speak out. People will think you are crazy or uninformed if you speak out against the wealth inequality. We are taught that our current system is infallible. Words that describe other economic realities are used as jeers and taunts. Speak out anyway. It is inexcusable for people to go to sleep hungry while others slumber with billions in the bank. We must demand that either they in invest that money to create fair wage jobs for our citizens or they expect that we will arrive with pitchforks to take it ourselves. We are not opposed to money, or even to wealth. We are opposed to those who have cheated, stolen, and tricked their way to the top and then refuse to allow others to climb the ladder fairly.

Pray much. Pray for God to intervene on behalf of the poor; and expect that God may ask you to do the same.

We are one community. Although we are divided along many lines, if one of us goes to bed hungry - we all suffer. When we diminish one child's hunger by claiming that his parents are lazy we diminish our claim to be children of God.

As I head back up to New York City to appear before a court, I have little fear in my heart. The worst punishment they could give me is nothing compared to the poverty that millions of Americans face every day. If some punishment is levied against me for marching and speaking out on their behalf, I will gladly accept it. I believe that the eternal punishment for all those who ignore the cry of the needy will be far greater.

"There is a higher justice.".

So, I'm heading back to Ukraine

I'm currently in Stonypoint, NY at missionary training.

If you haven't heard, I've been hired by the General Board of Global Ministries as a standard support missionary to L'viv, Ukraine. While no exact date has been set yet, I will be returning to Ukraine in early 2012.

I'm going to spend the next few months raising support. I get to say that I'm raising "support" instead of saying that I'm raising "money" because in the General Board of Global Ministries system all of the missionaries raise money for all of the current and future missionaries.

So, I don't have a set amount of money that I need to raise before I can fly overseas. I could raise $0 between now and my departure date and that wouldn't delay my departure or hurt my work in any way. We raise money so that others can go. While many of my friends serving in other denominations spend months or even years raising financial support before they gather enough to cover their expenses; because we raise funds for the community, I will be able to go after only a very brief time of raising money.

I get to spend the next few months traveling from conference to conference and from church to church teaching and preaching about mission. Mission is the thread that connects your local congregation to God's vision for the world. It's a topic that we don't address nearly enough in our churches, and a theme that I pray will bring renewed vitality to our congregations.

Along the way, I hope to find some covenant churches - churches that wish to have an ongoing mission relationship with me and with the work that will happen in Ukraine.

This is my biography and my advance number is 3021393.

If you're in a spot to do so, you can make a donation - or you can consider forming a personal covenant relationship with me. If you're not quite at that spot - you could help connect me to your church. I'm looking for churches, UMW & UMM units, Sunday Schools, Youth Groups, Bible Study groups, or any other group looking for a speaker. There are many United Methodist congregations who haven't had a missionary come and speak to their church in years if not decades. We are a global church, and this is an opportunity to celebrate that.

Learn about what the United Methodist Church is doing in Ukraine and what God has in store for the churches there in the future. Consider beginning the conversation in your church about supporting a missionary as a long term investment in the Kingdom. But more than that, help your congregation reconnect with God's mission and plan for the world and for their church.

Thank you, Michael Airgood

All who are weary

"But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,

'We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.' For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, 'He has a demon'; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, 'Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!' Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds."

At that time Jesus said, "I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." - Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

I carried a heavy back pack all through school. Even in Elementary school I filled my backpack with papers and pens and kitchen sinks. My high school, I traveled to school with a backpack that could have traveled across europe. Filled with 7 textbooks and everything else I might need for the day, it weighed more than most of my classmates.

A few decades ago, it was rare for a person under the age of forty to complain of a sore back. In the 80s, doctors began hearing more and more complaints of chronic back pain coming from children. It was a new phenomena. Young adults had perfectly healthy backs, but their children or younger brothers and sisters were complaining of chronic back pain.

An entire generation of children grew up wearing backpacks. At first they were cute and fun - with favorite cartoon characters and bright colors. But, by middle school, children are carrying several pounds pounds more than they should be.

In a novel move for the heavy burdened, the Florida legislature just passed a law last month which will remove textbooks from their schools. Only e-books will be purchased for students. Instead of a backpack weighing almost as much as the students - everyone will be assigned an e-reader weighing less than two pounds.


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It's a heavy burden to be a pastor. It's a heavy burden to write the first sermon that your congregation will hear!

Growing up, my home church had the perfect pastor. He led our congregation for 13 years. The church grew. New ministries started. He coached our High School basketball team and led us to state competitions. It was really an idyllic environment to grow up in. I thought that everyone went to church and churches were always full.

The pastor that followed him was an immediate flop. The grumblings began right away. The three pastors that followed him all received the same treatment. The grumblings got louder. He doesn't visit enough. This one doesn't have enough hair. This one doesn't tell enough jokes. This one tells too many jokes.

But, in the background there had always been grumblings - even under our perfect pastor. Miss Nellie May din't like the way he led communion. Great Aunt Josephine didn't much care for the drum set sitting in front of the pulpit. Bob Johnson was upset that the pastor didn't celebrate all the Holy days that our church had once celebrated.


Finally, more than a decade after my childhood pastor made his exit - and after three pastors had been exhausted by the grumblings - I overheard a conversation that stopped me in my tracks.

A woman was sitting near the back of the congregation and she was grumbling about something the pastor had done. An older woman in the congregation turned around and said, "It wouldn't matter if Jesus Christ were standing up there preaching, it wouldn't be good enough for you."

She might have been talking about today's scripture. We find Jesus encountering the grumblings - and He faces them head on.

The people are upset that Jesus is eating and drinking. The same people who had been offended that John the Baptist neither ate nor drank - now they are offended that Jesus is doing both. They feel that Jesus should spend more time with the society people and MUCH less time with drunkards, sinners, tax collectors, and prostitutes.

there are two cures for the grumbles.

The first is prayer. Jesus immediately goes to prayer for these people. Prayer is powerful. Please pray for me every day. Please always be in prayer for your pastor. Pray for this congregation; that we can accomplish the will of the Father.

The second cure for the grumbles is Jesus.

Jesus calls out to these people and says, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

As your new pastor, I would like to go ahead and apologize and ask for your forgiveness. This is a new role for me. I'll be doing things I've never done before. I will make mistakes. I will mess up. I can almost guarantee that I will give you reason to do some grumbling - and I pray that we can go to prayer together and that we can go to Jesus together.

Whew! It feels great to let go of the burden of trying to be the perfect pastor. It feels great to give up the burden of preaching the perfect first sermon! It feels great to let go of my yoke and take Jesus' yoke.

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The yoke is the device used to carry heavy things. We most often see it in pictures of third world countries carried by a woman gathering water for her children, or on the shoulders of farm animals.

In the Jewish faith, you would pick a Rabbi - or have one chosen for you - and you would take on their "yoke." You would learn everything they believed about everything and your job would be to accept all of it and to carry it.

Over the centuries, these yokes became more and more oppressive. On top of all the books in the Old Testament, the Rabbi's would have interpretations of every passage. They would have interpretations of the interpretations of other Rabbis. The list of rules became unbearable.

As a diciple, your job would be to pick up the yoke. [at this point I will pick up a board with a bucket on either end] Of course we believe the ten commandments, and the Old and New Testament. And we know not to wear a hat inside the church building. Unless your a woman, in which case maybe you should wear a hat. And of course we believe in Robert's Rule of Procedure. And soon enough, this yoke becomes uneven and just too much to bear. And we need to let it go.

This is where the world and the Jewish faith were when Jesus came on the scene. Jesus came and spoke words that were very different than those the other teachers spoke. He didn't bring more rules, or even different rules. He brought grace.

Jesus promise that his yoke is easy. Jesus is a transformative force in history. There's BC and AD - everything in the world hinges on the birth of that baby in Bethlehem and on his willingness to die on the cross so that we don't have to carry the burdens of this world any longer.

Jesus took the weight of our yoke on his own shoulders. He took the heavy bookbag off our backs and put a small Bible in our hands. Jesus took the cross, so that we wouldn't have to.

Rodney is an 18 year old with Crohnes disease. He missed 21 days of school in his final semester because of the debilitating effects of his disease. In his senior year he managed to bring his cumulative GPA up from near failing to a 3.5! His only poor subject was math. He chose a simple math class, but math has a way of building on itself and even missing one day could destroy your comprehension of an entire unit. Missing 21 days makes most of the problems just scribbles on a page.

He was right on the pass/fail line going into his final. He studied and got extra help. With trembling hands he got back his results. He had failed the course. If he had correctly answered just two more questions, he would have passed the class. His parents called the teacher to ask for a little leaway.

The teacher failed him. He didn't get to walk with his classmates. He'll get his diploma after he does remedial work.

No amount of pleading could get her to changer her mind. He had failed the class by two questions and that was that.

That's a heavy burden. Perhaps some of us are carrying heavy burdens this day.

Dear friends, Jesus our savior calls out to us - to take away our yokes and replace them with his own - the light and gentle yoke of a loving saviour. Our altar will be open during the closing hymn if you are ready to let go of your heavy burdens and find rest.

Dear ones, this world is full of people who are weary and carrying heavy burdens. As the church we don't have anything to add to their yoke. We have Jesus Christ and Him crucified to offer to this hurting world. We have a light and easy yoke to share with them.


Go forth this day and offer the light and easy yoke of Jesus Christ as Savior and living God.

Sermon for Saturday Night Alive service.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.

And you know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves.

Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.

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Biltmore estates is the largest privately owned residence. It has 250 rooms and is six stories tall. Much like our Olmstead Manor, there is a bowling alley inside the house. At Biltmore there are also multiple swimming pools, hundreds of acres of pristinely landscaped gardens, and more bathrooms than anyone could ever need. A tour of the house can take several hours, and very few people have ever been in every room. I doubt that any of the owners of the house have ever been in every room.

We hear the promise of a mansion in heaven -a Father’s house with many dwelling places- and our minds probably wander to the Rockefellers or the Roosevelts. I’ve found myself lost in many single-family dwellings while visiting friends. You know those McMansions largely characterized by a lack of character; with more bathrooms than people it seems they always manage to fill up with clutter faster than friends or good memories.

The image of a heavenly mansion awaiting our arrival conjures up notions of wealth and extravagance – but this was not the desired effect of Jesus when he spoke these words or of the writer of this Gospel.

Jesus promises: “I am going to prepare a place for you.”

This is wedding talk. These words held the same meaning for the Jewish people as an engagement ring or a young man getting down on one knee would for us. This would be like saying, “I’ve reserved the church and the banquet hall for a certain Saturday in July.” In Jewish culture, when a couple became engaged the man returned to his father’s house and began constructing an attached dwelling place for his new family to live.

We as the church are the bride of Christ. This is the image used throughout the Bible to describe our corporate relationship with God. As individuals we are friends, brothers, servants, sheep, and any number of analogies to describe our personal relationship with Jesus Christ. As a body - as the Church - it seems that we keep coming back to the same analogy.

The Church is the bride of Christ.

Jesus performs his first miracle at a wedding banquet. Throughout his three years of ministry he references again and again images of a wedding, the wedding party, and married life.

The whole world watched as Kate Middleton became Princess William. We laughed at silly hats, stodgy English clergy, and the trees in the cathedral. The royal family spent millions of dollars on a wedding event for the world to watch. But at the core of all the pomp and circumstance stand two young adults with a tremendous amount of pressure to make things work. After the wedding, those two ordinary people have to go home and talk about the weather for the next fifty years.

Marriage continues beyond the honeymoon. Even as a single person, I can say that good marriages take work. As the bride of Christ, we're no trophy wife. We've got our work cut out for us. As the Bride of Christ it is our responsibility to go into the world and to do all the good we can.

Recently a German Pastor in the United Methodist Church made international headlines. After winning $180,000 on the German version of "Who wants to be a millionair" he gave away $160,000 of it to a family in need.

Rev. Alfred Mignon said, "It is not common for some people to share their belongings, but for Christians, this is a matter of course.”


As Christians we must be known for our generosity.

For many political couples, the wife is the public face. while the husband is the one running for office, her face is the one that charms the hearts of voters. While I won't get into politics - Where would the husbands of Eleanor Roosevelt, Jackie Kennedy, or Laura Bush be without their graceful wives as their public image? Jesus makes a bizarre promise - "You'll do even greater things." - But in the analogy of the church as the bride of Christ, this makes sense. As we always say, behind every great man, there's a great wife. We have our work cut out for ourselves. If we are the public face of God - we've got to watch what we're doing.

When Chelsea Clinton got married, the wedding was performed by a Jewish Rabbi and a United Methodist pastor. Jon Stewart, a comedian, joked that Methodists were the "University of Phoenix of religions." Just check the box and send a check and you can be a member.

What are we as Methodists known for? What do people say about us? What is our repuations? Is our reputation fitting of the Bride of Christ? In Arsenic and Old Lace, there's this great line where the older ladies see a homeless man. The one says to the other, "He's really quite handsome for a Methodist." As the United Methodist church has aged we have become more middle-class, more mainline, and more acceptable. We have lost our edge, our connection to the poor, and our distinct heritage as Methodists.

"Out of the Foundery in London, Wesley organized a number of ministries to serve the poor. He charged the Methodists not to wait for the poor to come to them, rather they were to seek out the poor. Wesley longed for a church that exhibited "charity in all forms". He led his coworkers to beg for funds for the poor, provide soup kitchens, collect clothing and blankets, gather coal for heating, set up medical clinics, form literacy classes, open lending libraries, visit prisoners and their families, tutor children, organize Sunday schools, set up employment services, provide loan funds and establish homes for orphans, unwed mothers and the aged."

As the Bride of Christ - and as members of the Methodist movement - we are charged to go out and to change the world. Knowing that we can do insurmountable good, and knowing that God will give us all good things if only we ask - I charge the question: What should we be asking for? What ministries will we ask God to provide for? How can we as Christians serve the working poor, the disabled, and the disenfranchised.

In our church calendar, two distinct events are celebrated this weekend. We celebrate "Heritage Sunday" and "Save a Life Sunday." For Heritage Sunday we look to the past and celebrate the good that our church has accomplished, for Save a Life Sunday we look to the future and see the good that our church can still accomplish. We claim our heritage and expand upon it.

Dear friends, it's time for us to reclaim our heritage. It is time for us to stand up and to take our rightful place as part of the bride of Christ. It's time for us to engage in serious ministry with the poor in our community and around the world. Tonight we will take up a special offering for Imagine No Malaria, perhaps this week you will also offer up some time to God to think and pray about ways for you and our congregation to be in ministry to, with, and for the poor in our community.

I'm not opposed to using business and marketing language when discussing the church. At licensing school we had to learn the mantra that "You have to run the church like a business. But, the church is not a business."

In contemporary circles, many discussions focus on growing our churches. Some people don't believe this is important. I tend not to have too much time for them. The rest of us seem to fall into two groups. One group insists that we just have to pray more. I hope they do.

The other group tends toward changing methods and practices which are ineffective.

Ineffective churches bother me for one reason. It takes just as much time, energy, and resources to run an ineffective church as it does to run an effective one. Usually more. My mentor has often said that if he was in such a position, he would close down half the churches in America: and not necessarily the smallest half!

A common theme has been to focus on improving the product. Church's that focus on this goal tend to work hard to improve their Sunday morning worship services. Something about this paradigm has bothered me for years.

Those who distrust business jargon would contest that Jesus is the product, but - that's not quite right. Jesus isn't a commodity. We don't buy or sell him. We can't focus on making Jesus better.

But, we have been working hard to produce the wrong product. The product that we produce is disciples. As churches we create disciples. While we have worship services, youth ministries, education programs, etc.: these are not the product we create.

The Hershey's corporation has probably spent millions of dollars on the complicated machinery it takes to produce Hershey's kisses. But, other than an occasional tour or 30-minute special, we never see the machinery. On a daily basis, we see the product and not the machinery required to produce the product. What if you had to tour the factory every time you wanted a delicious chocolate kiss?

You probably wouldn't be eating too many chocolate kisses. And yet, week after week, we attempt to expose pre-Christians to the machinery and not the product.

Perhaps it is time to turn that idea upside down. Maybe we need to hide the machinery and show off the product. Maybe we need to stop pushing worship attendance and begin pushing our disciples out into the world. And not to do "ministry." But, just to be out in the world.

What would it take to move our churches toward the goal of producing BETTER disciples. Not more of them, but qualitatively better Christians.

Would we need to scrap the Sunday worship service? Would we need to individualise Christian education? Would our structure need to change to allow for one-on-one discipling instead of weekly lecturing? Would burn-out be as common or as severe?


The mission statement of the United Methodist Church (with just a touch of business jargon) is "to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world." The commission was to make disciples. Church as we know it is almost entirely absent in the Bible.

Our focus must again move toward producing disciples. Not members, not worshippers, not attendees; but disciples. Unless our machinery is creating people willing to go anywhere and do anything in the pursuit of Jesus Christ and the transformation of the world - it is time to replace the machinery.

Looking around ... I'm going to vote that it's time to replace some machinery.

Maundy Thursday

Jesus' disciples were all good and faithful Jewish men. Although they weren't the most highly educated, they came from faithful families. They had almost certainly celebrated a Seder meal every year of their lives. The word "Seder" actually means "order." As in the fact that there is a specific order to the meal. Just like we are known as Methodists, because of our specific methods of organizing.

The disciples entered into the upper room with the knowledge that they knew what was coming next. They knew the routine, the knew the order of the seder meal.

But that night in the Upper Room would be very different. From the very entrance, Jesus changed the formula. In place of the lowly servant to wash their feet, Jesus kneels before them. Jesus used the ritual and tradition that was so very familiar to them, but Jesus infused it with new meaning.

Tonight we will celebrate a traditional Jewish Seder meal, but because of our faith in Jesus as the Messiah; these symbols mean something different to us. The Jewish Seder meal celebrates the past and longs for the future - our meal tonight celebrates the past, the present, and the future.

Let's begin with the past.

Read the account of the passover.

The Jewish people were slaves in Egypt. We remember the stories of Moses' birth. As the Jewish population increased, they began to outnumber the Egyptians, so Pharoah called for all newborn babies to be killed.

Slavery is the backdrop for our meal tonight. Take the horseradish and eat it. It is bitter. This reminds us of the harsh bitterness of slavery endured by the Jews in Egypt. As Christians, we live in the present, and this bitter herb must also remind us that many people still live with the bitterness of slavery. Around the world millions of people are enslaved. Women and children are subjected to unimaginable horror as sex-slaves, women and children are used as cheap labor in banana republics where they are paid pennies for a solid hour of work, and the lost and the hurting often find themselves enslaved to sin. We taste this bitter herb to remind us that slavery is still an all too real part of life for all too many people.

To wash that taste out of your mouth, you may eat some of the Haroset. It's the apple, cinnamon mix. We eat it because it symbolizes the mud used to create bricks. [As moses was fighting for the freedom of his people, God sent plagues. Pharoah punished the Jewish slaves by demanding that they increase the number of bricks they made each day - but he refused to give them any straw. God provided a miracle and the bricks set up.] This Haroset is used to sweeten the bitterness of slavery. Because of our faith in God, we know that we can survive anything - we know that God is with us. As Christians we work toward the future. We believe and fight for a future free from the yoke of slavery. We pray for wisdom and try to remember that our actions and purchases either encourage or stem the tide of unfair practices globally.



On the night of the final Plague, Moses instructed the faithful to take the blood of a lamb and to spread it around the doorframe of their house. Take your green and dip it in salt water. This represents the hyssop branch dipped in the Lamb's blood. When death came through, it would passover the homes with the blood of the lamb on their doorframes. That night death took the firstborn of every house in Egypt. Even Pharoah's youngest was killed. This is the reason for the celebration - death passed over the Jewish homes.

Go ahead and taste the lamb, and remember the sacrifice made for you.

You know, oddly enough, in many languages the word for Passover and Easter are the same word. Dear friends, death is coming - it is on its way - and God asks you to take the blood of the lamb and to put it on the doorframe of your heart. Jesus is our sacrificial lamb. His presence in our lives shows without a doubt that death is not welcome here.

This last year has been an especially difficult one for me. More than a year ago one of my closest friends had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. From the other side of the world I watched as my healthy, active 23 year old friend succumbed to the long slow debilitating effects of the cancer. As Christians, we celebrate the tension of living in this era. Death is not welcome here, but it is yet to be fully vanquished.

One day we will live in a world free of sadness and tears. "The last enemy to be defeated shall be death." This lamb is for us a symbol of the blood of the lamb that protected the Jewish people, the blood of our Lamb who protects us, and the promise of a better future - one in which the lion will lie down with the lamb.

The hard boiled egg represents for us the old covenant. The system of offering burnt offerings to appease God. This should remind us of the new covenant - that Jesus Christ died in our place as our sacrifice.

And we come to our final items. Bread and wine.

The Matzah bread is specific because there wasn't time to make yeast breads which would need time to rise. Although the people had been waiting on God, they weren't acting like it. They weren't acting as though they believed that God would free them from slavery. If they had trusted that God would set them free as God had promised, the people would have had bread already prepared.

Sometimes in our own lives, although we say that we trust God, we fail to plan and act accordingly. My great aunt Mabel was a very strict old-school-religion kind of Christian. Her financial adviser had advised several end-of-life care options. He felt that she should buy life insurance and a burial plot, but Aunt Mabel staunchly refused. One day she was going over her finances with my mother who pressed for a reason why she wouldn't make those logical investments. "Well, I plan on going up in the rapture." After she lived for a decade longer than any of her brothers and sisters - we all started getting a little readier for the rapture.

Nothing is funnier than watching children sing "If you're happy and you know it" while obviously not being happy about the fact. Few things are sadder than watching Christians sing about the joy of the Lord with no trace of joy on their faces. Eating the Matzah reminds us to live each day as though we actually believe the things we say we believe.

We drink the wine to remind us that this is a celebration. When Jesus held up the wine, he was reminding his disciples that even at the end of his life - life is a party. As we move closer to Good Friday and we remember the death of Jesus, it is important for us to remember that this Friday truly is good. This sacrifice saves us from sin, from Hell, from ourselves - this sacrifice saves and redeems the world. This bread and this cup are a symbol for us that truly Jesus Christ is our sacrifice. We share in his body and blood and we are saved by nothing less.

After the choir anthem, we will share in Holy Communion together. Like the disciples gathering for the Seder meal - this is something we have done at least dozens of times. We know the order, the method, the ritual; and that knowledge makes it even easier to miss the significance and the meaning of this sacred order. I urge you to remember in earnest the sacrifice of our Lord as we share in communion together.

Jesus the partier

"On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”
“Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”
His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim.

Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.”

They did so, and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside and said, “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”

What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him." - John 2:1-11


Start sermon by bringing out a wine glass.

Wine has been around for thousands of years. In historical settings where water was unsafe to drink, most often people drank wine. Wine is an important part of dozens of cultures. You can't be Italian or French without a nice glass of wine in your hand. Wine doesn't have the same reputation as other alcohols. Vodka and other hard liquors are just used for getting drunk. Beer is often seen as a little low-brow. It's something to drink while sitting on a bench in a park. But wine is different. Wine is used for celebrating. Nothing is as clear a sign of refinement and celebration as uncorking a nice bottle of wine. Wine is a symbol of great wealth. The rich relish in ordering a bottle with a label that clearly shows refinement and taste. University students drink wine out of a box, their parents uncork a bottle with a dog riding a unicycle on the label.

Wine is a symbol of an elegant, delightful party.

[At this point I will bring out a second wine glass and clearly pour grape juice into it for my translator

A TOAST: May you share in the greatest party of your lives. May we find joy together and embrace it with our whole hearts. будьмо!

Today I want to talk about parties and my favorite partier.

It's my last sermon with you - so I can say anything that I want and get away with it. If you have theological questions, feel free to ask David tomorrow.

Jesus was a partier. At least that was the reputation he had. He went to parties thrown by anarchists and attended by prostitutes. When we think of Jesus, many of us think of a quiet reserved man, in a field silently tending sheep as David portrayed him two weeks ago. Someone who would fit in better in a library than a bar. But Jesus' enemies felt quiet differently about him. They lambasted him for his ways. They felt that his lifestyle choices were shameful.

And they weren't so far from the truth. Now we assume that because Jesus was without sin, that Jesus always drank in moderation. We would be wise to do likewise. But whether Jesus drank at all, he was still present and active at some wild parties. His friends were people that you probably wouldn't hang out with. But maybe you should.


...


Life in Christ isn't about following the rules or trying to earn rewards or entrance to heaven. Life in Christ is a party - and you're invited.




This was the third day of the wedding. People had been drunk for three straight days, and Jesus felt it necessary to turn water into wine.


A lot of us were taught the rules of religion when we were growing up. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. Don’t lie, don’t cheat. Throw salt over your left shoulder to knock the devil off. We were taught the rules.

Because it’s a lot easier to teach a toddler not to touch a hot stove, than it is to teach that same toddler how to use that stove to cook the most exquisite meals the world has ever tasted.

When I look at global Christianity, the thing that turns my stomach into knots- the truth that causes great anguish and pain- is that most Christians never move beyond the instruction of rules and regulations of the faith.

Sermon after sermon, book after book, angry grandmother after angry grandmother – they all point to the same thing: we are children and we are going to get burned by the stove.

We are not children anymore. It is time for our faith in Christ to move beyond the gentle instruction reserved for toddlers. We must move into a maturity of faith. We must no longer be afraid of the stove, and instead we must learn to cook delicious meals on it.

Because living in the fullness of Christ is a party. It’s a lavish affair that goes on and on and on. Jesus and his disciples show up while the party is in full swing. It has been going on for several days – and then they run out of wine. Not only does Jesus support the merits of having an occasional glass of wine for your health – he embraces the joy, delight, and merriment of a drunken party lasting well into next week.

Jesus tells the head servant to take a cup and fill it with water and take that cup of water to the man sitting at the head of the table. Now, if you or I were asked this request – we would go to the faucet. But, this was Cana 2000 years ago. They didn’t have faucets – they didn’t have running water. The water wasn’t safe to drink – so they didn’t keep “drinking water" around. They lived in the desert. This head servant dipped his cup into the only water supply in the house – the water that had been used in the ceremonial washing.

As guests arrived over the three day long party, the servants used the whole supply of water to wash the feet of the guests. The wedding party and the most important guests would have washed first – with clean water. Women, children, servants, slaves, and late-comers would have washed with the dirty water that was left over.
It was this dirty water, this used-up source, that was available when Jesus asked the servant to take some water to the head of the household.

Now, these were harsh times for servants and slaves. If the servant brought you a cup of filthy, muddy water – you didn’t laugh it off as a good prank; you had his head cut off for insubordination.

Although this man has never seen Jesus perform a miracle (remember, this was Jesus’ first public miracle), and has maybe never even heard him preach, he has had the privilege of interacting with Jesus. He and his fellow servants have washed the feet of Jesus and the disciples as they entered the party. What about that 20 minute interaction let the head-servant know that he could trust his job – his very life – to the words and actions of this wandering teacher and his twelve disciples? Maybe the servant knew Mary well and trusted her words intimately. We will never know for sure.

But we do know, he trusted Jesus enough to dip his chalice into dirty, used up water and walked to the front of the hall to deliver the most delicious wine ever created to the head of the party.

Jesus is asking the same of you. First, he’s asking you to trust him. You've known Jesus for longer than 20 minutes. Just as Mary says to the servant, I say to you this day, "Do whatever he tells you."

He’s asking you to take a real leap of faith and to really trust him. Jesus wants you to really trust him with not only your job and the respect that people show you, but He wants you to risk even your very life.

Second, he's asking you to dip into the dirty water of the world. Because if we want to see a miracle, we have to work with what we've got.

This world is dirty and filthy. People are mean and cruel. I could read you statistics about how many people are addicted to drugs, how many people get raped, how many children go to bed hungry at night, how many people are beat up in hate crimes because of the color of their skin or because of whom they love, or how many people are killed in violent crimes every year. I could read you these statistics, but I think that deep down you already know them. You know that we live in a fallen world.

So instead, I'll read you the hope and promise that Christ has given us. “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”

Jesus Christ is the best wine the world has ever tasted. Jesus wants us to stand up and have the courage to dip into the filthy, dirty world and to know that from that we will pull out the finest wine. When we are ready and willing to get our hands dirty and to engage with the world - at that point we will experience the fullness of Jesus Christ as Savior who can move the mountains.

Trust that the Holy Spirit will guide you. Don't just give a few coins to the old lady holding out a cup - ask her to share her story. Think about where you spend your free time and where people who don't know Jesus spend theirs.

There's this really beautiful miracle that Jesus wants to make happen, but he needs you to take the lead and dip into the dirty water and to risk your life to bring it to the world. I don't know what it is, but I think that you should "Do whatever he tells you."

After 13 beautiful months, today is my final day in L'viv. I refuse to mourn this fact. In Jesus Christ, life is a party. We have celebrated and partied together for 13 months, and as brothers and sisters we will continue to party together for all of eternity. Whether I come back in a few months or a few years or whether we don't get to see each other again until we are with Jesus; the party continues.

This day Jesus is asking us all to trust Him and do as he says. Leaving this place today is part of that trust. While it breaks my heart to say goodbye, I will gladly dip my chalice into this dirty water - because I have the hope and the promise that Jesus Christ saves the best for last. The best is yet to come, and we are part of making that happen.

May you always have the freedom to live in the joy of Christ. May you have the courage to celebrate and party in the face of danger and strife. Amen.

My final sermon at L'viv UMC.

A parable:

I once knew a couple who were farmers, and we used to go often to visit their farm. At one point in my childhood, finances got tight and they had to close down the farm for a few years. They sold all of the livestock and didn't plant any new crops. The barns stood empty and the fields were bare. But, for these two farmers, their lives revolved around the farming community. Their calendar had been filled with farming, farming conferences, cattle auctions, and shows.

So, with or without the farm, they continued with their farming lifestyle. They attended farming conferences. They listened to lectures about the latest farming technologies. They discussed which seed varieties worked best in their region. They learned about which tractors and combines were most effective to plow and to harvest.

And then they went home. They didn't farm. They talked about how helpful the farming conference had been and they both agreed that it had made them better farmers.

They went to cattle auctions and watched as other people bid on cows. Then they went home. They looked out at the empty barn and shrugged their shoulders. They didn't plant and they didn't harvest for another year.

The next year they eagerly signed up again for the regional farming conference. They were so excited to learn how to be better farmers, and to be taught how to grow and harvest more effectively. They were really ready for this conference to make them even better farmers than the conference the year before.

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After I became a Christian I wasted several years. I didn't share my faith with anyone for a long time because I was afraid. I assumed that I didn't have the right words, or that I couldn't answer their questions. I was afraid that people would reject me. I read books on the subject, and listened to sermons about it, but I never took that first step of sharing my faith.

I love the simplicity of the witness of the man in today's story. He sees that the Pharisees are stuck on some complex theological issue and he states simply that he doesn't know the answer. But he continues, "One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!"

It's this simple answer that the divided world is looking for. While professors and lawyers argue over great theological questions - the rest of us are left to give the simple answer. We can only share what we know. "I was blind but now I see!" I hated everything about myself and now I love myself. I was an angry drunk and now I love my family. I was a sinner and now I'm forgiven.

I want you to watch this video.

[I'm not sure if we'll watch the whole video in church ... maybe just a few minutes. I really wrestled with the idea of performing this, or making this interactive somehow. I'm not done wrestling yet!]

I want you to think about your own life. Could you explain what Jesus has done on one piece of paper? Could you then stand up on a stage and show that paper to everyone else? Could you say those two phrases to someone that you really love?

These last few weeks we've been preaching about sharing our faith. We hope that we have helped you become more confident and motivated to share your faith. As Christians, we believe that our collective testimony is powerful and world-changing. I want to share three stories with you all today that highlight this fact:

Almost 300 years ago the Methodist movement began. It grew out of frustration with the established church. It was a time in church history when the church was dead. The wealthy and the powerful went to church to be seen. The poor and the powerless were simply not welcome.

John and Charles Wesley came from an odd family life. Their father had been a priest, but he left his congregation to move to the city. His wife, Susanna, felt that it was important that her children have instruction - so she began teaching them on Sunday mornings. Well, soon enough, the other mothers found out about the Bible classes and asked if their children could also attend. And soon the mothers also began attending. And then the fathers began attending.

Susanna Wesley soon had a thriving congregation on her hands - and, unintentionally, she was their priest. So the Wesley children grew up with the knowledge that God worked in strange and wonderful ways - and that God worked through all kinds of people.

When the Wesley brothers were old enough they became priests as well, but the sensed that the church was dying - if not already dead! People with great wealth went to church on Sunday morning to be seen by others. The poor were no longer welcome in the church. The job of "priest" had become a profitable career choice. The Wesley brothers wanted to see their church come alive again. They became part of a home group - and during this time their hearts were strangely warmed. They began to see the problems that had been slowly eating away at the church.

They began preaching to all people. If the poor weren't welcomed into the church - then neither was Jesus and neither were the Wesley brothers. They would go and preach somewhere else. They preached the good news that Jesus Christ died for sinners and that all may be made right with God through Jesus - and they preached it everywhere. They preached in marketplaces and they stood on tombstones and preached it in cemeteries. Crowds gathered to hear this radical idea - and this idea is still radical today! - and the Wesley brothers formed these men and women into home groups.



75 years ago Elaine Neale was growing up in a poor immigrant family. Her father was a mean drunk and it wasn't uncommon for the children to have bruises. One of her neighbors attended the Methodist church in her little town, and came over one day to ask if she could bring Elaine and her sisters to Sunday School with her own children. Each Sunday she would walk with her sisters to the local United Methodist church.

They went to the United Methodist church because they were welcome there. People loved them there. To the people at that little United Methodist congregation; it didn't matter how poor those little girls were, it didn't matter how much of a drunk their daddy was, and it didn't matter that they didn't know anything about the Bible or how good people behaved. What mattered was that Jesus loved them, and so did the people of that little church.

I am standing here today because that woman had the courage to invite my grandmother to church and because that little church loved her and her sister's unconditionally.



In Mongolia I met several people with the name Nergyui. Now, in Mongolia people attribute great importance to names. I assumed that Nergyui must be a particularly beautiful and meaningful name. I asked one of the boys named Nergyui what his name meant and his eyes looked toward the floor. "My name means, 'no name'" he said.

In Mongolia, if a child dies, his or her name is no longer considered beautiful. So, if parents think that a child will die they choose not to waste a good name on them. I met many such people. Ter bish - not this. no one. nothing.

All of their lives, the world had told them that they were nothing - but in the church they found that they were so precious that God was willing to give Jesus to be nothing in their place. The United Methodist church in Mongolia is filled with such people. These people find the meaning and purpose that their lives had always been missing.



I share these examples to show the church in three very different locations and time periods working at its best. These were churches that looked beyond what the world saw and in turn they were able to transform the world.

In the past I have been afraid to share my faith because I felt like I was doing it simply for myself. I was trying to make myself feel better, or I was trying to be a better Christian because witnessing was what I was "supposed to do." When we share our faith with the world, we move in the direction of transformation.

If that neighbor lady hadn't invited my grandmother to church, I wouldn't be here today. For three generations we have worked for the cause of the gospel. We have shared our faith and we have fought for social change. I am very, very thankful that that woman worked up the courage to ask if she could bring my grandmother and her sisters to church. I owe a lot of my life and my ministry to her.

When we share our faith in big and small ways, we receive a blessing. But the fried that we share with also receives a blessing. Whether he or she accepts or rejects your words, the blessing is in part simply knowing that you care enough to share. If that friend accepts, his or her life will be blessed immeasurably by God. The world will be blessed by the new life that person has in God. The people they share with will be blessed.

When Jesus spat in the mud and placed it in the eyes of the blind man, he opened his eyes to a whole new world. The man had never seen anything before. He and his family had been shunned by the community because of his blindness - and now he could see. His life had been transformed by Jesus Christ and he was ready to tell the whole world.

You know, there are a lot of people who will tell you that it's wrong to share your faith. The pharisees were angry and upset that Jesus had performed this miracle. As though there was something sinful about opening someone's eyes to a whole new world. If people felt this way about Jesus, you can bet the farm that they'll feel the same way when you do it. People will be upset when you help to open people's hearts to God.

But, do you know who wasn't upset or angry? The blind man. He was thrilled to have his sight back. He was so overjoyed that he was ready to share his faith even with the powerful and important men who were clearly angry at this Jesus who "sinned" by healing on the Sabbath. No matter how you go about it, any person whose life is changed by Jesus Christ will be glad that you shared with them.

Go forth this day, armed with nothing but your simple story, and transform this world for Jesus Christ.

I celebrated Christmas today. It was one of those random moments that I'm slightly notorious for. There remains a slight perception that in my family people either end up eccentric or crazy - and I have few qualms about embracing eccentricity.

Truth be told, the need to celebrate Christmas had something to do with losing Jonathan. There was some hint of grief and indwelling sadness, a hint that might remain for some time. I couldn't quite make the connection. It's like the lochness monster, I'm still convinced that it's there - I just couldn't find it.

I cooked a traditional Christmas dinner, invited a friend over, and watched some Christmas specials. It was perfect like the morning after the last Pancake and Pajama night. The one with Rebecca still in Georgia. A group had spent the night and studied for a math exam. I was more than ready, and managed to sleep at least 6 hours while everyone else crammed. I was the only one to pass the exam. In the morning, Rebecca made us all pancakes before she went into work. She made a Mickey mouse pancake for Jonathan. It was perfect like Christmas dinner in March.

It feels a little bit as though so many things are broken in my life. I banter around the phrase "in my broken Ukrainian" to describe all of my conversations; this as though at one point I had spoken Ukrainian quiet lovely and fluently and then one day a neighborhood kid hit a baseball through it and suddenly it was broken.

We need a better word:

Flailing?
Stuttered?
Slovenly?

Because it's not that things are broken. It's that things are flailing about in a slovenly fashion. I stutter over the remains of self confidence and stop-gap at memories.

I can't mention baseball without remembering the time that Jonathan was staying at my house and the tree branch fell on my neighbor's roof. It made a tremendous noise, and sounded like someone had broken down the door. By the time I sat up and reached under my bed for the baseball bat, Jonathan was already out on the porch in - with my baseball bat in hand, in nothing but his underwear. It was another of those eccentric moments that made my gossipy neighbors overjoyed.

It will take a while to deal with this grief. It will help to go to his graveside, to visit with his family, to talk with our friends about him. But, this too shall pass. I'll move past mandating holidays and word-association games. Eventually I'll get to the point were things are back to normal. I'll forgive easily and I'll love easily, again.

It might take a few more random holidays. Who's up for Halloween in two weeks? Really.

In memoriam...

Jonathan and I became friends when he decided to write a love letter to my friend, Rachel. I had met him before and didn't like him. He seemed too cocky, to self-assured. We sat on an old pipe that crossed the river and had a strict discussion. A few days later I went to his room to confront him about an action that I found inappropriate. I thought he would blow me off - but soon he started showing up at my house to talk.

Jonathan and I would go on long drives together, he would offer to buy me a beverage every time we stopped at a gas station. I had never paid gas-station-prices for anything, and felt that I was being treated to a real luxury. Sometimes we would steal away to a secret spot to smoke a clove cigarette. This fact embarrasses me now beyond belief - but I haven't smoked in ages and it didn't embarrass Jon; so maybe it shouldn't. We wanted to be rebellious and as middle-class white males we really didn't have much else going in our favor in that department - so smoking would suffice.

With passion oozing out of every orifice, he would explain the latest injustice. Some days we felt like we could change the world - other days felt more hopeless than a quicksand swimming pool.

Now that this long battle is over; I begin to wonder, "What's next?" With whom will I crusade? How am I suppose to change the world without J.G. Pound at my side? Sometimes the weight is oppresive - that I might have to carry out our vision without him. Other days I laugh with joy and hope - Jonathan has led like a true visionary and there are hundreds who will take up the cross to go where Jon has been heading.

Who among our friends will leave behind their vision of a comfy desk job to staff an orphanage in India? Which fellow student will begin working with troubled teens to show them God's love? Who will plant churches? Who will challenge "good Christians" to think a little harder about the theological pills they're swallowing? Who will fight the administration when it tries to screw over students to gain more of the almighty dollar? Who will love people that others find detestable?

You. You who knew and loved our dear friend. You who have loved and prayed and fought to the very end. You will crusade with us. You will live out the vision that Jonathan has boldly proclaimed in the name of Christ.

Sick.

I've been sick this last week. It was just a little virus with no major complications ... but it sure did knock me out for a while. I felt a little ill on Monday night law week, but tried to push through it. I managed to get everything done for English Club last Tuesday, but I had to go home sick in the afternoon - and I was in bed sick for the next five days! I managed to make it through the whole day on Sunday, but I have been taking it easy since then. I'm still at about 50% energy!

Sorry for not blogging at all these last few weeks.