The Problem of Labels, Assumptions, and the Economy of the Whole

Last week I changed my Facebook cover photo to display the phrase, “When you label me, you negate me,” (a quote attributed to Kierkegaard, which can be vaguely supported). Like all grand sweeping generalizations, it can be problematic. As one friend of mine pointed out, who basically agreed, yet also pointed out: “I can also say that there are times of grappling with identity that labels can be very helpful. Christian, gay, Irish, engineer... these are all words that help ground who I am.”

So while labels can be helpful, they can also be problematic in that they are often more diversionary than descriptive. I fear that in this day and age, especially in the American Church, they are diversionary and divisive. We have learned this well from American politics. Monkey see, monkey do; sad, but often true.

From those of us in the United Methodist sphere of Christianity, we have increased the tension in the air to a more-than-palpable state. We now have ever-changing labels of how someone, some church, some conference, or some slate of delegates are labeled. “WCA” or “UMCNext” seem to be the latest labels, and the election of lay and clergy delegates to General Conference are seeing the respective camps getting ready for battle. 

In the midst this, some have proclaimed (thru proclamation and rhetoric) the death of centrists or those who reside in the middle ground. I have noticed, however, that such was proclaimed without consulting those who find their grounding in the middle. While what follows is an unscientific observation, I believe it to be an accurate one: the UMC is not a neatly divided denomination into theological and ideological extremes. We more resemble the facets on a cut gemstone than anything else: the facets are not all the same size, and some are cut at different angles than others.

So when we look at who is elected to General Conference, it is quite possible that General Conference does not reflect the faceted nature of the denomination, just small (but vocal) parts of it. 

The latest complete figures show that there are 12,600,000-some lay members in the UMC in the world (around 45% from Africa, Asia, and Europe). There are 54,400-some clergy members in the world. Yet, there are an equal number of clergy and lay delegates to General Conference: 850. 425 will be clergy, and 425 will be laity. Some note that seems to be a huge disparity in representation. Mathematically at least, it is.

Before we beat up on clergy too much, consider who the pool of laity are who attend annual conference as delegates. They must have flexibility of lifestyle to be able to attend an annual conference, where plenary sessions are always held during daytime hours, and often meet during the week rather than the weekend. How many of our laity are able to attend such? And if they are able to come to Annual Conference, could they offer themselves to election to General Conference, take the time off from their jobs to study and pray over all of the proposed legislation, attend listening and planning sessions, and then take the two weeks off from work to attend the following May? (I won’t add the out of pocket costs to travel, lodge, eat, clean clothes, because I can tell you: your per diem won’t cover it)

So a valid question is: do those elected to General Conference truly represent the whole of our denomination, or just a few privileged facets of it? To be sure, those who go to General Conference have a huge responsibility delegated to them, and I pray for them every day. The question is: are such folks representative of the totality our denomination?

My hunch is, no. It looks good on paper, and sounds good to those of us who grew up in democratic processes, but the reality is that we have an elite class of people who go to General Conference, and I admit to having been one of them (I chose not to offer myself for election this year) – very similar to who and how we elect house and senate members to Congress. Those clergy who are elected have the benefit of an advanced education (ordained elders only) and those laity elected have the luxury and privilege of a flexible schedule and sufficient funds. Many, many United Methodists will never be given an opportunity to share their life experiences, faith, and make such binding decisions for their denomination, either at their own annual conferences or at General Conference.

So when someone makes the claim that there are no centrists or “people in the middle,” I would accuse them of an extremely myopic view of their denomination. While the current issue at hand is sexuality and identity, there are hosts of other issues that could rise to similar ire given the right circumstances. The WCA makes the Nicene Creed a central part of their belief statement, yet I could quickly find 100 conservative, rural churches that would take issue with several parts of the Nicene Creed, including “one baptism for the forgiveness of sins,” believing in a “catholic church,” and that little phrase “who proceeds from the Father and the Son” that ended up splitting Christianity over a thousand years ago. 

Historically and theologically, it makes very little sense for Methodists to try to be “super orthodox” and homogenous for this simple reason: we started out as an illegitimate child. Our own founder never converted to become a Methodist himself, and without any authority Wesley ordained its first pastors. He also “licensed” women to preach (scandalous!). Wesley intended to start a movement that was directed 180° from the Anglican Church of its day. Today, we find that we’ve made a full 360° and in many ways are right back where we started.

The “draw” for many Methodists has been that while there is a foundational framework to build upon, there is also the allowance of the Spirit to blow a fresh wind through us that brings us both the ancient faith as well as the gift of growth and expansion of our minds, hearts, and faith to do a new thing, moving us to use new wineskins for the new wine being gifted to us.

As I attended the last annual conference, I was overcome with sadness – and it’s quite possible I’m suffering from some PTSD from the last three General Conferences. It is a borrowed phrase, but I believe it to be true: I do my best to carry grief in one hand and gratitude in the other, as I know it stretches me to places I need to be. But during these last three to four years, the bucket of grief is way, way heavy as I watch dear friends at odds with each other, sometimes in less-than-loving ways. I fight being angry at those organizations and leaders that seem to have fueled the fire and manipulated us into such divisions that make us emulate our American politics and give such a poor witness to the world about discipleship and the Church. Our trust of each other is at an all-time low. 

I would beg us not to be defined by labels, theological bent, or ideologies. We are not called to make others in our own image, but to reflect the image of God. I know that when I was ordained, I was not called or asked to transform the congregations I was appointed to into my image. I was called to meet them where they are at, pastor and shepherd them, teach, and embrace their gifts that God gave them. There are many facets to those in our congregations, and they do not neatly fit into one mold – nor should they. As children of God, they reflect the diversity of the gifts that they have been given. That should be embraced, not forsaken. 

Our throw-away society has made it too easy to make relationships casual, which makes it easy to say, “I’m done with so-and-so.” One person at General Conference said that “some divorces are good.” I can’t agree with that. There's nothing good about divorce. It's painful.

Instead of shaking hands and saying goodbye, we should be embracing and saying, “See you tomorrow.” We are all blood-kin, by the blood of Jesus Christ. It may be our differences from each other are our gifts to each other. Our congregations are not as monolithic as we think: if we allow ourselves to continue this binary thinking, we will dismiss a LOT of United Methodists. We often forget that for many, Methodism is the meeting place for many who cannot abide the extremes of Roman Catholic and Fundamentalist dogma.

The extremes may realize that they made a huge mistake in dismissing the middle. Despite what some may say, there is a LOT of middle left. They may not say much, but my hunch is that they aren't going anywhere, either. We are not the “either/or” people some would like us to be.

Sky+

One Sentence Can Split a Church, If You Let It

I said the above words in a sermon several Sundays ago, referring to a sentence in the Nicene Creed. I guess I should have gone into more detail, as several folks have called/texted/emailed me, "Well... what sentence were you talking about?"

We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life,

who proceeds from the Father and the Son...

Basically (and this is VERY basic; you can read books, dissertations, catechisms, and the like if you want to know more), it can be illustrated thus:

That one sentence split the largest part of Christianity in half. The timeline of it all:

321 - Nicene Creed affirmed by the Council of Nicea without the Filioque Clause
382 - Creed was expanded by the Council of Constantinople without the Filioque Clause being added
451 - Creed was confirmed by the Council of Chalcedon without the Filioque.
589 - Filioque Clause was added to the Creed by the Council of Toledo (not an ecumenical council)
680 - The Filioque Clause was added to the Creed by the Council of Hatfield (not an ecumenical 
          council)
1014 - The Filioque Clause is added to the Creed in Rome on the coronation of Henry II (German) as 
           Holy Roman Emperor.
1054 - BOOM! The Great Schism of the West and East

Now, is this important? From a theological point, yes. And you can find scriptures to back both the Eastern stand and the Western stand. But is it a deal breaker? If we get it right or get it wrong, will it really make that much difference? I liked what commentator Bill Muhlenburg said:

[M]any Christians may find all this going over their heads, and/or see it as all rather unnecessary. The truth is, theology matters, and sometimes the complex truths of God and about God need to be hammered out as best we can. And at times disagreements will arise.

The matters here are very significant indeed, yet nonetheless one can differ on these matters, or even choose to concentrate on other matters. Thus one’s salvation is not directly impacted on which way we run with this issue.

In addition, I would add these as not directly impacting one's salvation (and these are more particular to United Methodists Christians), but can certainly run to the level of schism in some people's minds:

1. Believing the "right" Theory of Atonement (there is no official Methodist stance)
2. Real Presence at the Eucharist (the official United Methodist stance is yes, there is)
3. Rebaptism (the official United Methodist stance is, no, we should not)
4. Women being ordained. 
5. Ordaining licensed local pastors (the official UM stance is that we don't, but we used to)
6. Divorce. The New Testament certainly seems against it, especially if you hold a church office. But we United Methodists fully accept divorced people into the life and any role of the Church. We UM pastors often marry Catholic, Baptist, and Church of Christ folks who can't get married in their own church. 
7. Being gay and fully accepting gay people.

1. Theories of Atonement are just that: theories. Atonement theories can be derived from scripture, but you won't find any one of them explicitly outlined. My hunch is that Atonement is a mixture of all these things, and a mystery.

2. Real Presence. I'm not a Thomist or an Aristotelian, so explaining transubstantiation to someone else is difficult when I have my own problems grasping these schools of thoughts to begin with. I've always leaned with the Eastern church and Anglican Church that did not accept the notion of "transubstantiation" or the notions of "substance" or "accidents." These are the wrong schools of thoughts to deal with a mystery of faith like the sacraments.

3. Rebaptism. It doesn't make much sense (especially if we believe God (and not us) is the act-or in baptism). I'd never do it for the same reason I'd never get recircumcised - it's already been done. But if someone does, I don't think they're going to hell for it. 

4. Women Being Ordained. There are good biblical arguments for and against it. For whatever reason, some of the churches that Paul addressed had women who were out of line about something. At the same time, Paul refers to Phoebe in Romans 16 as a deacon/διάκονος; not a female "helper" but as one holding an office of leadership and service. So while Paul wanted some women to be silent in some places, he evidently wanted others to speak, teach, and serve (add Junia and Priscilla to the list). If we took Paul literally when he initially spoke to the Galatians, none of us have any business preaching the gospel, because we're all stupid and foolish.

5. Ordaining Licensed Local Pastors. I've written about this one aplenty. It's ecclesial malpractice to put someone in a congregation with the authority of the ordained office without the benefit of ordination. All ordination in United Methodism is a charism, a gift from the Church that can only be exercised under authority. Clericalism in United Methodism needs to take a hike. I treasure my master of divinity degree and am thankful for my education. But it is clearly nothing more than a tool in my belt, and certainly not required by either scripture or Early Church decree (and if it gets anymore expensive, our clergy will only come from the upper class or from those with rich uncles and aunts).

6. Divorce. I hate that it happens. And contrary to what some say, I don't think there's ever any such thing as a "good" divorce. I also don't believe God intended us to do harm to each other, particularly harm to body and soul. I don't know an annual conference in United Methodism that doesn't have divorced clergy within their ranks, progressive and conservative alike. Some of them divorced more than once. When did it become "okay?"

7. Being Gay. I've been a pastor and counselor (more accurately a listener) since I was 21 years old. I've heard parents (a) apologize for, (b) weep over, and/or (c) brag about their gay children. I've listened to gay folks who have begged God to replace their orientation with that of being heterosexual. I've counseled gay folks who are angry at God: "Why am I this way? If it's wrong, then why did God make me this way?" Worse: "I tried to be married to my wife/husband. I really, really tried. But they knew even better than I did that it simply wasn't going to work. No matter how hard I try, I can't fake being straight." Clearly, it's not a choice.

All of these things - as well as so many more I haven't listed - can split a church, if we let it. The question to me is: why do we let it?

Maybe it's just the "cool" thing to do these days. We gotta keep up with our politicians, you know. Never pass up a chance to be in, or start up, a good schism.

We'll see how God and history look at us in twenty or so years. I hope with grace and forgiveness that we do not deserve.

Logistics of General Conference 2019 - Making Sure It Works

Much has been said, written, and continues to be debated regarding the called session of General Conference 2019, The Way Forward, and the three four several Plans being advocated. I won't add to the many opinions, theological treatises, and scientific theories regarding sexuality, Natural Law, and modern psychology. Everyone has an opinion, and we'll continue to hear about them ad infinitum.

Unless you're Gomez Addams, train wrecks are not fun to watch. Some fear a train wreck is in the making at the called General Conference of the United Methodist Church next month. I hope for the best, and pray that some of the nitty gritty things are being fleshed out, so that the main purpose can be accomplished.

I'm only a fair scholar, a mediocre theologian, and a somewhat-capable church pastor. But one thing I think I'm fairly good at is strategy and logistics, probably instilled upon me at an early age by a few bosses I had in secular life. One of the sage pieces of advice in life given to me was by one of these bosses who had also been my high school principal: "Sky, at the end of the day, all the theories, convictions, and expert opinions don't mean $@&% if it doesn't work. *issing matches [turf wars and power grabs] will insure it won't work." I can't remember what the conversation was about, but the reason I remember his words so well is because he looked me in the eye and grabbed my shoulder when he said it. He taught me a lot about team work, and taught me a lot about life.

With that being said, here are some logistical issues, ponderings, and hopes:

• How, exactly, will General Conference work regarding organization, and the handling of legislation re: the Plans and ninety-nine filed petitions? 
• Will the "Committee of 864" organize the petitions into a logical grouping and create omnibus bills that can be voted upon, then perfected in the plenary of General Conference? Or will each petition be voted upon separately? If I remember correctly, ALL of the petitions have to be voted upon - someway, somehow, before we adjourn at the end of the day on Feb. 26th. 
• Whomever we elect as chair of the committee will need our continuing prayers... and a great grasp of presiding and Robert's Rules of Order

And related to that... what about hiring a registered or professional parliamentarian as a consultant to our chairperson and presiding bishops? We ask our committee chairs and bishops to do an awful lot, and given how (I am guessing) parliamentary procedure could be used as a strategic tool of leverage... and a weapon... it might be good to head off knotty messes before they happen. Plus, we elect bishops for their leadership and spiritual abilities - not their acumen at Robert's Rules of Order.

I'm no expert on parliamentary practices, but I took a college class on it (mainly because the records office called and told me I was 3 hours short on an elective). I thought it would be an easy class. It was anything but easy. Not only did we have tests, we had to participate in mock proceedings, and everyone had to be the chair once. I still have one of the tests. Among the questions asked (they were all essay questions):

In what ways are main, subsidiary, incidental, and privileged motions alike? In what ways do they differ? 

Are there conditions which permit a member to interrupt another member that has been assigned the floor and has commenced speaking? If so, list the conditions and explain. 

Why can't the motion "to lay on the table" be reconsidered and why does it yield to privileged questions? 

Suppose you were acting as presiding officer and a main motion was made and seconded and was followed by a motion objecting to the consideration of the question. The latter motion was not seconded. State fully the procedure that you would follow, and how your procedure would be varied if (a) no second was offered, or (b) if the question was put and a majority objected to the consideration of the question.  

Motions to reconsider and to rescind both offer the group an opportunity to reverse former action. Explain the ways in which these motions differ. 

If you were the presiding officer, how would you attempt to stop a small minority that was trying to interfere with the orderly transaction of business?

I made a "B" in Dr. Kiesling's class, and I was happy to have it. I never thought I'd need it... until I was a district superintendent. I got to preside over a potentially contentious church conference regarding a piece of property and the handling of a large foundation bequest. The congregation was made up of both town folks and a lot of large-operation farmers who had all participated in parliamentary procedure in their high school FFA clubs (and some were ready to play "stump the chump" with the chairperson - me). I was never more thankful for Dr. Kiesling's class, and I survived the day. If I'd been smart, I would have brought a parliamentarian with me as a consultant. What could it have hurt? The important thing wasn't me or being seen that I could or couldn't handle it; the important thing was getting it right. I had a little training, and a little luck. I could have prepared better.

We'll need all of the help we can get for this General Conference, as it will be like none other. In addition to our theological arguments and opinions, we'll need folks with expertise in presiding and in Robert's Rules. All of this will be rendered academic if things don't work.

Here's to hoping the logistics work. As my Irish friends would say (lifting a glass): Sláinte!

Sky+

America At Its Best

I will have to confess that I am usually a political cynic at heart. I was relieved when I moved back to Tennessee after 18 years and didn’t have to choose a political affiliation, where election primaries are open, since being a “non-affiliated” voter in Kentucky usually meant I didn’t get to vote in many election primaries. 

You can click here to read more of my ramblings about my wrestling match with American and church politics, but the short version is that I’ve never thought that we had to compromise our faith, morals, or ethics to offer Christ to others. The hard questions might be: 

1. Are we willing to give up labels that are stumbling blocks to those who are already stumbling? 
2. Are we willing to jump into the middle of the fray rather than take a side in it? 

My beef with American politics is that we tend to pick a side, and too often it rubs off on our faith and discipleship. - hence my cynicism.

I also have to confess, that at least for this week, my political cynicism was briefly put aside. I rarely watch anything on television live, relying on the news or a YouTube video to catch up on newsworthy events in the world or sports. Yesterday, I watched a few clips of President Bush’s funeral. I always liked President Bush, and I remember my parents both liked him (even though they didn’t vote for him). My mom really liked Barbara Bush. He made tough decisions, including one that probably cost him his presidency. The bottom line was that he loved his country, and he felt called to serve it. Serve it he did - with distinction. 

My admiration for him was that he seemed to “get” that life is about balance. He loved his country and fought for it… yet he wrote many, many letters to his family while in service, because his family was important to him. His service to the country not only included military and legislative service, but he also took on directing the CIA for a year after it had been rocked by scandal and poor morale, and helped get President-elect Carter properly briefed for his presidency. He put service above self… but never above family and faith. He was a life-long Episcopalian (which was reflected in his funeral service), but also had an appreciation for the “freer” side of the faith, as a little Michael W. Smith got thrown into the service for good measure. 

His balance was also reflected in his humor - he never took himself too seriously, and could put himself into a joke as well as anyone (even parodying himself on Saturday Night Live, telling Dana Carvey that his impression was nothing like him. In fact, Bush said, “It’s bad. It’s baaaad.”). 

I was so pleased to hear so many people testify to President Bush’s legacy, and so uplifted to see, amidst all the civil religion pageantry on display, that at the heart of it all was a full-on, smells-and-bells worship service that honored God and celebrated President Bush’s life. Everything about it was at the heart of what being Christian is like and should be. And with respect and kindness, I hope those of other faiths or of no faith felt that, for a couple of hours, the United States was at its best.

It has always galled me that governments, the military, and the police, fire, and EMS services usually “do” funerals better than churches do. There is so much to celebrate when we celebrate someone’s life, beyond just a few memories about the deceased.

I think I was most moved by former Senator Alan Simpson’s testimony about his friend George Bush, who put honor and friendship above appearance and politics, helping to support and lift up Sen. Simpson at a tough time in his political career. I also read in the Washington Post where a couple of years ago Sen. Simpson was in Texas having treatments for his cancer, and President Bush insisted on taking him out to a construction site where a new, magnificent sanctuary was being built at St. Martin’s Episcopal Church in Houston, where the Bushes were members. Simpson told him, “This really is something.” Bush’s deadpan response: “I think they built that waiting for me to croak.” 

Senator Simpson said two things in his witness that are sage worthy: 

1. “Humor is the universal solvent against the abrasive elements of life.”
2. “Hatred corrodes the container it’s carried in.”

Those two things will preach. Anytime. Anywhere. At any church.  Or anywhere else, for that matter.

In the midst of that worship service, I forgot who the Democrats and the Republicans were. We were Americans who were mourning and celebrating the life of one of our leaders, veterans, and family men. We were, for a couple of hours, at our best. 

I had to dig to find this picture, but it was the last time I felt this same way about our country: at the dedication of the George W. Bush Presidential Center/Library in 2013. George W. was not a perfect president anymore than his dad was, and I will leave it to historians and scholars to debate that all out. But in this picture I see everything that the United States ought to be about. I see everything that people of faith should be about. I remember what is important: people. I remember what matters: Goodness. Honor. Respect. Service.

Of course the feeling won’t last. We will soon be back to partisan bickering and political oneupmanship. I will quickly become a political cynic again. And I know that on some days, I feel the very same way about the institutional church and its politics, and I find myself ashamed about my attitude and role. Wednesday gave me a glimpse of what is important and what can be lifted up - if we choose to do so. 

I have recently begun my mornings and ended my days with an old Celtic prayer, talking to God as He is. May we all find the peace that is within us, and the peace that we can CHOOSE to live out:

I awake in the name of the Father who made me.

I arise in the name of the Son who died to save me.

I rise to greet the dawn in the name of the Spirit who fills me with life.

I lay me down in the love of my Father.

I surrender my body to rest in the love of my Savior.

I trust my life in sleep to the Spirit who fills me with life.

May it be so.

Sky+

Passion, Position, and Possible

Three things to make clear at the beginning:

• Passion is good. We should have a burning passion for God and God's people.
• Position. Knowing what we believe and proclaim is faithful.
• Possible. With God all things are possible. 

One word that needs to go along with all of the above: Intractable.

in·trac·ta·ble  [ˌinˈtraktəb(ə)l]
adjective 

• hard to control or deal with.
"intractable economic problems"
synonyms: unmanageable, uncontrollable, difficult, awkward, troublesome, demanding, burdensome: "intractable problems" 

• (of a person) difficult; stubborn.
synonyms: stubborn, obstinate, obdurate, inflexible, headstrong, willful, unbending, unyielding, uncompromising, unaccommodating, uncooperative, difficult, awkward, perverse, contrary, pigheaded, stiff-necked: "an intractable man"

We often say that "two out of three ain't bad." That holds true for many things, but when it comes to living as a community, passion and position without some concept of what is possible today, leads to intractability. While some folks call that "unacceptable compromise," "selling out," or "justice denied," I would argue that it is part of evolution: we cannot be what we can and should become if we do not make a means for us to get there. We are not a homogeneous society.

I once thought that church politics was above government/state politics; that was horribly naive on my part. In some ways, it is much worse - when someone doesn't get their way in government/state politics they protest with campaign signs, stickers, t-shirts, and Facebook posts... but very few people threaten to leave their country over it. In the Church, however, not only will be threaten to leave - we will and do, or even start our own church.

I've always been a fan of Martin Luther, who (may have) said at the Imperial Diet of Worms, "Here I stand - I can do no other." However, we sometimes forget what he (may also have) said as he left: "I am finished!" In the short run: he took a stand against the injustices of Catholicism of his time. In the long run: we've had schism upon schism upon schism. The numbers of Christian rites, communions, and denominations is impossible to tally, but it is safe to say that it is over a thousand, and that number is getting bigger instead of smaller. 

Should we be willing to take a stand? Yes. But the extreme of "me" above "us" leads us to the priesthood of each believer, instead of the priesthood of all believers. It cannot have been Luther's intent for the church to devolve into such. (A great article about this, "Methodists, The Politics of Leverage and the Future of Protestantism," can be found here.)

My hunch is that, within my lifetime, we will see U.S. politics become a multi-party system. Already, we see inklings of what England went through at the end of the 19th century, as there were disputes within the two major parties. I see this in my own United Methodist Church as well: presently, there aren't two neatly-defined sides: we're more like "facets," and no facet has a totally monolithic constituency. As we head to a called 2019 General Conference, I presently see passion and position. I don't see much that is possible. I see a lot of intractability.

United Methodists have never been as monolithic as we'd like others to think we are: John Wesley and George Whitefield's correspondence confirmed that early in Methodism's history. In 1784 Wesley sent the first Methodists the Sunday Service for Methodists in North America, which was supposed to be the liturgy used in this new denomination. It fell into disuse quickly, and didn't help that brother Charles Wesley strongly disapproved of it, thinking John had taken great liberty to give this new movement a Reader's Digest condensed version of the Book of Common Prayer:

  Why change it then for your Edition, 
  Deprav'd by many a bold omission?
  We never will renounce our creed,
  Because of Three but One you need,
  No longer the Nicene approve,
  The Athanasian Mound remove,
  And out of your New book have thrown 
  God One in Three, & Three in One.

We are far from the only tradition that has an "orthodoxy" set up but still finds a wide interpretation and practices present:

• How many Roman Catholics uphold their official teaching on birth control (and how many Protestants remember that it was forbidden until 1939 when the Episcopal Church changed its stance on such)? 
• How many United Methodists embrace the official stance of the UMC on the Real Presence at the Lord's Supper/Holy Communion (real presence not to be confused with transubstantiation), which says, "Christ’s presence in the sacrament is a promise to the church and is not dependent upon recognition of this presence by individual members of the congregation." 
• "One baptism for the remission of sins." Ever pastored or been a DS to a rural UMC in the middle of John Calvin country? Surely you don't know anyone who got "rebaptized" in the Jordan River on their last trip to the Holy Land! And related to the Nicene Creed... 
• Which Nicene Creed? Will you have yours with or without filioque? That led to the Big Split of 1054, you know. 
• Could it be that we are selectively intolerant about some things?

The dichotomy of priesthood of each believer and the priesthood of all believers is what United Methodists are going to have to wrestle with. It is also going to mean that some embrace of the art of the possible has to be in the mix if we want to move from imperfection towards perfection. We will also have to remember that, as much as we seem to want to make contextualization and culture as irrelevant to the Gospel truth, the fact is all of us use both every day. As Sam Chen said in a recent issue of Christianity Today (June 2018): " 'Just stick to the Gospel,' we say. But if we under-adapt (culture & context), we are giving them legalism instead of the gospel. The opposite of syncretism isn't the pure gospel. The opposite of syncretism is legalism." And we will always find ourselves in the struggle of over adapting or under adapting context and culture in presenting the Gospel.

• If you use an English biblical translation instead of Aramaic and Greek, you have embraced local culture and context.
• If you've ever used a movie or piece of literature in teaching or preaching, you have used cultural hermeneutics.

My hunch is that at General Conference 2019, we United Methodists will wrestle with, try to amend, perfect, and then vote down every "plan" of going forward as a denomination where human sexuality is concerned. We have so designed our polity and structure that we have now legislated ourselves into intractability and designed it to operate from a position of distrust. 

In my opinion, our approach is all wrong. "We" versus "they" cannot create an us. Everyone is going to have to swallow some pride and move toward with what's possible, so we can reach perfection. None of us, regardless of the label we've chosen for ourselves, have "arrived." We see through a glass, darkly.

A few years ago, Orthodox and Evangelical Christians in Turkey realized that their greatest obstacle to the Gospel wasn't the secularized world or culture - it was their fighting with each other. So a little book was written: Christianity: Fundamental Teachings. Instead of stating the beliefs they DON'T have in common, they approached it from what they DO have in common. Who endorsed this book?

• The Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarch
• The Armenian Patriarchate
• The Syrian Orthodox Patriarchate
• The Catholic Bishops Conference of Turkey
• The Associate of Protestant Churches

Sahak Mashalia, an Armenian Orthodox bishop who was a central writer of the book, said, “Our common wish is that this book may be like a stone thrown into a lake, and its waves reach out to the most remote parts of Christendom.”

That's a better use of stones, at least to me, for us. All of us. Along with passion and position, what is possible for us to better be the Body of Christ... instead of bodies?

Pax,
Sky+

REPOST: Politics, Faith, and Vacuum

(Note: this is an article I wrote in February of 2017. As the sermon this week is about hope, I think this article is just as apropos today as it was last year. We have a plenteous mission field in which to immerse ourselves.)

I have had the glorious gift of retreat for the past week and a half. Six days on an island/key with two old and wonderful friends, and (so far) three days at a Trappist monastery. I have purposefully surrounded myself with creation, friendship, religious icons, solitude and silence, and prayer offices. I have purposefully avoided the news and social media banter. Time and distance has allowed for thought and reflection, and I’ve come to believe that the Church, and more specifically the United Methodist Church, is missing – and has been missing – some grand opportunities.

I’ll preface this by saying I was raised and am a social and political oddity. My father was a lone Democrat in a family of Republicans, yet wouldn’t avoid the draft for the Korean War even at the insistence of my grandfather, who had lost a son in World War II. My mother was a social liberal as well, growing up a coal miner’s daughter and whose mother’s only sources of income were social security and the Black Lung Benefits Act. Both of my parents grew up in poverty, and while social liberals they were fiscally conservative - yet very generous with their own money in their community and in helping aging parents. My father became a college professor. My brother and I are well educated as well; my brother has four degrees and I have two. We grew up in a small southern college town that hosted students of many different nationalities. Our neighbors were Cuban refugees, and their youngest son and my brother became best friends (in fact, my brother’s Spanish became nearly as good as his English). He, like my father, went into academics and is a college professor and research scientist in immunology. You could probably call both of us “educated rednecks” – my brother has a farm where he regularly hunts and fishes. I gave up both early in life and became a motorcyclist and shade tree mechanic instead, at least where hobbies are concerned.

Unlike my Midwestern parents, my brother and I became products of Southern culture. We hunted, fished, and hauled hay in the summer. At the same time, we also played baseball, tennis, and golf. At home we were surrounded with books, intellectual conversations, and political discussions, yet we also went out in the evenings and ran around with friends whose parents were white-collar and blue-collar, upper-middle class and lower-middle class, and (because of the university) of every color and nationality: white, black, Cuban, Indian, Korean, Arabian, Lebanese - and we all did things that were wholesome as well as the things that can often land young people in trouble. We both went to the same college where our father taught, and met and became friends with even more diverse folks: Japanese, Venezuelan, Iranian, African, and Russian. We were both active at the Wesley Foundation. It was a unique childhood and education.

As I reflect on where I’ve been, and where I am now, I see a lot of angst and fear. Not just in the rural area in which I serve as a district superintendent/shepherd of a few counties in far Western Kentucky, but across the world. So much anger and division around politics – and not just here in the U.S., but also in the United Kingdom, where the Brexit campaign has caused great chasms amidst its citizenry. This spring France will have an election that has the potential to be as divisive as our own U.S. election. And immigration woes are not unique to the U.S., as the U.K., Germany, and Sweden are struggling with how to handle refugees. Some of it is logistics, for others it involves cultural biases, and for still others, fear. There are no easy answers. It becomes more complicated when you try to live in the tension of logistical and political realities versus a Christian faith that embraces the Beatitudes and Great Commandment not as suggestions, but as a way of life.

The temptation is great to pick a “side” in all this – and in the U.S. we tend to think and align ourselves in polar terms, using an either/or logic. Picking either side would make my life easier, and either side would probably win me more friends. But there is a reality that, as one who is both Christian and a pastor, I can’t escape: on any given Sunday, either in the United Methodist Church or most other churches, the folks in the pews are usually split 60/40 on political alignment, one way or the other (at least, according to a study quoted in a recent issue of Christian Century). There are of course exceptions, but it’s fair to say that God-fearing and believing people are Democrats and Republicans alike, and both attend our churches. My own denomination finds itself in the same ideological camps beyond Democrat or Republican: are you Good News/Confessing Movement/WCA or are you RMN/MFSA?  Preaching partisan politics or alignment, at least to me, just seems pointless and possibly violates the vow to do no harm. But more importantly, it’s just plain ineffective - and I believe - theologically and biblically unsound.

As my friend Allan Bevere wrote a few weeks 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 - pray that they might leave us Christians alone to do our work: sacrifice, don’t allow ourselves to be transformed by the world, please God. Let Caesar, the President, and the 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.

That may mean that we willingly and sacrificially place ourselves in the middle of the fray;  in that messy middle isn’t a fence, but a cross, and a cross we are commanded to bear. Not in a martyr, “look at me” sort of way, but in a servant, sacrificial way. And it’s not to avoid being political, but in fact to EMBRACE a politic: the many, many folks for whom the Church may be saying it is doing something for, but when it comes to doing, has done damned little. I would add that I have to indict myself as well. The Church has not filled a vacuum – it has created one.

The very same people who are in “backlash” politically have seen (a) the government fail them, and (b) the Church fail them. Why or how that’s occurred, or even if their reasons are “right” or “wrong,” matters little. People are hurting. In the area I live in, I’ve watched factories and industries dry up in the 50+ years I have been alive. Hopelessness turns people to drugs and addictions. Nones and Dones either found the Church wanting, or (worse) shooting their wounded. Secondary and tertiary doctrinal matters have become idols while the primary Gospel message of love, grace, and hope has been lost.  That’s less my observation, and more the observation of the growing number of people who love God and Jesus Christ, but have come to the conclusion that the Church sucks. Some of those same people have concluded that government sucks, too. I grew up with these folks, lived with these folks, and now seek to shepherd and pastor these folks. Many of them no longer attend a church, or have never attended to begin with – and in their minds, for good reason. You can learn a lot by occasionally hanging out with people outside of the Church. Jesus did some - most - of his best work there.

Charles R. Morris, a columnist for Commonweal, wrote a great article in the January 6^th issue, “Backlash: Trump’s Rise Is Part of a Pattern.” It discusses the historical and present political sways endemic to our world. One takeaway is this: things are very broken – both in government and in the Church – and those who have been ignored and hurting for a long time are now responding. In response to a perceived void, the void is being filled - for better or worse. One fact is undeniable: nature abhors a vacuum.

This could be an opportunity for the United Methodist Church - as well as any other church or communion - to shine. Instead of continuing the mostly insular argument about who’s theologically and ideologically correct, we could decide to make disciples and let God sort it all out. In short: progressive folks? Go make disciples who are progressively minded and need a place of hope and refuge. Conservative folks? Go make disciples who are conservatively minded and need a place of hope and refuge. Pastors? Go shepherd wherever you’re sent and love your people, even if some of them have politics you don’t like. Let your call and your love outweigh your opinions (wow, that even sounds Wesleyan!). Build bridges across the gaps. Outdo others in showing love and compassion (wow, that even sounds biblical!). And everyone: realize that as a Church, we are a minority that more and more people have less and less respect for, and even less inclination to be a part of. We are called to minister to the least, the last, and the lost – of which the number continues to grow. Our world needs hope. Our Church used to be in the hope business. Jesus still is.

There is no shortage of people who need saved from despair, pain, and hopelessness. They are rural and urban alike. But we DO have a shortage of professed Christians who are willing to ditch their own politics and partisan theology and go tell people that they are children that God loved and cherished since the day that they were born.

The reality is that there aren’t just two sides. This world and the people in it represent a multifaceted reality that needs hope, love, grace, and peace. We don’t have to compromise our faith, morals, or ethics to offer Christ to others. The question is: what are we willing to give up that is a stumbling block to those who are already stumbling? Are we willing to jump into the fray rather than take a side in it?

“They will know we are Christians…”

Pax,

Sky+

Abbey of Gethsemini

Season after the Epiphany, February 2017

New Staff Roles - Being Church In a Rapidly-Changing World

Beloved Jackson First UMC folks:

The Lord be with you.

I am sure the staffing changes at the church are filtering down to Sunday school classes, coffee shops, golf foursomes, and other groups across the church. With that, I am sure that there are questions about who will be doing what, why is this happening, and what does this mean? Here are some (beginning) answers:

1. Who will be doing what? It's a great question. The quick answer is: we're working on it! Our next few staff meetings, along with working with the staff-parish relations committee, are to address this questions. One of the things that we're sure of as we've worked and prayed for months about this: the Spirit is nudging us to move from being a staff-driven church to a Christ-driven church.

2. Why is this happening? We are encountering the same realities that many Christian churches are: a diminishing congregation, a more secular country, and a culture that is less friendly to the institutional church. Sundays and Wednesdays are no longer "sacred space" and school, athletic, and community events are regularly scheduled during times previously protected for church activities. We have buried a lot of saints in the past several years, and even in years we have broken "even" in the number of deaths and new members, our new members are often not able to contribute to the church financially at the level of those who passed away. From 2004-2016, our membership and worship attendance has looked like this:

During all of this time, our budget has basically remained about the same. As you can tell, we have been asking fewer people to give more... and they have. We are a remarkable, generous, and faithful church! Those who are on our Finance and Staff-Parish Relations Committees cannot in good conscience ask you to do more, and we need to be the best stewards we can where money, resources, and staffing are concerned. In January, I began to share with our staff and key leadership about these realities, and it has been something all of us have been committed to pray about. While this may seem abrupt, this has not been a hasty decision or one made from panic; we wanted to address this before it became a problem.

3. What does this mean? I have been blessed to know many of your previous pastors and the work ethic of this church - and it is clear that "working hard enough" has never been the problem. We are living, however, in a season where the church has to move from a membership-model to a discipleship-model of ministry, where we can make disciples... who in turn, can make disciples. We live in a world of wireless communications, online banking, and virtual relationships - which means we have to work harder than ever at establishing personal relationships. We are also a church that has members of varying ages and cultural backgrounds who have different experiences of worship, communications, small group activities, and church programming.

This just doesn't mean our staff will have to assume new roles because they are smaller in number; all of us as a congregation will have to assume new roles. The lines between what we became used to staff doing and what we do as church members will sometimes blur. We are all responsible for each other. All of us are now ministers, not just some of us. This is nothing new; this is what the Apostle Paul told us about being a community of faith:

For as in one body we have many members, and not all of the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us... (from Romans 12:4-6, 1 Cor. 12:4-31)

Culture Shock. This is what we are going to encounter - all of us - culture shock! If you've ever traveled outside of our country, you know what this is like: people do familiar things differently than we're used to... but they get done. Even if they speak English, it sounds different and some words have different meaning... but they communicate as effectively as we do. We start to feel odd and out of place... yet we find people who love and embrace us anyway. These next few years will be the same for us. And yet... can you imagine the first twelve disciples being asked by Jesus to "let the dead bury the dead" and "follow me, and I will teach you how to fish for people," and what they must have thought at first?!?

Reality Has Occurred. I have seen the United Methodist Church as a layperson, a preacher serving a 3-point charge, a senior pastor, a district superintendent, and as a present General Conference delegate; in short, I have seen it from the basement to the pew to the pulpit to 30,000 feet above it, and have witnessed incredible changes and shifts in 50-plus years. The history of Christianity shows similar changes and shifts in its 2000 years.

What We Have Isn't Bad! There is still a place for the traditional and sacred. There is still a need for our stories to be told, our legacies to be continued, our fellowship to grow stronger. Our music and youth programs are strong and continue to grow stronger. Our link with Methodist history is something God has used and continues to redeem. God honors and will honor these things. Alongside those things, God also refreshes and renews us:

I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. - Isaiah 43:19

God's Not Done with Us. In fact... God may just be getting started. We already have a great history, a wonderful building, and an awesome location to do ministry in Jackson, Tennessee. It need not, and can not, be confined to our building. We have learned a lot in these 192 years as a church, and still have much to learn. And while no one knows the future "or the day or the hour," this much we do know: God is with us. Let us not be afraid!

Pax,
Sky+