Christian: What To Do About Election Day

When I was a sports official and assigned as the “crew chief” for a game, I would always tell my partners this: “After this game, a lot of folks are going to be happy, and a lot of folks are going to be unhappy. There’s nothing we can do about that, and don’t take it personally.” The reality is, there have been many games before, and there will be many games afterwards. There will always be winners and losers. 

Same with this election. There have been many elections before this one; there will be many afterwards. Regardless of what we think, this election is not “the most important election ever in the history of the United States.” That’s been said about every election. While this election may be important to you and me, it’s hubris to think that our time in history is any more important than anyone else’s.

One colleague's words, Don Sensing, former Army soldier/Pentagon staff and now UM minister, saved me a lot of re-reading the Federalist Papers to summarize how many of the Founding Fathers felt about the governing of the new nation and today' predicament:

The present election has inflamed passions throughout the country, including to the violence that the Founders warned us. Neither candidate has made much in the campaigns of their religious convictions. It is just as well. America's Founders trusted neither religion nor its lack as a qualification of a candidate. While we may hope and pray that our national leaders will be guided by the highest ideals of moral and religious convictions, our nation’s founders warned us not to count on it, either for office seekers, office holders or voters. We must seek another source of unity for our nation, not to supplant morality and religion but to complement them. - from the Sensing Online blog: "Election and Unity - a reflection on this Tuesday."

 

That helps answer the question, "What's a Christian to do?" regarding this election. Going to one’s faith is not a universal guide nor always helpful to how one should vote or who should win this election. Southern Baptist leader Al Mohler, a conservative, has changed his mind from the last election and has found a moral way to support the re-election of our president (you can read what he says here). John Piper, Calvinist/Baptist pastor and teacher  – also a conservative - states that he cannot in good conscience vote for either candidate and makes a moral case for his decision (read his article here). More progressive religious leaders like Jim Wallis have painfully articulated the problem that he sees with choosing the Left or the Right in politics when viewed through theological eyes: despite who the president has been, (a) family breakdown is occurring across all class and racial lines, and (b) public education remains a disaster for millions of families. Moreover, for the progressive party-line platform, a consistent ethic of life (Wallis' words) means that if you are against capital punishment on the grounds of it being a premeditated murder, that means you must reconsider the party-line stance on abortion as well. It also means that both "sides" must take poverty more seriously than they do, as poverty encourages a culture of death. (Wallis, from God's Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn't Get It [2005])

My advice in this election is to exercise your right to vote or not vote, and if you do vote try to vote for the candidates that closely match your personal political platform as possible. If you can’t in good conscience vote for either choice, write one in or leave it blank. The perfect candidate doesn’t exist – and never will.

 

Nevada, 2016 Election

Interesting statistic: the practice of leaving a ballot choice blank (sometimes called a “protest vote” or “undervote”) has increased in the past two elections. In 2012, around 0.97% of those voting left their presidential vote blank. In 2016, that figure rose to 1.4%. Getting a ballot and not voting for one or more offices is (a) legal, and (b) still exercising your right to vote. In Nevada, you have the option of choosing “None of the above.” In 2016, NOTA received 28,863 votes… which was 2.56% of the vote, and more than the margin of victory which was 27,202 votes. 

Here’s what’s clearly not acceptable or desirable for Christians: if your candidate wins, don’t gloat. If your candidate loses, don’t despair (I'll resist posting scriptural verses about such). The sun will come up tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. Some days it’s sunny. Some days it rains. Remember that it rains on the just and unjust.

 

As my friend Allan Bevere wrote a few years ago: if you read Romans 12 AND 13 in context, we pray for our leaders that they might be godly people, and then - pretty much - we pray that they might leave us Christians alone to do our work: to sacrifice, to not allow ourselves to be transformed by the world, and to please God. Let Caesar, the President, and whoever’s Prime Minister be about their work, but know as Christians that love fulfills the law and does no harm to a neighbor. We put on the robe of Jesus the Christ. That’s our task; not to be about a political party’s business, but to be about the Lord’s business.

Good friends, family, and Christians will disagree about politics, and/or find frustration with politics. After the election: don't gloat, don't despair, and don't let this become a deal-breaker where family, friends, and fellow citizens are concerned. Vote with conviction. Win or lose with graciousness - but be sure your convictions and struggles are stronger with the Faith than your patriotism. Where your treasure is, is where you will find your heart.

Sky+

The Biggest Shift for United Methodism

The lobbying, posturing, passionate speeches, and theological/doctrinal infighting for the past fifty years in the United Methodist Church regarding sexuality and a few other issues may have all been in vain, and may end for the same reason that World War I ended: a virus.

It’s one of those “I missed that in history class” historical facts, but the 1918 flu pandemic had a major effect on the how and when of the end of World War I. Soldiers were sick. People couldn’t get to work. Major infrastructure collapse was occurring in many countries. Some historians note that the Treaty of Versailles was rushed through: the American delegation was opposed to German reparations, but the delegation (including President Wilson) was mostly disabled by the flu when negotiations were taking place, so some things were done hastily while other things were not done at all. In short: the war was called (as the insurance companies say) on account of “an act of God.” 

 

We are seeing a repeat of that in the present. While thankfully less lethal than the 1918 Flu, COVID-19 is changing the landscape of everything… including the United Methodist Church. 

 

I’m not a futurist, but I believe that the present pandemic is speeding up what we already knew to be true about denominational/connectional churches: denominations and communions mean less and less to people, and the local church means more and more. Part of this was the reality that most discipleship and mission has always happened at the local church level. But now we are living into a reality few of us “die hard” United Methodists wanted to acknowledge: for 95% of the people who are called United Methodists and sit in the pews, what goes on in the district, annual conference, General Conference, General Agencies, etc… affects very, very little of their lives. It may mean a lot to the clergy and “professional laity," but when compared to the general membership of the UMC, these are less than a thimbleful of the people called United Methodists. 

 

The effect of district, conference, and General Conference activity on local churches is going to make even less of an impact than it ever has before. World travel, with its quarantines, self-isolation requirements, and country-to-country prohibitions and more-stringent visa requirements, all make having a General Conference very unlikely until a vaccine is available. Given the present American environment regarding increased reticence to even TAKING a vaccine if/when it is developed, how many countries are going to even be open to coming to the U.S., much less having US come visit their countries? I am fairly sure General Conference 2021 will not meet, and I don’t know when in the near future another world-wide gathering can and will take place.

 

Another reality is finances: we were warned at General Conference 2004 by Sandra Lackore, who was the then-treasurer of the General Conference Finance & Administration: “We have a structure that we can no longer afford.” Where the Episcopal Fund was concerned, every jurisdiction was advised to cut one Episcopal Area. No one did. Few general agencies made changes. Annual Conferences had to begin to cut campus ministry and camping ministries. In the years since, most conferences have decreased the numbers of districts and staff. Unlike the U.S. government, the UMC cannot print money. Our own annual conference has drastically cut its budget. Right now, the power, influence, and opportunities for Christianity are going to come primarily from a local church, not a district, conference, or General Conference.

 

All of this sounds tragic… until you look at things objectively and realize: the local church is moving ahead. We still have church every Sunday, whether in-person or online. We are financially in the black. During the pandemic, we’ve actually had people JOIN the church. We’re moving forward in this crazy season, seizing new opportunities and ministries.

 

Our present conflict may end with a whimper instead of a bang.

 

While I still believe Methodists are a connectional church and a connectional people, our “connection” is different in this pandemic season. And, being more local than ever before, we will look more at our local context in how we do ministry and mission. Just as there is truth in the phrase, “All politics is local,” there is also truth in the phrase, “all ministry is local.” To be sure, the world IS our parish, but it starts in our local church and branches out. Disciples are made in local churches, not districts or conferences. We can do MORE as a larger body, but we START in a local church. 

 

What I think this means for the future is this: If I was a person in the pew, I would base more of my understanding, witness, discipleship, and sense of belonging in a local church rather than any annual conference or general conference. We live in a world with more options, opinions, and permutations than ever before, and no two local churches are alike. If we are “waiting to see” what our annual conference or the General Conference is going to do where doctrine and matters of sexuality are concerned, we may be in for a long wait: none of us know how long we will be affected by the pandemic, and all of the issues that confront us as a denomination are not going to be solved by a mass ZOOM conference call in the Spring. I am fairly certain that our denomination will not be in a place to meet and make such decisions in the next four years. 

 

God can use anything – even a pandemic – to speak a word to His people. His word in this season may be one that we don’t want to hear, but nonetheless can’t argue with: wait. For sure, this season is (re)teaching us:

•          God has sovereign control over things. Our control is at best an illusion.

•          The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. We are not our own.

•          We are utterly dependent on God – and God will not be rushed.

•          The psalmists and prophets made it clear: sometimes, God slows us down to patience and silence so that we might listen.

•          We wait for our salvation – it doesn’t come on our demand.

 

“They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles.” – Isaiah 40:31

Some will say, "We've waited too long." Unfortunately, God may be reminding us, "You don't know what a long time is."

Pax,

Sky+

Time for a Hard Reset Regarding Ordination

What I write is nothing new for the 3-4 folks who read what I write. But today it’s been ramped up a notch as being a class and justice issue. 

 

United Methodist’s theology of ordination and practice of credentialing - quite frankly – sucks.

 

I’m not talking about conference or district boards of ministry. I’m not talking about seminaries. I’m talking about our polity, which lacking a THEOLOGY of ordination, is all we have to go by as United Methodists. It’s not biblical, it’s not historical, and the only tradition it follows is one that we’ve largely made up in the 20^thcentury.

 

A quick history/theology lesson about ordination: until very recently, the Western notion that ordination is something you EARNED is simply heresy. Ordination is a charism, that is, a gift from God to the Church, given by the Holy Spirit to the community of faith. In a Wesleyan ethos, ordination is neither an ontological nor functional change to the one ordained, but a pneumatological empowering of an individual. It may be for life, or it may be for a season. But to be sure, it is not EARNED or DESERVED by academic attainment or by hoop-jumping a checklist from church law. Ordination is bestowed by the community of faith.

 

Before we made academia the final arbiter of learning, the apprentice-in-action model served Christianity. Not seen as diametrically opposed to the academy, the apprentice model often paralleled the academy, or made use of the local academy for preparing clergy for parish work. It also served the professions of law and medicine as well. Even today, there are states in the U.S. (California, Vermont, Washington, and Virginia) where a law degree (or even a bachelor degree) is not required to take the bar exam; one can undergo a four-year apprenticeship with an approved attorney.

 

So the fact that “it’s always been this way” is fiction, not fact. The Rev. Homer Johns, my pastor during my elementary school years, came to our church after being a district superintendent for six years. He lead the start of the first thrift store in our city. He served on the Board of Ministry in retirement, and my toughest doctrine question came from Homer, who grilled me at length about infant baptism and baptismal regeneration. Homer didn’t have an M.Div. He had gone to course of study.

 

As late as the 1950’s, this was a model that the former Methodist Church used. It wasn’t until the 1956 Book of Discipline that a bachelor of divinity degree (now called a master of divinity) became the standard for someone to be admitted “on trial” and later ordained as a traveling elder. As Randy Maddox of Duke elaborated at a mid-quadrennial training for Boards of Ministry in 2014: “This growing professionalization was linked to escalated class status, and fit prudential realities of majority of Methodist congregations at the time.”

 

The unintended consequences of such are beginning to be realized in this liminal time for American Christianity. 

 

1.     We’ve created a “class/caste” system of clergy in United Methodism. There are 26 different classifications for clergy in United Methodism. Scripture gives us two (deacon and bishop/presbyter) or three (if you separate bishop and presbyter). We UM’s “license” people to serve the sacraments, but only let those “vote” at annual conference who have been ordained (think about that one for a minute – better yet, try to explain it to someone NOT United Methodist). Clergy membership and ordination are technically separate, but it reality they are not. 

2.     Even when factoring in inflation and average household incomes, a seminary education costs an individual 2.5 times more than it did 30 years ago. The only way someone can reach the minimal standard for being ordained today is (1) be independently wealthy, (2) have affluent parents or a rich uncle/aunt, or (3) be in debt for 20+ years. If you’re second career or older, you have even more obstacles in front of you. This is reprehensible behavior for the Church, and I won’t even go into the class implications of such a policy and polity.

3.     We have an elitist-within-an-elitist mentality when it comes to education. A master of divinity degree isn’t enough (even from an ATS accredited school); it has to be from a United Methodist Senate APPROVED seminary. If you don’t have one of those, you will be getting ANOTHER master of divinity degree.

4.     Unlike our AME, CME, and AME Zion friends, we did not retain the “local elder” category for clergy. We now call them “licensed local pastors.” There is absolutely no theological basis for this. It’s purely bureaucratic. Ordination has become way too closely tied to itinerancy and not the mission of the Church: to make disciples of Jesus Christ to transform the world. Transforming our method of credentialing clergy would be a good start. Ordination doesn’t (and shouldn’t) equal insurance and benefits.

 

This liminal season (literally, “threshold season”) is going to require us to be more adaptive than any we have faced in the last 100 years. Church attendance and practices are not going to return “to normal” anytime soon, and our requirements for ordination are going to assure us of few clergy for the next generation. I will quote Dr. Maddox again: In most of our settings, it is not economically or culturally prudential to rely on or require leadership in ministry that carries the expenses involved in Master’s-level education. That doesn’t mean we ditch the academy. It DOES mean we rethink how we educate, apprentice, and disciple present and future pastors. This means, at the very least:

 

1. We broaden the range of persons that we ordain for ministry. 
2. We adapt greater flexibility in educational expectations for ordination. Context matters! 
3. We separate ordination from conference membership.
4. We have a greater openness to bi-vocational, second career, and other models of clergy leadership. 

 

Conference boards of ministry need much more latitude in making these decisions on a case-by-case basis, instead of a national standard that assumes one-size-fits-all, which it clearly doesn’t.

 

And… we better hurry. We are going to quickly find (1) we have a church polity we can no longer afford, and (2) standards for clergy which may find us in a place with no future clergy.

 

Few of us like change. But I suspect none of us will want the pain that’s coming when we have to endure the consequences of staying the same.

 

Lamentation

Every generation has its crisis(es) moment(s). Throughout history, people have lamented that “it’s never been as bad as this.” I found an article that a Robert Wilson wrote in his column, “From Bob's Cluttered Desk,” that reminded me that, at times, it’s actually been worse. Consider these very Amero-centric crises (with a few of my own thrown in):

·      Our country was partially founded upon the near-genocide of one race and the enslavement of another.

·      The Constitutional Convention of 1787 was actually a coup, in that it developed documents and systems that completely threw out an existing but failing government structure.

·      In 1804, a sitting Vice-President of the United States shot and killed the nation's first Treasury Secretary. (To put that in modern day terms: it would be as if Vice-President Mike Pence shot Bush-era Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson.)

·      More than 1,264,000 Americans have died fighting wars. The Civil War (1861-65) accounts for over 620,000 of those lives. 

·      The Depression.

·      Measles.

·      Smallpox.

·      Polio.

·      Two World Wars.

·      Vietnam.

·      JFK's assassination.

·      MLK's assassination.

·      Bobby Kennedy's assassination.

·      9/11.

It does not diminish the pain we are going through now:

·      Church and societal polarization over sexuality

·      The Pandemic of COVID-19

·      Watching a trusted police officer put his knee on a man’s neck until he died

·      Political and ideological tribalism being placed above kinship and friendship

When people hurt, their emotions become involved. When our emotions become involved, we lash out: sometimes with righteous indignation, other times with angst and fear.  We lament. Before you say that’s a foreign concept for us Jews or Christians, consider:

Psalm 137

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept

    when we remembered Zion.

There on the poplars

    we hung our harps,

for there our captors asked us for songs,

    our tormentors demanded songs of joy;

    they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

How can we sing the songs of the Lord

    while in a foreign land?

If I forget you, Jerusalem,

    may my right hand forget its skill.

May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth

    if I do not remember you,

if I do not consider Jerusalem

    my highest joy.

Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did

    on the day Jerusalem fell.

“Tear it down,” they cried,

    “tear it down to its foundations!”

Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,

    happy is the one who repays you

    according to what you have done to us.

Happy is the one who seizes your infants

    and dashes them against the rocks.

Now, your grandmother may have said, “Don’t be wishing hateful things on others,” but the psalmist certainly didn’t have any trouble doing it: he prayed revenge on the Babylonians, that someone might take their babies and kill them all. The psalmist wasn’t just pissed off, the psalmist was morally outraged: Jerusalem had been destroyed. They had been exiled. They lamented. 

Moral outrage isn’t new; abolitionist Frederick Douglas even wrote a speech based on Psalm 137 entitled, "What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?" making the point that it was similar to asking the Jews “to sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land,” thus humiliating them and adding insult to injury. He lamented.

We are living in difficult times. But we have been here before. The only thing unique about it is that it’s happening to us, in our time. We lament.

My denomination was set to split at General Conference 2020, except that it didn’t because the COVID-19 pandemic came upon the world. So our angst was delayed. The pandemic meant that we could not (safely) be about our business as usual, we could not (safely) worship, so we have been forced to be creative… yet feel stifled… about how we live, work, and worship. So more angst piled upon angst delayed. Worse, during all of this we as a nation witnessed a terrible act of aggression and racism, causing more (and justified) angst. It’s even difficult to know how to react or demonstrate, as ethical questions we have never been faced with now confront us: is it ok to risk endangering the lives of others during a pandemic to demonstrate against racism? What an unholy and difficult decision for some.

Our angst keeps on piling up. After a while it is easy to pray, think, and say anything about each other, whether we know the truth or not, whether it is righteous or not. We’ll say it on social media. We’ll text or email others. We’ll say in front of some and behind the backs of others. That’s how we lament. It’s not right, but we all do it.

A year ago, I honestly thought that the local church I serve was going to be split along the lines of our denominational struggle with sexuality. I wondered how to pastor a very diverse, non-homogenous church through that struggle, knowing that I was sent here to pastor all of the church and not just some of it. That struggle was soon yesterday's news as we began a new struggle about how many worship services to have and what one – or two – services should look like where music and style are concerned. That struggle became moot when the pandemic forced us to worship online, and now our future struggle will be - at least for several months or years - how MANY worship services will it take for all of us to (safely) worship in place? Since I’m not a doctor, I have to trust those who are for guidance. 

Frustration. Angst. Lament.

Now the struggle has shifted to “where are we in the midst of this terrible time in our country and where are our pastors?” Over the weekend, the struggles have been:

·      Is our church organizing a march? (The answer was/is no, but several in our church invited others to join them in previously planned marches and demonstrations – which is ok). 

·      Why can people gather to demonstrate but we can’t worship together? (Doing either in a pandemic is risky behavior. We’re supposed to stand up for the oppressed. We’re also supposed to protect each other’s health. I don’t know a good answer to this one.)

·      Why aren’t our pastors at demonstrations? (They’ve been at some, but not all.)

·      Why are our pastors at demonstrations? (They haven’t been to all of them, but they went to stand with those who are hurting and wanting justice for all.)

·      Why do we have any racial demonstrations at all, we are all one in Christ? (Good point, I wish we could actually act as one in Christ).

·      By the way, what are we doing about the homeless and needy? Are we turning people away? (The answer is no). Are we enabling poor behavior and making it hard by not cooperating with our other Downtown agencies? (The answer is also, no. We work closely with other agencies and have each other’s backs).

These are real issues. They are real painful issues. As Eddie and I talk about these things we realize that it is difficult to balance the scriptures that tell us “do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others,” with “What good is it if someone says they have faith but do not have works?” All of us wrestle with what is the right thing to do. Being a Downtown church is messy. Being the body of Christ amidst those from diverse backgrounds is messier, still. We lament.

Politics and taking political sides will not fix this. It is good to know what you believe, but Jesus was clear that Caesar is not our Master. God does not make cookie-cutter disciples and Christians, as our differences from each other are our gifts to each other. For every Peter there is a Paul. For every Martha there is a Mary. We need to celebrate that, not lament.

Determining the number of worship services will not fix this. A vaccine will not fix this. Splitting a denomination will not fix this. A new president or re-election of a president will not fix this. The only thing that can “fix” what ails us is the grace, peace, and love of Jesus Christ. We are still not practicing this as well as we could – hence our angst. Our only healing will come by practicing the faith.

To be clear: racism is wrong. It always has been. It always will be. God will not condone us mistreating, much less killing, a child of God made in God’s image. Our history in the United States, even in the Church, even in the Methodist Church – is tainted with the stain of racism. Have I done racist things? Yes - sometimes aware, sometimes unaware. Do I consider myself a racist today? No. Is that good enough? No. I have to move beyond just not being a racist; I have to become an anti-racist. Christ demands no less than that. We are neither male or female, we are neither black or white, but we are one in Christ Jesus. The Scriptures are clear. Long before the Pledge of Allegiance, our faith demands that we live with liberty and justice for all. It is past time that we live out both our baptismal vows and our Pledge of Allegiance.

Striving to be that, anything else we fuss or complain about ought to pale by comparison. If someone wants to march, pray for them as they make a public witness. If someone chooses not to march, assume not the worst but the best - that they may be praying and acting in secret as our Father rewards in secret. If we are doing neither, may God have mercy on our souls for our inaction.

Brothers and sisters: life is short. Be swift to love, and make haste to be kind.

Sky+

When… and How… to Resume Church Services

A worshiper at Westminster Cathedral. (ANSA)

Note: This is a transcript of a video recorded yesterday on our church website.

Hello, my name is Sky McCracken, and I am the senior pastor of First Methodist Downtown Jackson. I know that the question of when and how to resume church services is on your minds. 

Before making major decisions about our church, I like to surround myself with others around me. Bishop Bill McAlilly often says, “The wisdom in us (the collective us) is greater than the wisdom in any one of us.” So when making a determination about when to return to in-person worship, I think it’s important to surround myself with people with medical training, epidemiology, cleaning and mitigating methods, and people who think logistically. I don’t have any training or expertise in any of those matters. My bachelor degree was in psychology and criminal justice. My graduate studies ended with a master of divinity degree. Neither of those areas of study qualify me to make a major decision in the midst of a pandemic without first consulting those who ARE qualified. 

Our church has had two groups working on this issue: a “When” group made up of medical professionals, former company managers, teachers, and an attorney; and a “How” group including a wide assortment of backgrounds from medical to professional cleaning. 

I can’t begin to tell you how blessed our church is with persons of various and diverse gifts who are helping us with this decision. Your safety, and our doing no harm, is our guiding principle in our decision-making process.

It is also helpful for you to know who and what I am not consulting:

·   Political leaders. I have respect for our president, our governor, and our city and county mayors. They are doing their jobs as I would expect them to. However, they do not and cannot speak for the Church, nor can our government “order” a church to close, open, or meet. They can certainly urge and suggesthow to do these things, and they have.

·   Peer Pressure. “But so-and-so church is going to meet. Why can’t we?” Or “Why can Walmart be open but we can’t have church services?” Most of us can remember our parents’ response when we asked such questions as a child. Our contexts vary in various ways. There is no one-answer-fits-all answer. 

I know there is also the frustration of not being able to worship in our usual manner. A seminary classmate of mine at one of our larger UM Churches sent me a text this morning:

Feedback is coming in from churches who have reopened with massive COVID guidelines in place. Pews have been pulled. Greetings are gone. Social distancing. No singing. Masks. Many people HATE it. They are saying, ‘This isn't the church I remember.’ This supports my conviction that we delay live worship until most restrictions are lifted.

All of these are things make these decisions all the more difficult. Those are valid feelings and frustrations.

For certain, we will not be driven by fear or guilt. Nor will we question how other sister churches arrive at the decision they make for opening or not opening for in-person worship. We will take all of the information we know, apply it to our local setting, and pray that we make an informed decision that is good for body and soul. This is not a competition. We are going to do the best that we can, and be as faithful as we can.

I share all of this with you because I know the CDC just released (today) this study: High COVID-19 Attack Rate Among Attendees at Events at a Church — Arkansas, March 2020. That will be an important resource in our decision on WHEN and HOW to open for in-person worship.

So I’m saying all this to you just so you’ll know how our decision making process is going, and how we will make our decision: carefully, thoroughly, and with prayer. While several of us will pray and discern when that time will be, I know that as the senior pastor and administrative officer of our local church, I will assume the responsibility of our actions. So I covet your prayers as we continue to wrestle with the obstacles in our path, and how we might convert those obstacles to opportunities as we serve our risen Lord. 

May God bless you and keep you, and may God hold you in the palm of His hand.


Reopening Update 5-20-2020 from First Methodist Downtown Jackson on Vimeo.

Those Pesky People In the Pews, or, Facts Are Inconvenient Things

This blog builds upon a former blog, “The Problem of Labels, Assumptions, and the Economy of the Whole,” which can be found by clicking here.

As a former United Methodist General Conference delegate and politician (now retired by choice), it has been interesting to watch what has happened post GC2019 and the present attempts to reach a better end to GC2020. Some new plans have come to fruition (though some of them are similar to older plans using different names and nuance). 

A new delineation in labels and “sides” is attempting to make this a binary issue so that we can have things neat and binary for the sake of arguments. It is, after all, the American way: people are trying to frame the UMC into the two sides of “traditional” and “centrist/progressive.” Such is getting traction among those who will be in the ring of General Conference 2020.

There’s one flaw in this: such only defines a very, very small percentage of United Methodists. Nearly all these frenzied discussions are among clergy or laity holding significant leadership positions. 

What about the 10+ million people who sit in pews across the world? Are we so sure that they fit into this neatly-assigned polarity of “traditional” and “centrist/progressive?” My hunch is, there is a huge disconnect between (a) delegates, leadership of interest groups, and clergy, and (b) the people in the pews. The fact is, there isn’t any factual information supporting such a binary reality in the pews at all. 

My somewhat-informed observations reveal at least this much:

• There are always extremes, but most UM Christians believe Jesus is the Christ, and believe in a historical and literal crucifixion and resurrection… even those who embrace the full inclusion of LGBTQ+ folks. This confounds the traditionalists… and the progressives.
• Most of American United Methodists live in “red” states, as do most Americans. That is something traditionalists usually celebrate… until they dig a little deeper and realize that partisan politics and church politics don’t always jibe… especially in areas of sexuality. Extreme progressives sometimes to fail to acknowledge that most UMC’s are located in red states and areas.
• Traditionalists have divorcees among their ranks – which represents a conundrum to those using strict interpretations of the New Testament on traditional marriage and who is eligible for church leadership. Also, other than on LGBTQ+ issues, many folks would be considered “traditionalist” in belief and practice. Some progressives have not reconciled LGBTQ+ full inclusion with their faith. These folks are often ostracized by their “constituencies,” but they are more numerous than either “side” likes to admit.
• There are LGBTQ+ folks that vote Republican. They also hold to traditional church doctrines and traditions. That drives traditionalists and progressives alike absolutely nuts. 

One layperson came to me concerned about “voting” as a congregation: “If we begin a list of bullet points that we are going to start voting upon, we’re not going to have much of a congregation left.” I agreed.

I wonder how our traditional and centrist-progressive camps at General Conference, along with our special interest groups, are going to deal with the larger majority of United Methodists who don’t find themselves represented by either camp?

The “middle” is bigger, wider, and deeper than most think. If a new narrative doesn't replace the present one that has us in our present gridlock, we are doomed to make the same mistakes.. which will lead to continued split after split after split, and continued decline.

The opposite of faith isn’t doubt; the opposite of faith is certainty. Our American way of aligning by partisanship and a false sense of certainty isn’t going to help us that much in a Christian faith that has at its heart a mystery. 

Sky+

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