“We don’t cry over broken dishes, we cry over broken people.”
Two days before my sister’s wedding we were picking up some candies from the home of an older adult in our congregation. Rebecca, two or three days after having her gall bladder removed, managed to get out of the vehicle with the SUV still in drive. Rebecca, Kay Magnuson, and I all watched as the large vehicle slowly rolled toward Kay’s garage door.
The garage door was demolished, and our large SUV just missed Kay’s car parked inside her garage. Rebecca immediately broke down in tears; as this was most assuredly the straw that broke the camels back.
Kay hobbled over to her and gently said, “As I always told my children, we don’t cry over broken dishes, we cry over broken people.”
I leave shortly for a year in South Korea. I’m dealing with the emotional issues of leaving behind all of my STUFF. I have a house full of stuff. Some of it good and valuable, some of it useless junk, but it’s still MY STUFF.
I’ve amassed a house full of beautiful furniture, most of which I am selling at bargain basement prices. Although I have sold what feels like hundreds of books, I still have hundreds more. I don’t want to get rid of some of the stuff until I actually leave; why give up my TV now when I still need it for a few weeks.
I have paintings and frames that I love and want to keep, but I obviously can’t take them with me.
I don’t know exactly what I’m doing with my cat. I think Vassya is going to live with his grandparents, but there’s a lot of logistical stuff to deal with.
Some days I feel that I’m sitting in a rubbage pile of broken dishes … and I just need to keep reminding myself that
“We don’t cry over broken dishes, we cry over broken people.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday
I held an infant today. He’s six weeks old, but was born premature enough that he still resembles a baby burps-a-lot and weighs as much as a standard issue paper weight. I can’t help but giggle while remembering the experience. His little mouth opening with all his might to let out the biggest little yawn imaginable - his toothless gums flapping on either side of the great canyon. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not my sister – I’m not thrown into a frenzy of coveting a baby of my own every time I hear an innocent coo. I’m not like that.
I was, however, thrown into a frenzy of awe at the presence of God being so close.
I’m in season 5 of OZ now. I’m continually amazed at the depth of spiritual conversation that a raw, gritty show allows. The prison psychiatrist is a nun, and she plans to leave the convent because she has lost her faith in God. I’ve been waiting patiently to see how this would play out – would they make a mockery of God or would they show true, honest faith?
The beautiful scene plays out in several parts. In the first she is talking with a prisoner who is special needs. She is evaluating whether his medication is sufficient or if he needs more. He says that he prays every night and the conversation turns spiritual. He talks about his faith – such simple faith as only a truly simple person can possess. He says, “God chooses us, we don’t choose God.” A few scenes later Sister Peter Marie is counseling another inmate. He asks some really difficult questions. She ends the conversation with the simple answer, “God chooses us, we don’t choose God.” She has made her decision – she will stay in the convent.
Such a moving scene, to see an educated “professional” Christian being taught by the simplest of men. As I get closer to graduation, I realize how much I need simple people of simple faith around me.
I was, however, thrown into a frenzy of awe at the presence of God being so close.
I’m in season 5 of OZ now. I’m continually amazed at the depth of spiritual conversation that a raw, gritty show allows. The prison psychiatrist is a nun, and she plans to leave the convent because she has lost her faith in God. I’ve been waiting patiently to see how this would play out – would they make a mockery of God or would they show true, honest faith?
The beautiful scene plays out in several parts. In the first she is talking with a prisoner who is special needs. She is evaluating whether his medication is sufficient or if he needs more. He says that he prays every night and the conversation turns spiritual. He talks about his faith – such simple faith as only a truly simple person can possess. He says, “God chooses us, we don’t choose God.” A few scenes later Sister Peter Marie is counseling another inmate. He asks some really difficult questions. She ends the conversation with the simple answer, “God chooses us, we don’t choose God.” She has made her decision – she will stay in the convent.
Such a moving scene, to see an educated “professional” Christian being taught by the simplest of men. As I get closer to graduation, I realize how much I need simple people of simple faith around me.
Monday, April 20, 2009
I preached on Sunday
Here is my sermon from the 11AM service. It's long, so this is only for the extremely dedicated blog followers. The scripture is Luke 24:36-49.
Our scripture today finds us in the Upper Room. The 11 remaining disciples are gathered together as two of the men tell a fantastic story of walking for several miles with a stranger. This man was a real “know it all.” He talked the whole road about theology and the scriptures and how they related to this man Jesus of Nazareth. Upon arriving in Emmaus these three men sat down to eat dinner. As the stranger broke the bread something clicked in the minds of the other two men and they realized that they were with the risen Christ.
They explained that when they understood … Jesus vanished.
I can see the other disciples, 11 men packed in a secluded room, hiding in fear of the authorities. “If they can kill Jesus without reason, they could kill us for being his followers.” They might have said, or at least thought.
We don’t know if they fully believed that the resurrection had happened. Did they buy the story these two men told? We can imagine their proud thoughts as they doubt the story being told, “If I was with Jesus for a whole day I would recognize him.”
Elvis statistics.
I don’t know if you all know this or not, but some people believe that Elvis Presley is still alive. Some devout followers of this particular king have concocted strange and fanatical tales of a staged death, a midnight flight to Aruba to flee from the mob, and even a comeback tour as a masked singer under a pseudonym. Thousands of people have recorded Elvis sightings. Never mind that hundreds if not thousands of people make a living impersonating Elvis. To the few faithful, every sighting is further confirmation that Elvis is still in the building.
Seeing is believing?
As they finished their strange story, Jesus appeared in the upper room. The disciples were terrified. A ghost. The ghost of Jesus was with them.
Jesus held out his scarred hands and invited them to see and feel for themselves. This was not a ghost, a vision, an apparition. This was Jesus of Nazareth. In the flesh, so to speak. The man they had eaten with on Thursday, the man who died on the cross on Friday, and the man who had been buried in a tomb for 3 days was standing before them.
“While in their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering …”
A few months ago, I asked Dr. Ken if I could preach once before I graduate. We picked a date and he gave me some scriptures to use.
As I read each scripture passage I felt more and more encouraged. I would be preaching a sermon on a topic I knew at least a little about: Doubt.
“While in their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering…”
I’ve never been one of those Christians who has “everything together.”
I’m a devout Christian, a strong, lifelong United Methodist, and a missionary candidate with the General Board of Global Ministries. BUT I’m also scattered on opinions, I question all authority, I argue with God during my prayer times, and I’ve had my fair share of doubts.
“There is more faith, believe me, in honest doubt than half the creeds.” – Tenessee Williams?
I always try to be extremely honest about my doubt. Some days I think about all the suffering in the world and my small brain can’t compute how an all loving God allows even half of it to go on. Some days I doubt the calling God has put on my life. Occasionally I doubt that I’m “missionary material.”
I understand when Luke writes that “While in their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering …” but, this verse continues , “…he said to them, ‘Do you have anything here to eat?”
While they doubt Him – they doubt the reality of his resurrection – he asks for some food. He eats some fish. Jesus proves the most amazing miracle by performing the most mundane task. Jesus showed those men that He rose from the dead by eating a few bites of fish.
Jesus could have used any number of miracles to prove the resurrection. We love miracles. We always have. Jesus gathered large crowds by performing miracles. Today, certain dubious televangelists, use miracles to gather large due paying crowds. And let’s be honest. If someone wheeled down to this altar and Dr. Ken or Pastor Tom healed them miraculously a few more of us might be inclined to leave our comfortable pews and walk the sawdust trail. We love miracles. Flashy lights, a big show. THIS is the proof we desire.
But Jesus doesn’t give us our wish on this occasion. He sits down and eats some fish.
The normalcy, the mundane, the routine. Jesus reveals himself to the two men on the road to Emmaus by breaking bread. He offers his scarred hands, feet, and side as the tangible proof that he isn’t a ghost. He eats a snack to prove his resurrection.
While God is the God of miracles, and signs, and wonders – and I’m convinced we see these things as often as those who lived through the writing of the Bible – God is also the God of the routine. Living and working through the day to day lives of those who follow God’s son, Jesus Christ.
I was talking to a girl in our youth group. She is a gymnast. At 12, she realizes that she will be old enough to qualify for the next Olympic games in London in 2012.
Andrea explained her training to me – She goes to gymnastics practice after school. I asked, “Do you go every day?” She quickly, nonchalantly answered, “No, just Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Oh, and some Saturdays.”
Andrea trains daily because she has a goal. That goal might become an Olympic medal if she continues to train and improve at the same rate.
I will never win an Olympic medal. You will never see this face on a Wheaties box. You might see Andreas.
I asked Andrea how often she falls. Her response … “a lot.”
I’ve never fallen off a balance beam! Andrea has. Now we might conclude from these two facts that I’m a better gymnast. But, we’d be wrong. If you’ve never fallen off a balance beam you’ve never been ON a balance beam.
And this brings us back to doubt and faith. There’s nothing wrong with doubt – if you’re struggling to live out the faith. There’s nothing wrong with falling off the balance beam – if you’re training to be a gymnast. If you’ve never had doubts, the God you’re envisioning isn’t big enough. If you’ve lived a doubt free life you may have lived a faith-free life.
Because I never want to limit God, I will say that there is a remote possibility that God might call me to gymnastics and that I might miraculously win the gold medal. I doubt it though. What is more realistic is that Andrea might keep training, might keep falling off the balance beam, might keep getting back up and getting back on that beam and that she will achieve her goal of becoming a gymnast.
It’s possible that one Sunday morning God will miraculously heal a person through Dr. Ken and revival will break out because of the miracle.
However, it’s much more likely that God will lead a revival through the efforts of a few dozen lay people living out their faith in fairly mundane, normal ways. If we live for Christ, He will use our routine interactions to reveal the greatest truth the world has ever known.
When we sit down to eat a meal with others, when we share our wounds with a friend – Christ will use these normal events to change hearts toward the truth.
After Jesus eats some fish to prove that he is truly flesh and bones, Jesus gives his disciples the Great Commission. This is our communal call as Christians to proclaim the good news “in His name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.”
This summer, I preached about missions at a camp for Russian United Methodist youth. I told my story of how I became a follower of Christ – and how I found community in the church. I shared stories of my time with you. I told of my loving and gracious Sunday School class who took me in even though I didn’t look or sound like them – of how they furnished my apartment when they found out I didn’t have a bed. I told them that this church rallied behind me in my call to missions and raised more than $3,000 to send me to Russia.
I asked others to share their stories of a loving church. As we gave our accounts, we took up balls of string and circled the congregation of youth. I explained that our church family is like the arms of God wrapping around us. I also explained that sometimes the safety and comfort of those tightly wound arms of love prevent us from going outside of our church family. Like the string surrounding them kept them inside, so too our loving, nurturing congregations can keep us inside these four walls.
I produced 5 pair of scissors. One for each time the great commission is recorded in the gospels and acts. As they read the verses out loud, they cut the strings.
The record of the great commission in Luke is important because it states, “beginning from Jerusalem.” This important city was where they were. Jesus looked at this group of disciples, cowering in the upper room, and told them to leave those four walls behind.
The Great Commission is my favorite sermon to preach. I’m good at it, maybe a little too good. It’s too easy for me to get up in the bully pulpit and declare shame and damnation to all those who won’t go to the ends of the world … like I … Michael Airgood will. I live and breath the great commission – it is literally my bread and butter. So, it’s easy for me to get up in front of people to talk about their sin of not going to Africa. And about my super-human faith that will allow me to get on a plane in 4 short weeks bound for South Korea.
But I don’t believe that everyone is called to Africa, or Asia, or to ever step on a plane. Nor do I believe that I have super-human faith. I’m called to be a missionary and that’s my joy and my struggle. However, I do believe that the Great Commission is for everyone. That we as a community are called to leave these four walls behind.
Mother Teresa might possibly be the greatest example we have a person who truly lived out the Great Commission. There isn’t a list of modern spiritual figures without her name somewhere on it. She left home at a young age to become a missionary nun to the poorest of the poor. She sacrificed. She poured her blood, sweat, and tears into every moment of her ministry.
A few years ago her personal diaries were released to the public. Many were shocked to find that this great woman of faith was full of ordinary doubts. That her mind and her faith had the same doubts that we all share. That she was normal. Human.
(Jackson’s Story)
The Easter when I was 15 was particularly significant. On the Friday before Easter, what we in the Christian faith call “Good Friday,” a call went up from the next town over that a little boy had gone missing.
Jackson was four years old and had been playing at his grandmother’s house before he disappeared. They called for volunteers to come help search for the lost boy and I quickly volunteered. I was friends with the pastor of the United Methodist church in that town, and he made certain that every United Methodist church in the area was mobilized. Hundreds and hundreds of people descended on the small town to help in the search. We searched for hours and hours. We prayed together for a safe return. When night fell the search was called off until the morning. It hit freezing during the night.
In the early morning, when the search was picked back up, all of the volunteers were formed into a grid, so that every square inch for miles would be searched. At some point in the afternoon, the volunteers were informed that we were no longer searching for a lost little boy, but that we were searching for the body of a four year old boy. Some of the less dedicated packed up and went home. A scuba team was brought in to drag a local lake to look for the body. We searched until dark when they called the search off for the second night.
That night, we gathered in the tiny Methodist church for prayer. There weren’t many of us left. Although so many had been enthusiastic at the get go, under the pressure and pain of bad news only a few remained for the search and even fewer felt like praying.
The only pastor in the small town, my friend Marty prayed something to the effect of, “God sometimes we don’t understand, but we still trust you.” It was one of those prayers that is theologically correct, yet entirely empty to pray.
As we were packing up to go home, I talked with Pastor Marty, and he told me with more than a hint of sadness and frustration “now I have to go write my Easter sermon.”
How do you write about the resurrection under those circumstances? How do you preach the good news of Jesus Christ with that weighing on your mind? Marty could have stepped up to the podium that next morning and declared, “It’s all a lie. The resurrection never happened.” And he probably would have heard a few Amen’s.
So when I read this narrative, I remember the time when I experienced the feeling those 12 felt. There were probably fewer than 20 of us left that night, in prayer and confusion, and doubt. Gathered as a group and yet so alone; so very alone.
And then a stranger entered. He was a professional EMT from a city a few hours away who had been brought in to help. The strongest memory in my mind is that he was crying. He opened his mouth and with a booming voice said, “They found Jackson, alive and unhurt.”
That night we rang the church bells for hours. The whole town celebrated. Marty never got around to writing his Easter morning sermon, it had already been preached.
The resurrection a reality
that day
for those people.
No four walls could contain the joy of the resurrection experienced that Easter morning.
Now I’ve covered a lot of ground in this sermon. From Elvis to Mother Teresa to a tiny church with contagious joy over a miracle. There’s a lot to cover when you’re talking about doubt and faith.
The extreme followers of Elvis have a lot of faith – but that doesn’t change the truth, their lives, or the world.
Mother Teresa was full of doubt and faith. At her darkest moments, when her mind was full of nothing but doubt – the Resurrection was still true. And here’s the best part. Because we live in the tension of doubt and faith and because we serve a truly Risen King our lives are changed.
And our changed lives will change the world.
Go forth this day, allowing our joy to break through these four walls, so that we may be the wounded hands, feet, and side of Christ. Allow the doubting, questioning world to touch and feel the reality of our faith. Share a meal with someone who doesn’t know what to think – allow your life, your daily (routine, mundane, normal) life to prove the resurrection of Christ. Allow your changed life to change the world.
Our scripture today finds us in the Upper Room. The 11 remaining disciples are gathered together as two of the men tell a fantastic story of walking for several miles with a stranger. This man was a real “know it all.” He talked the whole road about theology and the scriptures and how they related to this man Jesus of Nazareth. Upon arriving in Emmaus these three men sat down to eat dinner. As the stranger broke the bread something clicked in the minds of the other two men and they realized that they were with the risen Christ.
They explained that when they understood … Jesus vanished.
I can see the other disciples, 11 men packed in a secluded room, hiding in fear of the authorities. “If they can kill Jesus without reason, they could kill us for being his followers.” They might have said, or at least thought.
We don’t know if they fully believed that the resurrection had happened. Did they buy the story these two men told? We can imagine their proud thoughts as they doubt the story being told, “If I was with Jesus for a whole day I would recognize him.”
Elvis statistics.
I don’t know if you all know this or not, but some people believe that Elvis Presley is still alive. Some devout followers of this particular king have concocted strange and fanatical tales of a staged death, a midnight flight to Aruba to flee from the mob, and even a comeback tour as a masked singer under a pseudonym. Thousands of people have recorded Elvis sightings. Never mind that hundreds if not thousands of people make a living impersonating Elvis. To the few faithful, every sighting is further confirmation that Elvis is still in the building.
Seeing is believing?
As they finished their strange story, Jesus appeared in the upper room. The disciples were terrified. A ghost. The ghost of Jesus was with them.
Jesus held out his scarred hands and invited them to see and feel for themselves. This was not a ghost, a vision, an apparition. This was Jesus of Nazareth. In the flesh, so to speak. The man they had eaten with on Thursday, the man who died on the cross on Friday, and the man who had been buried in a tomb for 3 days was standing before them.
“While in their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering …”
A few months ago, I asked Dr. Ken if I could preach once before I graduate. We picked a date and he gave me some scriptures to use.
As I read each scripture passage I felt more and more encouraged. I would be preaching a sermon on a topic I knew at least a little about: Doubt.
“While in their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering…”
I’ve never been one of those Christians who has “everything together.”
I’m a devout Christian, a strong, lifelong United Methodist, and a missionary candidate with the General Board of Global Ministries. BUT I’m also scattered on opinions, I question all authority, I argue with God during my prayer times, and I’ve had my fair share of doubts.
“There is more faith, believe me, in honest doubt than half the creeds.” – Tenessee Williams?
I always try to be extremely honest about my doubt. Some days I think about all the suffering in the world and my small brain can’t compute how an all loving God allows even half of it to go on. Some days I doubt the calling God has put on my life. Occasionally I doubt that I’m “missionary material.”
I understand when Luke writes that “While in their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering …” but, this verse continues , “…he said to them, ‘Do you have anything here to eat?”
While they doubt Him – they doubt the reality of his resurrection – he asks for some food. He eats some fish. Jesus proves the most amazing miracle by performing the most mundane task. Jesus showed those men that He rose from the dead by eating a few bites of fish.
Jesus could have used any number of miracles to prove the resurrection. We love miracles. We always have. Jesus gathered large crowds by performing miracles. Today, certain dubious televangelists, use miracles to gather large due paying crowds. And let’s be honest. If someone wheeled down to this altar and Dr. Ken or Pastor Tom healed them miraculously a few more of us might be inclined to leave our comfortable pews and walk the sawdust trail. We love miracles. Flashy lights, a big show. THIS is the proof we desire.
But Jesus doesn’t give us our wish on this occasion. He sits down and eats some fish.
The normalcy, the mundane, the routine. Jesus reveals himself to the two men on the road to Emmaus by breaking bread. He offers his scarred hands, feet, and side as the tangible proof that he isn’t a ghost. He eats a snack to prove his resurrection.
While God is the God of miracles, and signs, and wonders – and I’m convinced we see these things as often as those who lived through the writing of the Bible – God is also the God of the routine. Living and working through the day to day lives of those who follow God’s son, Jesus Christ.
I was talking to a girl in our youth group. She is a gymnast. At 12, she realizes that she will be old enough to qualify for the next Olympic games in London in 2012.
Andrea explained her training to me – She goes to gymnastics practice after school. I asked, “Do you go every day?” She quickly, nonchalantly answered, “No, just Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Oh, and some Saturdays.”
Andrea trains daily because she has a goal. That goal might become an Olympic medal if she continues to train and improve at the same rate.
I will never win an Olympic medal. You will never see this face on a Wheaties box. You might see Andreas.
I asked Andrea how often she falls. Her response … “a lot.”
I’ve never fallen off a balance beam! Andrea has. Now we might conclude from these two facts that I’m a better gymnast. But, we’d be wrong. If you’ve never fallen off a balance beam you’ve never been ON a balance beam.
And this brings us back to doubt and faith. There’s nothing wrong with doubt – if you’re struggling to live out the faith. There’s nothing wrong with falling off the balance beam – if you’re training to be a gymnast. If you’ve never had doubts, the God you’re envisioning isn’t big enough. If you’ve lived a doubt free life you may have lived a faith-free life.
Because I never want to limit God, I will say that there is a remote possibility that God might call me to gymnastics and that I might miraculously win the gold medal. I doubt it though. What is more realistic is that Andrea might keep training, might keep falling off the balance beam, might keep getting back up and getting back on that beam and that she will achieve her goal of becoming a gymnast.
It’s possible that one Sunday morning God will miraculously heal a person through Dr. Ken and revival will break out because of the miracle.
However, it’s much more likely that God will lead a revival through the efforts of a few dozen lay people living out their faith in fairly mundane, normal ways. If we live for Christ, He will use our routine interactions to reveal the greatest truth the world has ever known.
When we sit down to eat a meal with others, when we share our wounds with a friend – Christ will use these normal events to change hearts toward the truth.
After Jesus eats some fish to prove that he is truly flesh and bones, Jesus gives his disciples the Great Commission. This is our communal call as Christians to proclaim the good news “in His name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.”
This summer, I preached about missions at a camp for Russian United Methodist youth. I told my story of how I became a follower of Christ – and how I found community in the church. I shared stories of my time with you. I told of my loving and gracious Sunday School class who took me in even though I didn’t look or sound like them – of how they furnished my apartment when they found out I didn’t have a bed. I told them that this church rallied behind me in my call to missions and raised more than $3,000 to send me to Russia.
I asked others to share their stories of a loving church. As we gave our accounts, we took up balls of string and circled the congregation of youth. I explained that our church family is like the arms of God wrapping around us. I also explained that sometimes the safety and comfort of those tightly wound arms of love prevent us from going outside of our church family. Like the string surrounding them kept them inside, so too our loving, nurturing congregations can keep us inside these four walls.
I produced 5 pair of scissors. One for each time the great commission is recorded in the gospels and acts. As they read the verses out loud, they cut the strings.
The record of the great commission in Luke is important because it states, “beginning from Jerusalem.” This important city was where they were. Jesus looked at this group of disciples, cowering in the upper room, and told them to leave those four walls behind.
The Great Commission is my favorite sermon to preach. I’m good at it, maybe a little too good. It’s too easy for me to get up in the bully pulpit and declare shame and damnation to all those who won’t go to the ends of the world … like I … Michael Airgood will. I live and breath the great commission – it is literally my bread and butter. So, it’s easy for me to get up in front of people to talk about their sin of not going to Africa. And about my super-human faith that will allow me to get on a plane in 4 short weeks bound for South Korea.
But I don’t believe that everyone is called to Africa, or Asia, or to ever step on a plane. Nor do I believe that I have super-human faith. I’m called to be a missionary and that’s my joy and my struggle. However, I do believe that the Great Commission is for everyone. That we as a community are called to leave these four walls behind.
Mother Teresa might possibly be the greatest example we have a person who truly lived out the Great Commission. There isn’t a list of modern spiritual figures without her name somewhere on it. She left home at a young age to become a missionary nun to the poorest of the poor. She sacrificed. She poured her blood, sweat, and tears into every moment of her ministry.
A few years ago her personal diaries were released to the public. Many were shocked to find that this great woman of faith was full of ordinary doubts. That her mind and her faith had the same doubts that we all share. That she was normal. Human.
(Jackson’s Story)
The Easter when I was 15 was particularly significant. On the Friday before Easter, what we in the Christian faith call “Good Friday,” a call went up from the next town over that a little boy had gone missing.
Jackson was four years old and had been playing at his grandmother’s house before he disappeared. They called for volunteers to come help search for the lost boy and I quickly volunteered. I was friends with the pastor of the United Methodist church in that town, and he made certain that every United Methodist church in the area was mobilized. Hundreds and hundreds of people descended on the small town to help in the search. We searched for hours and hours. We prayed together for a safe return. When night fell the search was called off until the morning. It hit freezing during the night.
In the early morning, when the search was picked back up, all of the volunteers were formed into a grid, so that every square inch for miles would be searched. At some point in the afternoon, the volunteers were informed that we were no longer searching for a lost little boy, but that we were searching for the body of a four year old boy. Some of the less dedicated packed up and went home. A scuba team was brought in to drag a local lake to look for the body. We searched until dark when they called the search off for the second night.
That night, we gathered in the tiny Methodist church for prayer. There weren’t many of us left. Although so many had been enthusiastic at the get go, under the pressure and pain of bad news only a few remained for the search and even fewer felt like praying.
The only pastor in the small town, my friend Marty prayed something to the effect of, “God sometimes we don’t understand, but we still trust you.” It was one of those prayers that is theologically correct, yet entirely empty to pray.
As we were packing up to go home, I talked with Pastor Marty, and he told me with more than a hint of sadness and frustration “now I have to go write my Easter sermon.”
How do you write about the resurrection under those circumstances? How do you preach the good news of Jesus Christ with that weighing on your mind? Marty could have stepped up to the podium that next morning and declared, “It’s all a lie. The resurrection never happened.” And he probably would have heard a few Amen’s.
So when I read this narrative, I remember the time when I experienced the feeling those 12 felt. There were probably fewer than 20 of us left that night, in prayer and confusion, and doubt. Gathered as a group and yet so alone; so very alone.
And then a stranger entered. He was a professional EMT from a city a few hours away who had been brought in to help. The strongest memory in my mind is that he was crying. He opened his mouth and with a booming voice said, “They found Jackson, alive and unhurt.”
That night we rang the church bells for hours. The whole town celebrated. Marty never got around to writing his Easter morning sermon, it had already been preached.
The resurrection a reality
that day
for those people.
No four walls could contain the joy of the resurrection experienced that Easter morning.
Now I’ve covered a lot of ground in this sermon. From Elvis to Mother Teresa to a tiny church with contagious joy over a miracle. There’s a lot to cover when you’re talking about doubt and faith.
The extreme followers of Elvis have a lot of faith – but that doesn’t change the truth, their lives, or the world.
Mother Teresa was full of doubt and faith. At her darkest moments, when her mind was full of nothing but doubt – the Resurrection was still true. And here’s the best part. Because we live in the tension of doubt and faith and because we serve a truly Risen King our lives are changed.
And our changed lives will change the world.
Go forth this day, allowing our joy to break through these four walls, so that we may be the wounded hands, feet, and side of Christ. Allow the doubting, questioning world to touch and feel the reality of our faith. Share a meal with someone who doesn’t know what to think – allow your life, your daily (routine, mundane, normal) life to prove the resurrection of Christ. Allow your changed life to change the world.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
I'm Famous
I made the Gainesville Newspaper!
Yesterday a few friends from class went to Gainesville for the Tax Day Tea Party. Jonathan brought the American flag that a Disabled Vietnam Vet had given him. He's the one wearing the tattered American flag.
We managed to make the newspaper.
Theological Thoughts for Thursday
I imagine you've never heard of OZ, and if you have heard about it you probably never watched it. Oz is a weird show - it was HBOs first drama and they were a little too happy to push the envelope with the content they were allowed to show. There are many stabbings and not a few rape scenes - and the show is nothing if not crude. But the show is set in a prison, and is nothing if not real - and this incredible sense of reality lends itself well to deep theological discussions. With more frequency and greater depth than any other commercially viable show.
The prison employs a priest, Father Ray Mukada, and a nun, Sister Peter Marie Reimondo. Sister Pete is a psychiatrist - she counsels drug addicts and arranges conjugal visits for the married inmates. Both characters are liberal. They fight against the death penalty, and for social justice issues. They also struggle through the issues of their own personal faith. Neither one lives in a bubble or keeps a tab of pat answers to shell out to the inmates when they ask questions.
Too often Christians live in a sterile environment. When the realities of living out the Christian life start messing up our clean environments we become uncomfortable. This is the reason that most "Christian" movies seem silly - they present a clean, sterile canvas and then proceed to paint a quiet, serene Christ. And ultimately both the canvas and the Christ end up distant and unrealistic.
In Facing the Giants the football team wins states because they all accept Christ. This is a great way to end an uplifting, feel-good movie; but it lacks all credibility as an illustration of the Christian life and every Christian viewer knew that.
A young Latino inmate asks the priest, "Where was God when my son died?" and the priest replied, "The same place He was when His son died." The conversations these two Christian workers have with the inmates hold true to the reality of life. Some days their work is vindicated and others days, not so much.
These two give great witness to the reality of God in the everyday nitty-gritty realities of life.
Monday, April 13, 2009
I'm doing research for my sermon ... as part of that I looked up statistics about people who believe that Elvis isn't really dead.
Very funny statistics. But really, some people are REALLY convinced that he's still alive. Even that he staged a comeback under a different name. It's all so funny to me.
It's all so out of the ordinary for me.
4 more weeks of winter. I leave for South Korea in 5 weeks. We made the decision to use a tourist Visa for the first few months of my stay, just to releave some pressure from the process and give me a few days of stability.
Very funny statistics. But really, some people are REALLY convinced that he's still alive. Even that he staged a comeback under a different name. It's all so funny to me.
It's all so out of the ordinary for me.
4 more weeks of winter. I leave for South Korea in 5 weeks. We made the decision to use a tourist Visa for the first few months of my stay, just to releave some pressure from the process and give me a few days of stability.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday
Our children's program focused on the story of the Good Samaritan a few weeks ago. We taught them that we need to be nice to people who are different than us. But, that's not really the point of the story. The point of the story is very different than what we taught.
The Samaritan's were the sworn enemies of Jesus' Jewish listening audience. The most highly esteemed members of the Jewish caste, the priest and the judge, refused help to one of their own. Then a member of the reviled Samaritan group passes by and unselfishly helps out.
Jesus teaches us to suprise our enemies by our radical kindness. Jesus teaches us that when we hate people we give them the upper hand. Landa Cope, who lectured at Toccoa Falls College my Sophomore year, asked, who is our Samaritan? I can't find the exact quote, but she said something to the effect of, "He's a muslim, a terrorist, a homosexual, he has AIDS, and a bomb wrapped around his chest and he's coming right at you. He's your Samaritan."
So we teach our kids to be nice to the kid who smells funny, and to help the little black boy with his homework - and those things are all nice and they're all good. But, they're not the point of the story.
The story points to the fact that we will be hated and reviled for following Christ and the we must respond boldly; but that we must respond in love.
They'll hate you - but love them anyway.
The Samaritan's were the sworn enemies of Jesus' Jewish listening audience. The most highly esteemed members of the Jewish caste, the priest and the judge, refused help to one of their own. Then a member of the reviled Samaritan group passes by and unselfishly helps out.
Jesus teaches us to suprise our enemies by our radical kindness. Jesus teaches us that when we hate people we give them the upper hand. Landa Cope, who lectured at Toccoa Falls College my Sophomore year, asked, who is our Samaritan? I can't find the exact quote, but she said something to the effect of, "He's a muslim, a terrorist, a homosexual, he has AIDS, and a bomb wrapped around his chest and he's coming right at you. He's your Samaritan."
So we teach our kids to be nice to the kid who smells funny, and to help the little black boy with his homework - and those things are all nice and they're all good. But, they're not the point of the story.
The story points to the fact that we will be hated and reviled for following Christ and the we must respond boldly; but that we must respond in love.
They'll hate you - but love them anyway.
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Friday, April 03, 2009
I realize that my blog has largeley devolved into Theological Thoughts for Thursday ONLY. I'm sorry about this. While I hope you are enjoying them, I apologize for not blogging more.
I've been really busy lately. I've been painting the inside of a house for friends from church. I clocked over 40 hours this week. It's been really good for me to work with my hands for a while.
I'm leaving for South Korea in six weeks! I almost can't believe it.
I'm in charge of Wednesday night children's ministry. I joined a few months ago to help with the drama and to be a substitute small group leader ... oops. I'm running it now.
I still have my 10 hour a week job at the Elementary school.
I'm still taking 15 hours of classes.
So I've been busy ... too busy. And I apologize.
I've been really busy lately. I've been painting the inside of a house for friends from church. I clocked over 40 hours this week. It's been really good for me to work with my hands for a while.
I'm leaving for South Korea in six weeks! I almost can't believe it.
I'm in charge of Wednesday night children's ministry. I joined a few months ago to help with the drama and to be a substitute small group leader ... oops. I'm running it now.
I still have my 10 hour a week job at the Elementary school.
I'm still taking 15 hours of classes.
So I've been busy ... too busy. And I apologize.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday
(This post was published while I was in Russia, but I didn't update often, few people read this blog while I was overseas, and I love this post. Enjoy, Michael.)
I think that people have a funny concept of missions. I think it's our fault, really. When we talk at churches we discuss the funny foods we eat, the weird places we visit, and the bizarre customs we entertain. I went to a meat market today and had my picture taken with some pigs heads. It's just the idea ... i'm in a strange place doing strange things ... I'm a missionary.
But ... people are people. People love and hate the same in every language. People fight, and kiss, and love, and fight some more ... here, there, everywhere. People cry at the same parts in the same movies, wearing the same basic clothing. People have the same urges and needs, basically the same ideals of civility, and generally the same sense of morality. We highlight the differences because they are more visible.
Fundamentally, missionaries are those who go into ministry with fresh eyes. We make the mistakes that need to be made that an insider simply can't make. We take risks that everyone already involved knows will fail ... and God shows up. We encourage people to see things with new eyes.
I've lived in Toccoa long enough to learn that Ray is a bum who rides his bike around town and tries to get people to give him money so he can buy liquor. If a missionary came to Toccoa, he or she would have fresh eyes and would be able to see past the bum ... and see a plan that God might have for Ray.
The pastors in Russia see problems, rarely solutions. Don't get me wrong ... there are many problems to see. Few churches own buildings, or if they own a building it is in the name of a pastor or congregant. The church is viewed by many as a cult. But there are so many solutions. In a town of 50,000 people, maybe 300 go to any church. That leaves 49, 700 people without a church home. As a missionary, with fresh eyes, I see solutions.
Sometimes, when I spend too much time in the church building, and not enough time in the community I have vision problems. I desire a missionary heart, but I know that Ray is a bum who will always be a bum. I have vision problems. I just pray that they are not permanent. I pray for fresh settings where I can find my renewed vision and fresh eyes.
I think that people have a funny concept of missions. I think it's our fault, really. When we talk at churches we discuss the funny foods we eat, the weird places we visit, and the bizarre customs we entertain. I went to a meat market today and had my picture taken with some pigs heads. It's just the idea ... i'm in a strange place doing strange things ... I'm a missionary.
But ... people are people. People love and hate the same in every language. People fight, and kiss, and love, and fight some more ... here, there, everywhere. People cry at the same parts in the same movies, wearing the same basic clothing. People have the same urges and needs, basically the same ideals of civility, and generally the same sense of morality. We highlight the differences because they are more visible.
Fundamentally, missionaries are those who go into ministry with fresh eyes. We make the mistakes that need to be made that an insider simply can't make. We take risks that everyone already involved knows will fail ... and God shows up. We encourage people to see things with new eyes.
I've lived in Toccoa long enough to learn that Ray is a bum who rides his bike around town and tries to get people to give him money so he can buy liquor. If a missionary came to Toccoa, he or she would have fresh eyes and would be able to see past the bum ... and see a plan that God might have for Ray.
The pastors in Russia see problems, rarely solutions. Don't get me wrong ... there are many problems to see. Few churches own buildings, or if they own a building it is in the name of a pastor or congregant. The church is viewed by many as a cult. But there are so many solutions. In a town of 50,000 people, maybe 300 go to any church. That leaves 49, 700 people without a church home. As a missionary, with fresh eyes, I see solutions.
Sometimes, when I spend too much time in the church building, and not enough time in the community I have vision problems. I desire a missionary heart, but I know that Ray is a bum who will always be a bum. I have vision problems. I just pray that they are not permanent. I pray for fresh settings where I can find my renewed vision and fresh eyes.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday
Wikipedia lists 75 "celebrities" who adhere to the teaching of Scientology. This list is paired with a similarly long list of "celebrities" who are former members of Scientology. I put the word "celebrities" into quotation marks because, while some names are universally applauded Hollywood mainstays (John Travolta, Tom Cruise, and Kirstie Alley), others have minor parts in current sitcoms or played bit parts on Broadway shows.
Since 1955, when L. Ron Hubbard, the sci-fi writer who founded Scientology, began Project Celebrity; the church has offered rewards to members who could recruit celebrities. At least this is what the Church of Wikipediology teaches. I'm a devout believer.
Scientology claims 8 million adherents worldwide, with 3.5 million of those living within the United States. However, these membership statistics lack credibility. Census reports show that only 55,000 people in America count themselves as Scientologists.
Very interesting. I'm fascinated by this religion because it is so "out there." It doesn't make any sense to me; which isn't necessarily a value statement.
The evangelical church in America is thoroughly modern - and one trapping of this sad fact is the constant presence of apologetic appeals toward the rational, logical nature of the Christian faith. I don't really think that Christianity is either rational or logical. Our faith really doesn't make much sense - just ask an outsider.
Our faith is real - it is true and holy - but that doesn't mean that it should make sense to our minds. I'm not saying that reason is the enemy of faith ... but I do think that faith should transcend reason. If every aspect of your religion makes logical sense it has lost all sense of the holy and mystical touch that separates religions from philosophies.
Christianity is quickly fading with my generation, because we don't need a new life philosophy ... we need a religion. A faith that transcends our current knowledge of the world. A master who asks us to do something that will change the world.
Since 1955, when L. Ron Hubbard, the sci-fi writer who founded Scientology, began Project Celebrity; the church has offered rewards to members who could recruit celebrities. At least this is what the Church of Wikipediology teaches. I'm a devout believer.
Scientology claims 8 million adherents worldwide, with 3.5 million of those living within the United States. However, these membership statistics lack credibility. Census reports show that only 55,000 people in America count themselves as Scientologists.
Very interesting. I'm fascinated by this religion because it is so "out there." It doesn't make any sense to me; which isn't necessarily a value statement.
The evangelical church in America is thoroughly modern - and one trapping of this sad fact is the constant presence of apologetic appeals toward the rational, logical nature of the Christian faith. I don't really think that Christianity is either rational or logical. Our faith really doesn't make much sense - just ask an outsider.
Our faith is real - it is true and holy - but that doesn't mean that it should make sense to our minds. I'm not saying that reason is the enemy of faith ... but I do think that faith should transcend reason. If every aspect of your religion makes logical sense it has lost all sense of the holy and mystical touch that separates religions from philosophies.
Christianity is quickly fading with my generation, because we don't need a new life philosophy ... we need a religion. A faith that transcends our current knowledge of the world. A master who asks us to do something that will change the world.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday
Weddings and funerals. These are the two reference points an un-churched person has for traditional worship.
Which of these two do our churches most resemble? Is our worship slow and methodic? Do we have something to celebrate? Do people look a little sad to be at church this day? Are people showing an emotional resonance to the words being spoken?
When we worship as a body we should be celebrating the resurrection of our savior.
The worship wars have focused on traditional vs. contemporary. This is wrong. The worship wars should focus on good vs. bad. Because any musical style could be used to worship God.
Every worship committee should re-evaluate every second of their worship service. Which aspects show the joy of the resurrection? Which events hide the brilliance of our joy?
Which of these two do our churches most resemble? Is our worship slow and methodic? Do we have something to celebrate? Do people look a little sad to be at church this day? Are people showing an emotional resonance to the words being spoken?
When we worship as a body we should be celebrating the resurrection of our savior.
The worship wars have focused on traditional vs. contemporary. This is wrong. The worship wars should focus on good vs. bad. Because any musical style could be used to worship God.
Every worship committee should re-evaluate every second of their worship service. Which aspects show the joy of the resurrection? Which events hide the brilliance of our joy?
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday
"Don't throw your life away on the American dream of retirement. Live dangerously for the One who loved you and died for you in his thirties." - John Piper
I don't find many parallels between the theology of John Piper and the theology of Michael Airgood. But this is one, I wholeheartedly agree that Christians must stop falling for the lie of the American dream.
I keep a box filled with pictures of friends and family, mementos of good times, quotes about the missionary life, and a prayer from the onetruth.com site. The prayer is:
"Well, God, if I live a few years on this earth and have to give up 'comfort' it's ok. And if I cant' get to always feel like I'm in charge or even that I know what I'm doing, I'm ok. And if I get persecuted for being who you call me to be, and people get downright nasty, it's ok. And if I never get to live out the "American Dream" and have an impeccable wife, and impeccable house, an impeccable minivan, and impeccable kids, I'm ok. And if I sped my whole life in weird shadows in unglamorous places and never really get recognized, it's ok. If I don't do the traditional 'ministry' and fit into a typical position, it's ok.
But God, please be with me..."
This prayer holds so much truth for my life. I know that God might not call me to a life of comfort and privilege.
I live my life in the glorious truth that God might call me to the gutters of the world and that I would go in a heartbeat. That the next apartment God has planned for me might not have a stove or a private bathroom.
That I may never have a retirement home on the lake. That God is in control.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
I just finished a missionary biography. Perhaps the most interesting part was the four pages of pictures. The first picture showed a young couple in the early fifties, Janine playfully riding on John's back. The last picture revealed an aged couple, Janine still dressed in her fifties style sweater and long wool skirt, especially appropriate for the jungles of south east Asia. I long to grow old and unfashionable.
I spent these last few days in San diego at the Russia iniative. I spoke a lot of Russian every day. I understood a joke in Russian last night. All major accomplishments.
I love the direction the united Methodist church in Russia is going. Bishop Hans Vaxby is a truly devout and humble man. At the worship service last night, after one speaker squandered 45 minutes on a historical slide presentation, Hans summarized his (no doubt eloquently prepared sermon) in one minute. After a weekend of speakers trying to quench their unsatiable lust to hear their own voices, this was a sad yet welcome decision.
The United Methodst church in Russia is in a good position. Most major metropolitan areas have at least one United Methodist church. The leadership, across all 11 time zones, is improving. Youth and young adults have a healthy perspective on their role as servant leaders- they are empowered and trusted in almost every congregation. Although Russian churches haven't grown numerically during this short, unprecedented time of falling American interest (on an economic and societal level) and increasing Russian security (on an economic and societal level), they grew in spirit and truth. Our churches are primed to handle the needs of the Russian people - stability, security, and peace - in this time, like so many in their history, when society, economy, and government cannot satisfy.
Let it be known that the need for support- prayers, presence, and gifts - has not dwindled and neither should our supply. As Russian courts uphold our right to gather in the name of Christ under the banner of the United Methodist church, physical buildings prove to be a statement of our legitamacy and committment to the long haul. We must take this brief economic opportunity to help the RUMC purchase buildings for ministry.
I spent these last few days in San diego at the Russia iniative. I spoke a lot of Russian every day. I understood a joke in Russian last night. All major accomplishments.
I love the direction the united Methodist church in Russia is going. Bishop Hans Vaxby is a truly devout and humble man. At the worship service last night, after one speaker squandered 45 minutes on a historical slide presentation, Hans summarized his (no doubt eloquently prepared sermon) in one minute. After a weekend of speakers trying to quench their unsatiable lust to hear their own voices, this was a sad yet welcome decision.
The United Methodst church in Russia is in a good position. Most major metropolitan areas have at least one United Methodist church. The leadership, across all 11 time zones, is improving. Youth and young adults have a healthy perspective on their role as servant leaders- they are empowered and trusted in almost every congregation. Although Russian churches haven't grown numerically during this short, unprecedented time of falling American interest (on an economic and societal level) and increasing Russian security (on an economic and societal level), they grew in spirit and truth. Our churches are primed to handle the needs of the Russian people - stability, security, and peace - in this time, like so many in their history, when society, economy, and government cannot satisfy.
Let it be known that the need for support- prayers, presence, and gifts - has not dwindled and neither should our supply. As Russian courts uphold our right to gather in the name of Christ under the banner of the United Methodist church, physical buildings prove to be a statement of our legitamacy and committment to the long haul. We must take this brief economic opportunity to help the RUMC purchase buildings for ministry.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday.
A new stray cat has arrived in my neighborhood. She is a long haired white cat, obviously from the street. My cat, Vassya, is none too keen on the idea of sharing feeding times with another stray.
Because that is all Vassya was when we first met, a stray. His coat was a dull gray and his eyes were vacant. He rubbed up against my legs begging for food. He was thin and sickly. The fleas were overwhelming his thinning fur. He had a large scar on his forehead from scratching through the fleas.
Vassya is a fun loving a playful cat these days. He eats well, and on cold nights he is allowed to sleep on the king sized bed with satin sheets and a down comforter. But how dare another cat try for the same privilege.
I would love Vassya no less if the other cat were welcomed in, but that makes little difference to him.
How quickly we forget the sad state we found ourselves in before we met Christ. How often we fail to share the good news we so recently discovered for ourselves. How often we judge others for the same sins we found ourselves in so recently.
Monday, March 02, 2009
So, I've done some updating to michaelairgood.blogspot.com . I've added a few pictures to prepare everyone for my departure.
I'll be updating both blogs from Korea - this blog with more of the Theological, Sociological, Political, etc thoughts that you come here to read and the other blog with more day to day occurances in Korea.
The visa process is difficult for Korea, and I won't be able to complete it until the Tuesday after graduation. They need my physical diploma to run my E2 (English teacher) Visa. I'll be coming home for a graduation party in May.
I don't have internet at my house, so that explains why posts are a little slim these last few weeks. Sorry about that.
I'm going to California with my mother on Wednesday. We are going to the Russian United Methodist convocation. I'm thrilled and sure to have a lot to post about.
I'll be updating both blogs from Korea - this blog with more of the Theological, Sociological, Political, etc thoughts that you come here to read and the other blog with more day to day occurances in Korea.
The visa process is difficult for Korea, and I won't be able to complete it until the Tuesday after graduation. They need my physical diploma to run my E2 (English teacher) Visa. I'll be coming home for a graduation party in May.
I don't have internet at my house, so that explains why posts are a little slim these last few weeks. Sorry about that.
I'm going to California with my mother on Wednesday. We are going to the Russian United Methodist convocation. I'm thrilled and sure to have a lot to post about.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday
Peter Storey, who is a prominent leader in the Methodist church in South Africa lectured with Bishop Willimon. He spoke about the struggles of the church in South Africa during apartheid and compared it to many of the struggles the church faces in America right now.
He told of Bishop Desmond Tutu, who messed with the white power structure. For in the days when apartheid was at its darkest, and there seemed to be no hope of the black South Africans ever getting a fair say, Bishop Tutu would stand up in meetings of white South Africans and say, "It's not too late to get on the winning side. Come and join the winning side now before it's too late."
Peter Storey also talked about the issue of inclusion and exclusion. Below is a (mostly) direct transcription of a few of the more salient lines.
"Human beings are born with an addiction, just like the baby of a crack addict is born addicted. Humans are born with an addiction to division. There's not one of us who is born without it. We bolster our ideas by rejecting those who are different from us. And we've tried it with every category we can possibly think of and we'll probably be very inventive in the future. We've rejected the poor, slaves, people of color, women, we've rejected based on sexual orientations; and we bring the same tired arguments every time to justify each campaign of exclusion - and if we can find some texts in the Bible so much the better. Now, fighting this addiction is a Great Power, I call it the Relentless Hospitality of the Holy Spirit. It's what the entire book of Acts is about.
"My warning to the people in the United Methodist church who get their knickers in a knot about gay people is the Holy Spirit is going to win in the end, so might as well get on the winning side now. Because every other group that has tried to kick people out in the past; blacks, women, and so on; has lost the battle against the Holy Spirit ... It's not too late to get on the winning side. Come and join the winning side now before it's too late."
This lecture was nothing short of scandalous, even for me. I come from a conservative background, attend a conservative college, and have only been part of conservative Methodist churches. For the last five or so years I've held the reputation that I am somewhat liberal.
I mildly support the ordination of gay and lesbian pastors; but always in an apologetic tone. I tend not to articulate my support, because this is such a hot-button issue. But, I can't help but agree with Peter Storey. The side of justice will win in the end, and hate and discrimination will fall away.
In the meantime, it is of utmost importance to continue dialogue and discussion. We as faithful Christians must continuously strive to see this issue from different perspectives. Debate that begins from an "us" versus "them" perspective must be quelled and true discussion must be encouraged.
There's so much to consider with this issue, so much to think about, and so very much at stake. We cannot be content to dismiss the thoughts and feelings of those we disagree with for any reason.
He told of Bishop Desmond Tutu, who messed with the white power structure. For in the days when apartheid was at its darkest, and there seemed to be no hope of the black South Africans ever getting a fair say, Bishop Tutu would stand up in meetings of white South Africans and say, "It's not too late to get on the winning side. Come and join the winning side now before it's too late."
Peter Storey also talked about the issue of inclusion and exclusion. Below is a (mostly) direct transcription of a few of the more salient lines.
"Human beings are born with an addiction, just like the baby of a crack addict is born addicted. Humans are born with an addiction to division. There's not one of us who is born without it. We bolster our ideas by rejecting those who are different from us. And we've tried it with every category we can possibly think of and we'll probably be very inventive in the future. We've rejected the poor, slaves, people of color, women, we've rejected based on sexual orientations; and we bring the same tired arguments every time to justify each campaign of exclusion - and if we can find some texts in the Bible so much the better. Now, fighting this addiction is a Great Power, I call it the Relentless Hospitality of the Holy Spirit. It's what the entire book of Acts is about.
"My warning to the people in the United Methodist church who get their knickers in a knot about gay people is the Holy Spirit is going to win in the end, so might as well get on the winning side now. Because every other group that has tried to kick people out in the past; blacks, women, and so on; has lost the battle against the Holy Spirit ... It's not too late to get on the winning side. Come and join the winning side now before it's too late."
This lecture was nothing short of scandalous, even for me. I come from a conservative background, attend a conservative college, and have only been part of conservative Methodist churches. For the last five or so years I've held the reputation that I am somewhat liberal.
I mildly support the ordination of gay and lesbian pastors; but always in an apologetic tone. I tend not to articulate my support, because this is such a hot-button issue. But, I can't help but agree with Peter Storey. The side of justice will win in the end, and hate and discrimination will fall away.
In the meantime, it is of utmost importance to continue dialogue and discussion. We as faithful Christians must continuously strive to see this issue from different perspectives. Debate that begins from an "us" versus "them" perspective must be quelled and true discussion must be encouraged.
There's so much to consider with this issue, so much to think about, and so very much at stake. We cannot be content to dismiss the thoughts and feelings of those we disagree with for any reason.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Michael Makes a Major Life Decision
This is the flag of South Korea. I have decided that starting this summer I will be teaching in South Korea as a General Board of Global Ministries Individual Volunteer.
Barring any unforseen major complication I will be leaving shortly after graduation to teach at the Wesley Mission School. The school is designed to prepare children and youth who want to become missionaries by teaching them the international languages of English and Love.
This decision appears to be the best, most practical decision I can make to ensure that I have employment after graduation; but employment without a long-term time investment so that I am free when the General Board removes its freeze on career missionary hirings. This opportunity is also the choice most in line with my philosophies of life and ministry.
I'm excited about this opportunity and hope that you'll be praying for me. I'm sure I'll have plenty to blog about!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
ANYTHING
The scripture lesson was from Isaiah; he says, “Here am I, send me.” This verse resonates with the core of my being. I prayed this verse, sang this refrain, and gave this pledge. I am a missionary. With everything I am. This morning, in Sunday school, with this scripture as backdrop; I shared with friends (of whom I love dearly) the sad news of closed doors. The feeling of shared disappointment was palpable. They were bummed for me. Accolades and empty words pushed forth against my bitter heart as one by one they tried to encourage me, to refresh my soul, to remind my mind that God has a plan.
“I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I know who holds tomorrow.”
I know that God has a plan. If I close my eyes really tight I can picture myself anywhere, anyplace in the world. I know that I am called to be a missionary. No matter how tight I close my eyes I can’t picture myself doing anything else. Oddly, I don’t even know what “missionary” means for me – what service will fill this life, what strange lands these open eyes will see – simply that “missionary” is my truth, my destiny.
Life lived on the brink of “goodbye,” selfish love and lust abated, “career” and “success” redefined ~ all in pursuit of this calling, all in response to “Here am I, send me.”
My family lived in poverty for a time when I was young. Dad was out of work and mom scraped pennies together to buy toilet paper. The stories supplant actual memories. God provided our family with five apple trees that bore more fruit that year than any other year. I only remember, from that time in my life, that one can make ANYTHING out of apples.
I’m playing the “waiting game” more than anything else.
I’m waiting for God to show me the apple trees.
“I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I know who holds tomorrow.”
I know that God has a plan. If I close my eyes really tight I can picture myself anywhere, anyplace in the world. I know that I am called to be a missionary. No matter how tight I close my eyes I can’t picture myself doing anything else. Oddly, I don’t even know what “missionary” means for me – what service will fill this life, what strange lands these open eyes will see – simply that “missionary” is my truth, my destiny.
Life lived on the brink of “goodbye,” selfish love and lust abated, “career” and “success” redefined ~ all in pursuit of this calling, all in response to “Here am I, send me.”
My family lived in poverty for a time when I was young. Dad was out of work and mom scraped pennies together to buy toilet paper. The stories supplant actual memories. God provided our family with five apple trees that bore more fruit that year than any other year. I only remember, from that time in my life, that one can make ANYTHING out of apples.
I’m playing the “waiting game” more than anything else.
I’m waiting for God to show me the apple trees.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday - On Sin, part 3.
Only the sinner can make the choice to follow God and repent of his or her sin. We are called to confront our brothers and sisters in Christ. Now, one of my biggest sins is my tongue. Which is funny, because my words are also one of the strongest gifts God has given me. James rips apart the tongue in his letter. Just recently my closest friends have begun to confront me on my words. On my innuendo, my crude jokes, my cursing, my unique ability to find the line and dance on it, and my love for the shock factor. Leaving these things behind will be a struggle for me, but looking back on the sins that Christ has overcome in my life, I know that this too shall pass.
Our friends confront us, the Holy Spirit convicts us on specific sins, the Bible shows us how to live correctly … but we must make the choice to flee from a particular sin.
It’s when these four factors come together that sin can be overcome. When we can be open and honest with those we love and those who love us we can tackle sin.
I don’t think we should make it our life’s work to focus on our sin. I don’t think this is biblical. We should focus on loving God and others and watch the rest fall into place. When God wants us to confront a sin, I believe that God will bring those four factors together in our lives to let us know what needs to change.
There is still sin in our lives, but slowly, over a lifetime of moving towards God and Jesus’ love our sin will fade. There will be more of God and less of us. I’m amazed at the sins that I used to do that are no longer present in my life, but I’ve still got a lifetime of sin to overcome. The more I love God the less room there is for sin.
All I know is that God is still doing an amazing work in my life – and I’m blessed to be a part of it.
Our friends confront us, the Holy Spirit convicts us on specific sins, the Bible shows us how to live correctly … but we must make the choice to flee from a particular sin.
It’s when these four factors come together that sin can be overcome. When we can be open and honest with those we love and those who love us we can tackle sin.
I don’t think we should make it our life’s work to focus on our sin. I don’t think this is biblical. We should focus on loving God and others and watch the rest fall into place. When God wants us to confront a sin, I believe that God will bring those four factors together in our lives to let us know what needs to change.
There is still sin in our lives, but slowly, over a lifetime of moving towards God and Jesus’ love our sin will fade. There will be more of God and less of us. I’m amazed at the sins that I used to do that are no longer present in my life, but I’ve still got a lifetime of sin to overcome. The more I love God the less room there is for sin.
All I know is that God is still doing an amazing work in my life – and I’m blessed to be a part of it.
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