The Boy, The Boss, and The Bully (A Creative Re-Telling of "David and Goliath")

The Bully is bigger, stronger, and has more stuff than just about anyone else. But The Bully does not use his privileged position for the common good, but rather for selfish purposes.

Plus, The Bully is loud. Like, really loud. His favorite thing is to stand up in front of people and shout things. Most of the things he shouts are things about how much better he himself is than anyone else, how big, how strong, and how much stuff he has.

As our story begins, this is what The Bully is doing. He is technically representing a "side," but he really doesn't care about one "side" or the other; all he wants is for people to know how great he is. That is his only agenda as he stands (literally) in the gap between the sides: that everyone notice him.

And they do.

The Boss certainly does.

Now, The Boss is old, and getting older. He has started to forget things, and to act in unusual ways, doing things that make the people around him make meaningful eye contact with one another, shake their heads, and look worried.

And as The Boss slowly drifts away from rationality, it kind of scares him. He becomes desperate to hold on to what once was. This makes him irritable, grouchy, and just plain mean. He becomes unreasonably defensive, and does so astonishingly quickly, and his companions often walk on eggshells, trying not to upset him.

The Boss has heard the Bully, and The Boss is ticked.

Which is when The Boy shows up.

The Boy is fascinated by conflict, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. He is bemused by The Bully, secretly impressed by his bravado. The Boy is also quite arrogant, puffed up with a braggadocious confidence born of youth and previous successes.

And The Boy has figured out how to strategically yet casually drop these success stories into daily conversations as often as he can. This, by the way, infuriates his older brothers, who would rather he just stay home and do his chores. Even his dad seems to conveniently forget about him from time to time.

The Boy has heard The Bully, and The Boy is energized.

He asks, "What's the reward for taking out this guy? Like, what's in it for me if I decide to take this loser out?"

"Well, The Boss would love it, I'm sure," comes the reply. "Probably cut you in on a pretty big slice of the action!"

"Let me at 'im!" says The Boy.

When The Boss gets wind of The Boy's bluster, he calls him over. "You can't take this guy," he says. "You're just a kid."

The Boy's smile is almost a sneer. He drops some knowledge. "That guy? He's nothing. A piece of dust. I've killed literal lions with my bare hands. Ain't no thing."

The Boss is impressed. "Go on, then." But then The Boss shakes his head, coming out of a foggy daze, and seems to remember that he's supposed to be in charge here. So he starts to tell The Boy how to do the job. But The Boy won't have it.

"Look here, Boss. It's my way or no way at all. Hear me?"

And he goes up to The Bully. Now The Bully has been standing there, shouting. Like he does. And when he sees The Boy coming up to him it kind of catches him off guard. "I'm hurt! I'm insulted! This little puppy coming up to me, thinking he's got something? Bring it, scrub."

And The Boy thumps his own chest with equal machismo. "I will bring it, you big loser. Did I mention I killed literal lions with my bare hands yet? Well, I did. So there."

And by the sheer force of his toxic masculinity, so surprising to The Bully who usually corners the market on that particular commodity, The Boy knocks over The Bully. And while he's down on the ground, The Boy walks up to him and kicks his teeth out before he can get away.

Then he picks up the teeth and strings them together on a little piece of twine that he wraps around his neck so everyone will be sure to see that it was him, The Boy, who kicked out The Bully's teeth.

And when The Boss saw it happen, since he had already forgotten their previous meetings, he asked his buddy, "Who is that kid?" And his buddy, not wanting to upset The Boss by reminding him that he had, in fact, already met The Boy, feigned ignorance.

Dare We Use Data?

I wonder if the General Conference could make a data-informed decision in February?

(For those who may be unaware, the United Methodist Church has called a special session of our denominational  decision makers to decide what to do about same-sex marriage and the ordination of people who are gay.)

I don't think the decision should be completely based on data, of course, but at least data-informed. We talk about the need for data-informed decision making all the time, so why not at General Conference as well?

There are data on the views of United Methodists about same-sex marriage. Pew Research says that 49% favor, 43% oppose, and 8% don't know. Here's that info: (click this.) I am not aware of any data on UM views about ordination of people who are gay; if you know of any, please share them.

But that's not even what we need at this point, is it? It seems to me that we need data on a different question - for lack of  a better term, "compatibility."

What I'd like to know, as a delegate to General Conference, is an answer to this question: "How many United Methodists want to remain in a denomination with people who view marriage differently than they do? And how many do not want to remain in a denomination with people who view marriage differently than they do?"

Those who would stay in a denomination with people who see things differently have been labelled "compatibilists" and those who would not have been labelled "incompatibilists." I embrace these terms for the sake of brevity.

Here's my question, then. Is anyone aware of a poll, undertaken with sound scientific structures and procedures, that asks that question? I know that a few Annual Conferences did informal surveys last June, but have there been any legitimate polling organizations working on this? If we had that information, it sure seems like we would be better equipped to make a data-informed decision in February.

I have a hypothesis, of course. I think the majority of us, maybe even two-thirds, are "compatibilists." I do think that percentage would vary by age. I think that percentage would vary by region, as well. However, my informed opinion is that overall, United Methodists are mostly "compatibilists."

But that's just my opinion. I would LOVE to have some data to either back that up or not.

Our views on same-sex marriage are quite diverse, as I have written about previously. It isn't a matter of just yes or no. So that's not really the question to focus on, I don't think. The key question is compatibility, and I really would like to have some data behind our decision.

School Bus Stop: A Moment

The school bus stops, northbound. A dozen cars behind, a dozen more (including me) southbound. All stop.

Lights flash, stop sign out, door opens.

The bus driver begins applauding.

Just clapping his hands, looking out of the door with a bit of a smile.

In a rush, the kid dashes from the porch, hood up, backpack bouncing. Practically flying down the driveway, eyes up, smile radiant.

The kid leaps, plunges, soars up the steps.

The bus driver holds up one hand, the small grin now a full out, mouth wide open, smile of pure excitement and joy.

The kid smacks his hand with the most epic of high fives, turns, and walks down the aisle to find a seat.

The driver, smile lingering, eyes in the mirror.

Door closes, stop sign down, lights off.

The bus pulls away, the cars begin to move again.

A minute, maybe a minute and half total. Nothing to it, really. And yet what an amazing impact it will have on the rest of the day.

For that kid, for that bus driver. And for me.

When Anger and Fear Run the Show

I have had my mind changed so many times in my life that I have lost count. And most of those times, my mind was changed by someone dropping a truth bomb that opened my eyes to a new way of looking at things.

I remember one such conversation, must have been twenty or twenty-five years ago, with a good friend who also happened to be very conservative. He taught me something I've never forgotten.

I told him, "I don't understand how you can be a conservative Republican and also a Christian."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, I believe followers of Jesus are supposed to work for the common good, help people in need, feed the hungry and all that. So I don't see how you can vote for politicians who don't want to do those things."

"Okay, I see what you're saying," he replied. "But actually I also believe followers of Jesus are supposed to help those in need, feed the hungry and all that. Yes. I'm with you."

And here he paused and gave me a look that let me know he was about to truth-bomb me. I braced for impact.

"I just don't think it's the government's job to do that. See, I believe that job is done most effectively by individuals, churches, and non-profits. And that's why I'm a 'smaller government' guy, actually. If the government is smaller, we have lower taxes, and if we have lower taxes, it frees up more of my money to use in order to help people in need more effectively."

And here I remember the distinct feeling of understanding something I had actually never thought about before. It was a pretty cool feeling, to be honest. I truly understood my friend's perspective, and could appreciate how he saw things.

We both wanted to work for "the common good." The only point of disagreement was how much of a role the government should play in doing that work. He was conservative, which means he thought that role should be smaller, whereas I was a progressive, which means I thought the role should be more significant. And so we could actually have a rational and respectful conversation about where along the spectrum of governmental involvement would be best for our community, our state, our nation.

Now, I share the story of that conversation in order to say this: We're not there any more.

If we persist in viewing politics as an ongoing conversation about how much government involvement is good for the people of our communities, our states, our nation, then we are kidding ourselves. That's not what we are doing any more.

The foundational political spectrum used to be from right to left, from conservative to progressive. It isn't that these days. Far from it.

The foundational political spectrum is from fear and anger on one end to rationality and respect on the other. And just lately it feels like the "fear and anger" end of the scale is leaning dangerously.

Fear and anger are powerful, and spread easily. There is a way in which fear and anger can be good things, but the movie "Inside Out" taught us nothing if not what a disaster it is when fear and anger are running the show. And is there any doubt that fear and anger are running the show these days?

Fear and anger manifest in malicious, jeering tirades in public.
Fear and anger manifest in horrific insults hurled thoughtlessly at others.
Fear and anger manifest in broken friendships and family members who no longer speak to one another.
Fear and anger manifest in a zero sum game of "us" and "them" thinking, in which there are clear winners and losers and as long as you are a winner then everything is fine.
Fear and anger are being modeled daily for us by our elected leaders in appalling, immature displays.

And ultimately fear and anger run out of ways to manifest that are not physically violent, and reach a tipping point. How close are we?

And we are all being infected by it. As a pastor, I sense that people are generally exhausted. So much energy is being consumed by the fear and anger all around us that it leaves nothing for anything else. Even the really good stuff that we know is really good and we ought to be doing but just don't have the mental, spiritual, or physical energy to do it.

This is not intended as a partisan post. No one has exclusive access to fear and anger in this bizarre season we live in. I hope nobody reads it from one "side" or another. I am legitimately worried that we are headed somewhere none of us want to be, and nobody has the energy to stop it.

With a truth bomb of his own, Abraham Lincoln concluded his second inaugural address, "With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations."

It is to this day one of the most amazing political speeches in history. I still believe Lincoln's ideas are possible, in spite of everything. "Yes. Yes I'm sure I do," he told himself encouragingly.

There is an antidote to the infection. A sure-fire cure for what ails us. And we all know what it includes:

Honesty. Integrity. Compassion. Humility. Rationality. Respect. Grace. Love.

May God grant us the energy to resist the anger and the fear and advocate instead for these.

MLB Playoffs

It's playoff time again, and I kind of have a rooting interest this year. I'd really like to see Moose and Lo Cain get another ring, so I'm on board with the Brewers.

And as it turns out, my formula for picking a team for which to root also works this year! In the past, when the Royals or the Cardinals don't make the post-season, I have based my rooting interest on the team with the lowest opening day payrolls.

Here's the list, according to this site.

American League:
Red Sox -  240 (the highest in MLB this year)
Yankees -  173
Astros -     164
Indians -   142
A's -          82

National League:
Dodgers -  191
Cubs -       189
Rockies -  147
Braves -    122
Brewers -  96

(Those are rounded to the nearest million, by the way.)

So see there, my chosen team is also the lowest National League payroll! How about that? Works out perfectly. So other than the Brewers, I'll be rooting for the lower payroll of whichever two teams are playing.

The total of the list above? That would be 1,546,000,000. That's one BILLION five hundred forty six MILLION dollars. Also kinda fun is to realize that the San Francisco Giants spent $213 million dollars (second highest in MLB) to miss the playoffs and end up with a 73-89 record.

As I say every year, these dollar figures are mind-boggling. I fully acknowledge the reality of how many global issues could be solved if this money were shifted to other purposes. Yes, indeed I get that.

And at the same time, ... well, it's baseball! So go Brewers!

Depleted

We took a year off from foster care when our daughter was a senior in high school, and always said we would do the same for our son. We want to be present for the senior year, attend all of the performances and go visit colleges, and just basically be here. Fully here.

We told the case worker back in the late Spring that was our intention, and she was on board. The court schedule delayed the transition a little while, since we didn’t want to move them before a long-term decision was made about their placement plan. But other than that delay of a few weeks, we have known all along that this transition was coming.

And yet …

Knowing that a foster placement is leaving is one thing; grieving the transition is quite another.

It is especially difficult this time, it seems. These two have worn us down. We are depleted. The energy it has consumed to care for these two boys for these nine months has left us very little with which to focus on anything else. At least, not very well.

The level of chaos and disruption that their past trauma has brought into our home is hard to describe. And their past trauma follows them everywhere, bringing the chaos and the disruption along the way. It’s a particularly nasty kind of frustrating; just when we start to think there are signs of progress, like they might be “figuring it out,” things shatter, and come crashing down.

Their subconscious sabotage of all things functional is maddening. Like we are living an alternate reality. And it’s exhausting.

We are depleted.

So this one doesn’t feel at all like a foster parent “win” for us. Twelve years and twenty kids, and we have enough experience to have seen pretty much everything, and there have most definitely been “wins.” But right now, not so much. Words like defeat, failure, surrender … these seem more fitting.

The boys’ behavior is so erratic, so chaotic, that it is impossible to predict what will happen now. There may be a “honeymoon” for the new foster family, during which things seem to be on track. And I hope and pray that it stays that way and they find a forever family there.

And it is just as likely that the one will disappear into the deep sorrow that defines his identity and the other will lash out from the uncontrollable rage that lurks in his heart, and it will all come crashing down. Again.

This morning I knelt down and looked into the three year old’s eyes. I said, “We are gonna have a good day today, right?”

His sweet and sincere “Yes Daddy” will linger in my memory.

Then we did three deep breaths, like we do every morning, and he went into the room to greet his teachers.

And now it’s not even that I don’t know what to feel, it’s more like I just … don’t. Like the emotions are so conflicted that they’re cancelling each other out. And we’re just left void. Blank.

Depleted.

A Surreal Malevolence

There is a surreal malevolence at work in the world, whose goal is only chaos.

This surreal malevolence cares not for nation, corporation, denomination, family, or tribe. This surreal malevolence uses as its tools anything and everything it can get its corrosive claws on - partisan politics, news outlets, social media - whatever. Even (and especially) those things we would like to think of a good and nice and maybe even fun.

Further, the surreal malevolence does not care who gets elected or is legally able to be married or kneels for their flag (or not) or makes a profit or goes to bed hungry or wins the war. And as long as we are all out of sorts, mad at one another, and anxious, the surreal malevolence is satisfied.

Those who engage in a particular religious worldview know the surreal malevolence as Satan, the Devil, the Tempter, and a dozen other names. He is called Screwtape and Wormwood. She is known as demon or darkness or death. Their name is Legion.

Succumbing to the surreal malevolence is a pandemic, with global proportions. Evidence is ample, recorded on handheld devices and posted to YouTube in a daily deluge. Chaos. Anxiety. Unrest. Lifelong friends now unable to speak. Family members suspicious of one another, openly hostile. Hatred on full, public display. Once orderly systems rife with confusion.

And the surreal malevolence under the surface is relentless, uncaring, unfeeling; laying waste to empathy, respect, humility, integrity, compassion, honesty, common sense, all that once was assumed, now rotting away.

And even so, God whispers, “Do not be afraid.”

Yes indeed, “Fear not.” For there is another force at work in the world. A force more powerful by far. And that force is not only capable of defeating the surreal malevolence, it is quite likely the only thing that can.

To put it into words, that force is known as “true love.”

There is no fear in love, for perfect love casts out fear. And you shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free. True love - a deep, bold love that is brutal in its honesty and equally brutal in its graciousness. A love that insists on authenticity and vulnerability. A love that is at the same time both pliable and unyielding. A love that is at the same time naked and wearing the full armor of God. A love that is the paradox of the deepest pain and the most ecstatic joy.

True love. Love that gazes into your eyes and makes your heart flutter. Love that brings a smile to your lips. Love that embraces without awkwardness, and also knows when to walk away. Love that will calm the storm, but can rock the boat when necessary. True. Love.

To live our lives fully by the tenets of true love is terrifying. It requires us to do things like turn the other cheek and walk the extra mile and give not only our coat but our shirt as well and lay down our life for someone else. It is inherently risky. Not metaphorically risky, actually physically risky to your comfort, your health, your safety. It is unabashedly selfless. It is not for the faint of heart.

To put it simply, resisting the surreal malevolence at work in the world requires us to announce, advocate for, and embody true love. Everything we do, everything we say, even everything we think about, all must come from one source, to the exclusion of any other.

In so doing, we exhume the seeds of chaos and sow instead seeds of grace and peace. The work will require us to lay aside our apathy, our passivity, and our fear. The tools for this work are compassion, empathy, and justice. The harvest may be a long time coming, but it will be plentiful. If we will be patient and work with diligence, we will feast.

I can feel in my guts when I am beginning to succumb to the surreal malevolence. It raises my blood pressure and gives me heartburn. I’m sure you know your own warning signs, you are aware. Do not collapse. Breathe deeply. Take a drink. Back off. Remember what you need, what you have, what you know.

And then re-enter the moment, re-centered on true love. Re-enter re-centered. And get back to work.

Yes, you have enemies; You also have grace.

For many people, it’s easy to say, “I do not have any enemies” without thinking too hard about it. We tend to think of “enemies” in geopolitical rather than in personal terms. I get that.

However, when I am too quick to dismiss the idea that I have enemies, it alters my reading of the 23rd Psalm, in which God “prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” If I have no enemies, then does God not prepare the table? Who are these “enemies” to which the Psalmist refers?

The word is not uncommon, appearing over a dozen times in the Psalms. It is one of the terms used to describe one of the two groups of people in the Psalms: the “righteous” and the “wicked.” Broadly speaking, the “righteous” are those whose relationship with God is characterized by abiding trust and utter dependence. The “wicked” (or “enemies”) are those who oppose God’s call to completely trust God and depend upon divine grace.

And so we might paraphrase Psalm 23:5 this way - “You keep providing grace for me, right when I need it the most.” For it is precisely in the presence of “enemies,” meaning those things that keep us from experiencing the fullness of a relationship with God, that we need grace the most.

God doesn’t give up on us. Ever. And God especially doesn’t give up on us when we need grace the most. In fact that’s when God doubles down on grace, pouring it out in abundance.

Someone reading this right now may very well feel like God has given up on you. It’s not true. I promise. And because God hasn’t and won’t give up on you, I won’t either. I promise. God is preparing a table before you, right in the presence of your enemies, right when you need it the most. And I would love to join you for dinner!

Love Disruption

I stood next to the communion table in the middle of the chancel area, holding an extra loaf of bread in my hand, ready to re-supply one of the serving stations when needed.

The man approached me from the congregation, passing by one of the serving stations as he did so. My first thought was that he had misunderstood the serving instructions and was coming forward to get a piece of bread from the loaf I was holding. So I stepped forward to meet him, indicating that he should return to the serving station.

However, he actually wanted to talk. To me. Full voice. Right there and right then. And so he did.

He was not pleased with the day’s sermon content, and one of the illustrations in particular. And he wanted to let me know that he was not pleased and to ask me if he could address the entire church to express this sentiment.

My first response was to ask him if we could discuss the matter at a more appropriate time. I told him I would be happy to talk with him after worship, if he wanted to. This was insufficient.

And so I then shifted to answering his concerns, assuring him that I heard him, I understood his opinion, and that the illustration in question was used to give an example of the larger message of the sermon. (The message, by the way, was that Jesus asks his followers to love one another as he loves us.) I asked him about the other illustration that had been used, and if that one also bothered him. He said, “No that one was fine.”

It was at this point that I realized that the man was suffering. He was experiencing some kind of crisis, and was not fully engaged with reality. I do not know exactly what the nature of his particular pain was, but it was evident that it was governing his words and actions.

And so I again shifted gears, gently suggesting that we could talk about his concerns at another time.

Through it all, communion was being served. The three serving stations were going, people were receiving the sacrament, the steady sound of “the Body of Christ, the Blood of Christ” was the background of my conversation, people were kneeling in prayer all around us. #ThisIsChurch

My approach wasn’t working, and I was beginning to weigh other options, when Debi came up toward the table.

Debi had just received communion and spent time in prayer, and now she was walking up onto the chancel area and approaching the man and me. We made eye contact. In that unspoken moment, she said, “Do you want me to see if I can encourage him to come with me?” And I said, “Yes please, and thank you. And God bless you.”

Debi then spoke gently and graciously, but firmly to the man, saying, “Let’s go out into the hall and you and I can talk about this. I want to hear what you have to say.”

At about the same time, Matt stepped up into the chancel area as well. Matt echoed Debi’s words, and reached out to the man to walk out with him. At first the man acted as if he was going to resist, but decided to go with them. He stumbled a bit going down the steps, but walked out calmly between Debi and Matt.

Several church folks met him at the door of the sanctuary, and stepped out into the hallway with him. It was all very quiet and calm. Communion continued to be served at all three serving stations for the entire duration of this event. I watched through the windows in the back of the room, and saw several people gathered around the man.

Just before we sang the final song, he came back into the sanctuary. He went to his seat, and stood for the final song.

And then I witnessed one of the most beautiful, grace-filled moments of worship I’ve ever seen.

Here at Campbell, we have the practice of joining hands for the closing prayer. The people in worship were invited to join hands, as usual. And they did.

And not only did the people right around the man reach out and join hands with him, people literally crossed the aisle to make sure he had people to connect with. They surrounded him with grace. When I saw it, I knew I was witnessing the work of the Holy Spirit. I knew I was seeing the sermon come to life in that room, as these amazing followers of Jesus chose to love this man, just as Jesus loves us. This. Is. Church.

I have heard through the grapevine that later in the day the man was still talking about what had upset him from the sermon at Campbell. Someone told me that as he left he took his nametag off, threw it down on the table, and declared that he was not going to be coming back. We are planning to do what follow-up we can with him, to make sure that he is in fact okay.

But here’s what I saw on Sunday. I saw a disruption of love. I saw the church of Jesus Christ being the church of Jesus Christ. I saw grace in action. I saw the sermon we had just heard become incarnate. I saw an authentic outpouring of love for one struggling person. I saw the core values of Campbell UMC come to life with grace, inclusivity, authenticity, and truly selfless service.

A guest on Sunday asked me after worship if she could see our safety policies and procedures for a Sunday morning disruption, “since you obviously have them!” Imagine her surprise when I replied, “Actually no, we do not have any written procedures for Sunday morning disruptions like that. What you saw this morning was authentic; it was just Campbell being Campbell.”

It is far more important to know who you are than to know what to do.

I’m not opposed to having written security policies mind you, but what happened last Sunday was not the result of any kind of policy. Debi and Matt and all the others did what they did because that’s who they are. They did not stop and say, “Now what is our policy for 'Sunday Morning Disruptions'?” They simply and selflessly responded with grace.

They made sure the man knew that he was being heard; they made sure he and others were safe; they made sure he knew that he had people around him; and ... they prayed with him.

And they did all of this not because they “knew what to do in a situation like this.”

They did it all because they know who they are. And it was beautiful to see.

#ThisIsChurch

Way Forward Report - Initial Thoughts

“Which plan are you going to vote for?”

Since the “Commission on a Way Forward’s Report to the General Conference” has been published, several people have asked me that question – “How are you going to vote?” or “What plan do you like?” or some variation thereof.

The truth of the matter is, at this point we have no idea what we will actually be voting on. Our United Methodist General Conference is a bureaucratic morass, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. After the petition process, the debates, the amendments, the motions to do this and that and the other obscure parliamentary procedure, who the heck actually knows WHAT we will be voting on, much less how we will end up.

As I’ve said before, our United Methodist system performs exactly as it is designed to perform. Suffice it to say that our denominational structures and processes are not conducive to sweeping, dramatic transformations.

In their report, the Commission lays out three plans – One Church, Connectional Conferences, and Traditional. (My very sketchy summaries are below, and I’ll also share the link to the report itself. Click this.)

There were thirty-two people on the Commission, and they were asked which of the three plans they would publicly support. (Feel free to check my numbers on this, by the way, and correct them if I have miscalculated.)

18 support One Church. 12 support Connectional Conferences. 9 support Traditional.

That is to say, there are that many names listed on each plan. If you are good at math, you will already have noticed that is 39 names. (If not, you will now be going back to add them up.) 39 names - from a 32 member commission. So … It’s a riddle!

Actually it’s not a riddle. Some people put their names on more than one. And one put their name on all three. And some didn’t put their names down at all. As near as I can tell…

Of the 18 One Church people, 6 also publicly support Connectional Conferences, and 1 supports all 3.

Of the 12 Connectional Conferences people, 6 also publicly support One Church and 5 also support the Traditional plan, and 1 supports all 3.

Of the 9 Traditional people, 5 also publicly support the Connectional Conferences plan, and (as I have mentioned) 1 supports all 3.

There are 6 commission members who did not take a public position. All 6 are bishops.

So what, right? Well, to me it is noteworthy that the “Connectional Conferences” plan is the only one of the three that has zero people who publicly support only it.

There are 11 who support only One Church. There are 3 who support only Traditional. All 12 who support the Connectional Conferences plan also support one of the others.

I’m not sure what that means exactly, but it may mean that none of the commission members are really champions for the Connectional Conferences plan, and I think that says something in and of itself. It also seems like the Commission on a Way Forward as a whole is itself in favor of the One Church plan, which may say something or not.

As I said above, at this point in the incredibly long and complicated process, there is nothing to vote on.  Any General Conference delegate who tells you how they will be voting is being a bit premature. We need to wait until we get “in the room where it happens” and see how everything unfolds and what things may be added or withdrawn or changed. Where we end up on February 26, 2019 is anyone’s guess.

Please continue to pray daily, and if you might be able to pause from 2:23-2:26 each day, you would be joining thousands of Methodists praying at the same time. Pray for grace and peace and love. Pray for guidance and focus and patience. Pray for an awareness of the Holy Spirit’s presence.

And please pray, as I do each day, for a bright, hopeful, faithful future for the United Methodist Church.

+++

Sketchy summaries:

One Church - Pastors are free to, but not forced to marry same-sex couples. Conferences are free to, but not forced to ordain gay people.

Connectional Conferences - Creates 3 new subdivisions within the United Methodist denomination based on theological perspective, one on the conservative end of things, one in the center, and one one the progressive end. Conferences, congregations, and pastors choose with which of the 3 to affiliate.

Traditional - Reinforces restrictions on marrying and ordaining people who are gay, and strengthens the penalties for doing so.

Yes, We Really Are Better Together (Or: Again, the UMC is NOT Divided, In Spite of What Some Would Have You Think)

The Good News organization is working very hard to perpetuate the myth that the United Methodist Church is divided.

I just received a book in the mail from them titled, “Are we Really Better Together? An Evangelical Perspective on the Division in the UMC.” The first chapter is called, “We are Divided.” The subsequent four chapters each begin with the words “Divided on…”

Let me say this again, and as clearly as possible:

The United Methodist Church is NOT divided, we are polarized. It is imperative that we understand this distinction. There are loud voices on the ends of the spectrum, both right and left, that are dominating the denominational conversation. These polar opposites cannot abide the thought of being a church with people who think differently than they do.

The vast majority of United Methodists have a variety of beliefs and perspectives and opinions, even on very important theological matters, and are quite comfortable being the church together and embracing those differences as growth opportunities rather than vehicles for condemnation. We are united, not uniform, and see diversity as a strength rather than something to be feared.

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Of course, although there are many things on which Methodists do not march in lock-step, the linchpin topic is homosexuality.

I have read the introduction and the first chapter of the Good News book mentioned above, and I have yet to read the term “sexual orientation.” I have read the phrase “people who experience same-sex attraction,” and “those who identify themselves as gay or lesbian,” and even “a person struggling and sometimes failing to resist a predisposition to same-sex intimacy.”

At the same time, this declaration is made in the book’s introduction. “…we understand how LGBTQ+ advocates arrive at their justification for making the claim” that the UMC finds LGBTQ+ people “incompatible with Christian teaching,” and not merely the practice.

My question is this: How can the authors say they “understand” LGBTQ+ advocates, while refusing to acknowledge the reality of sexual orientation? Why do they so carefully avoid even mentioning the phrase, much less affirming sexual orientation and how significantly sexual orientation informs one’s identity as a person?

Until the far right “pole” of our denomination acknowledges that sexual orientation is a real thing, and as long as they continue to separate sexual practice from sexual attraction with such callousness, they are unable to make the declaration that they truly “understand” LGBTQ+ advocates justifications for anything.

And as for the far left “pole” of our denomination, until they acknowledge that no one should be forced to marry a same-sex couple against their wishes, and that those opposed to same-sex marriage are not hateful bigots with no compassion or sense of justice, they are similarly unable to make any declarations of understanding and unity. The far left pole is guilty of making sweeping generalizations just as gracelessly as the far right is, they are just less systematic about it.

And until both “poles” stop dominating the political processes that comprise our denomination’s administrative decision-making structures, the tension will remain. The language of the far right pole is legislative process; the language of the far left pole is protest. And so it goes. The reason the vast majority of United Methodists are not invested so heavily in this argument is that we are more invested in being the church in all of its colorful, vibrant, and messy diversity.

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Here’s what I need, and I hope someone will help me out.

I am a marriage equality pastor. That means that if I were given permission by the denomination to officiate a same-sex wedding, I would. I have colleagues who are traditional marriage pastors. That means they would not perform a same-sex wedding, even if given permission by the denomination.

I gladly embrace the connectional covenant that binds me to other pastors, and will continue to do so if the denominational stance on marriage changes. And what I need is a traditional marriage pastor who would stand beside me and say the same thing.

For eighteen years, I have worked in covenant with pastors in a denomination that forces me to practice my ministry in a way I believe is unjust to people who are gay. What I’m asking for is a traditional marriage pastor who would covenant to work with me in a denomination that does not force either one of us to do so, but allows each of us the freedom to marry couples or not, by our pastoral authority to discern that they are ready to begin a faithful, grace-filled, mutually respectful, life-long covenant relationship together.

Give me one hundred preachers who would enter into such a covenant, fearing nothing but sin and desiring nothing but God, I care not whether they be lay or clergy, local pastor or elder or deacon, traditional marriage or marriage equality, and we alone will shake the gates of the General Conference and bring new life to the United Methodist Church.*

*(With all due apologies to Mr. Wesley for my crass usurpation of his most elegant quote.)

He Has Seen Monsters

At breakfast this morning our three year old foster son and I had a conversation in which I attempted to convince him that monsters are not real. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he did not believe me, and considering his life experiences, how could I expect him to?

He knows there are monsters; he has seen them.

We don’t know all the details of what our two boys went through prior to being taken into care. We probably never will. But we do know some things.

We know that the four year old flinches almost every time I walk by him, even if I am not approaching him directly.

We know that the three year old’s temper tantrums come out of nowhere and are uncontrollable; last week in the middle of one he said, “I can’t hold it!”

We know that they have somehow learned words and phrases that we never taught them, that they never heard in our home, and they repeat them at times designed to create mass reaction.

We know that they are happiest when we are angry. Angry adults are “normal” in their world.

So even without knowing the details, we know enough. We’ve been parents for twenty years, foster parents for twelve, so we’ve been at this for a while. We know enough.

Yes, there are monsters, and our boys have seen them.

“There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than how it treats its children.” That’s how Nelson Mandela began his remarks at the launch of the Nelson Mandela Children’s Fund in May of 1995.

He continued, “We come from a past in which the lives of our children were assaulted and devastated in countless ways. It would be no exaggeration to speak of a national abuse of a generation by a society which it should have been able to trust.”

I fear that we are living in such a time in our nation. In my work I have seen children being “assaulted and devastated in countless ways,” and my spirit is burdened with a call to heal the brokenness I see within and among so, so many. To let them know that they matter, they have inherent sacred worth, just for being who they are, a beloved child of God.

Fred Rogers wrote, “One of the universal fears of childhood is the fear of not having value in the eyes of the people whom we admire so much.” The overwhelming majority of child abuse is perpetrated by people that kids admire, that they love, that they trust. And neglect by definition happens when a grown-up who is expected to be caring for a child, doesn’t.

If we as individuals, as families, as churches, as communities, as a nation, as a global village … if we do not take into consideration the long-term consequences of our words and actions on the children around us, we are failing. Children will listen.

Because our three year old believes that monsters are real, and I really can’t say he’s wrong.

"The Pick Up" - Thoughts on Removing Kids from Parents

I drove up to the house that New Year’s Day morning, not knowing what to expect. I had been given the address by the caseworker, and was told they would be waiting for me. It had all been arranged. But still, this was the first time I had done anything like this, and I don’t mind saying, I was scared.

We had gotten the call the day before: two boys, ages five and two, dad was unable to care for them any more because of his developmental disability. Could we take them?

Yes. We have room, we’ll be more than happy to take them.

There were no workers available to get them. Could we do the pick up?

Wait. “Do the pick up?” You mean go over and remove them from their dad’s home? Us? Sure, we had plenty of experience receiving kids into our home who had been removed, but no one had ever asked us to be the actual ones to go and get them.

Yes please, if you could. It would be very helpful.

So we said we would. We’re foster parents; it’s what we do. We take care of kids who need taken care of for a little while. This was a part of the deal. So we said we would.

I drove up to the house, pulled into the driveway, and turned off the engine. I saw a face at the front window, small, pale, eyes wide. With a flick, it vanished, and the curtain swayed shut.

I got out of the van and zipped up my coat against the cold before I walked to the porch. The door opened as I approached. A woman, about 30 years old, eyes red from crying, trying bravely to smile. “Hello,” she said.

“Hello. I’m Andy.”

“Come on in,” she replied.

There was a pile of boxes, suitcases, and backpacks just inside the door. “Here’s their stuff,” she said.

From the back of the house, I heard a child’s voice. “No!”

A man walked into the room, carrying a boy. He didn’t look at me. The boy was struggling in his arms, pushing against his dad’s chest, trying to get down. The man had him in that firm yet gentle grip that one only learns from plenty of experience with wiggly boys.

Another, smaller boy trailed behind.

“Let’s get your stuff, boys,” he said.

The woman started picking up bags, I grabbed a couple of suitcases, and we went outside. The man held on to the squirming boy, and followed. The little one was a shadow.

We put our load of luggage in the back, and then the woman said to the man, “Why don’t you go ahead and put the boys in the car?” This was a really good idea, and I opened the side doors for him. He began to buckle the boys into the car seats while we went back into the house to get the rest of the stuff.

When we got back out to the van, he had calmed the bigger boy down enough to buckle him in, and he was working on the little one, who was quite a bit easier to manage. When he had him secured, he walked back around to the other side of the van.

I watched as he put his hand gently on the boy’s small head, bent over close, and rested his forehead against his son’s. I did not hear what he said; his voice was low and it wasn’t my place to invade that moment. When he stood up, his son again offered a weak, confused, “No!” and began a litany, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” that was spoken slowly, through the tears that were streaming down his face.

When he heard his big brother start up, the two year old joined him, but with less intensity, more like he was sad that his brother was sad than the bitter grief of being separated from his home. He knew, yet he didn’t know.

The man closed the van door and walked quickly back into the house, head down, never once meeting my eyes.

I looked at the woman, who had fresh tears overflowing her eyes. I tried to smile, and said, “I promise you we will take good care of them.” I closed the two year old’s door.

She just nodded at me, unable to say anything.

So I got into the van, started the engine, and drove home.

They cried the entire trip.

Granted, just because I have physically removed children from their parent does not make me an expert on immigration policy. But in light of our work as foster parents, the stories coming from our nation’s southern border are particularly disturbing.

Families seeking refuge in our country are, by many accounts, being forcibly separated from one another and the children are being placed in the care of the state. A high-ranking member of the current administration has referred to this policy as “a tough deterrent.” Another said that if parents don’t want their children taken away, they shouldn’t bring them along.

I find that the arguments in favor of the policy are not even slightly compelling, and in fact are abhorrent to me. To argue that a parent has violated a law and therefore anything that happens to them or to their family is justified is not only a profound oversimplification of the situation, it is flat-out evil. Official U.S. immigration policy now feels like the kind of thing the “bad guy” would do in a movie, and not a very good movie at that.

And yet …  how can I think this when I myself have been the “bad guy?” I am a part of a system that removes children from their homes when it is deemed necessary. In fact, I have been the one doing the actual separating! Can I with clean conscience say that what’s happening is wrong unless it’s happening within the system I’m a part of? What is the distinction?

Whatever is happening at the policy level, real people have been given the task of taking real kids from real parents. Whatever is said at a press conference in front of an audience, a person goes up to another person and takes their child away from them. Whatever may be true at the “macro” level in terms of law or economics or politics, someone has to “do the pick up.”

And it is awful. It hurts. Trust me, I know.

For me, the most important questions to ask have to do with the children. Are they safe? Do they have food, clothing, and shelter? Are they being cared for? Is someone there with them, telling them not to be afraid? Do they know that they matter to someone? Do they realize they are somebody who is worth something?

And is everything being done, with as much urgency as possible, to get them back home again?

Will You Please Pray With Me?

I say those words - "Will you please pray with me?" - a lot. It is part of the pastor gig. This time, I'm asking you to pray with me in some very particular ways, and for a very important reason.

The reason is the future of the church, our continued faithfulness to our mission, the health and vitality of the body of Christ in the world. Specifically, the future of the United Methodist Church as we work through our policy differences about marriage and ordination of people who are gay.

Our bishops are inviting us to do three things, beginning on June 3 this year -

1) Engage in a weekly Wesleyan 24-hour fast from Thursday after dinner to Friday mid-afternoon.  Those who have health situations causing food fasts to be unadvisable might consider fasting from social media, emails or another daily activity.
2) Pause and pray for our church’s mission and way forward daily for four minutes from 2:23 through 2:26 am or pm in their own time zone OR at another time.  This is because the Special Session of General Conference will be held February 23 through February 26, 2019.
3) Pray using a weekly prayer calendar that will be posted on the UMCPrays.org website from June 2, 2018 through the end of February 2019. The calendar will list a unique cluster of names each week. The names will balance USA bishops and delegates with Central Conference bishops and delegates. It will also include General Secretaries, Commission on a Way Forward members, the Commission of the General Conference and the staff of the General Conference.

So I am going to attempt the 24-hour fast each week, although when I've tried fasting in the past it has not been as meaningful to me as I know it is for others. Nevertheless, I am going to give it another go.

And I have my alarm already set for 2:23 every afternoon, and when it goes off I will pause and pray on the spot. If you are with me at 2:23 and I seem to kind of "zone out" for a while, you'll know why.

And I'll make a point to visit UMCPrays.org each day to pray by name for those who are listed there.

I am hopeful and excited to tap into the power of so many people joining in prayer together. The power of God's Holy Spirit is at work in the world, and all I want to do is access it, to touch it, so that I can cooperate with what God is up to. I honestly do not know how the General Conference conversations are going to to, much less how it will turn out. Nobody does. And yet, I am hopeful.

Because see I believe in resurrection, and so I am not afraid. There is a force beyond our understanding, a "grace too powerful to name," a life that is abundant and eternal and transcendent. I am making a choice to rejoice, and embrace the grace  and peace and truth and justice and love that is made known to me in my Lord and Savior and Teacher and Friend, Christ Jesus of Nazareth.

So, will you please pray with me?

The Springfield Swastika Prank

The Springfield police have determined that the swastika spray-painted on the door of an African-American woman’s house was a “prank.” This “prank” also included eggs thrown at the woman’s house and a smashed car windshield, by the way, and similar vandalism at another home on the same street.

Some “prank,” huh?

Okay, so let’s go with that. Let’s assume that it was supposed to be a prank, that the people responsible didn’t mean anything by it, it was a joke, it wasn’t a blatantly racist hate crime. Let’s leave aside that notion for a minute and ask this question:

Does that make it better, or worse?

Some will say, “It was a prank, so it’s all good. No harm done. Moving on."

But I do not share this perspective. In fact, if spray painting a swastika on someone’s door is considered a “prank,” that kind of makes it worse. It means the racism is systematically ingrained, insidious and hidden. And when racism is hidden like that, it’s harder to resist.

Somewhere along the way, the people who vandalized the houses were taught that it is okay to “prank” an acquaintance with a symbol of racist genocide. Somehow in our system, the police are permitted to make a determination that an overt act of racial hatred is a harmless prank. Sometime in our history, we arrived at a point where spray-painted swastikas are no big deal.

I’m sure there are a variety of answers to the where and how and when we got here questions, but there can only be one response: resistance. That is, if we are to take our baptism promises seriously. In baptism, United Methodists promise “to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves,” and that includes forms that are systemic, hidden and ingrained in our culture.

You can hide racism in an astonishing number of ways, it turns out. And there it lurks, justified and excused, festering until an opportunity to erupt presents itself. And it always does.

Resistance to systemic racism means that, no matter what the intentions of the people in question, we are called to condemn their hateful act. By the technicalities of the law it may not be a “hate crime” as our system defines a “hate crime,” but that makes it no less reprehensible. It is abhorrent, evil, and antithetical to the very identity of God.

My friend Susan Schmalzbauer put it so well when she said, “A swastika is not a whoopee cushion.” No matter what the Springfield Police report says, this was no prank.

A Truthful Frame

The United Methodist Church is at a significant crossroads.

Recap: Our bishops are meeting this week to receive the report of the “Commission on a Way Forward.” That report will present a plan for the denomination regarding marriage of same-sex couples and ordination of people who are gay. The bishops will then present something (it may be that plan or it may be something altogether different) to the special session of the General Conference in February of 2019, to be held in St. Louis, Missouri. The General Conference will then vote on what the bishops present, which then becomes the official policy of the UMC. And after that … well, who really knows, tbh?

One thing I am hoping is that the conversation is being framed truthfully. One of the reasons our denomination has felt “stuck” around these questions for so long is that many of the people having the conversation are not working within a truthful framework. Hence, we talk around and around each other, and no progress is made. Let me elucidate.

Historically this conversation has been framed as one of polar opposition, with no room for a middle way. Specifically, one was either obedient to God or disobedient to God. One was either faithful to the Bible or had rejected the Bible. And when the conversation is framed that way, it is unproductive, not to mention dishonest.

See, when one group frames the conversation and puts themselves in the categories of “obedient” and “faithful,” placing the other group in the categories of “disobedient” and “unfaithful,” it is obvious that the conversation is going pretty much nowhere. Because of course nobody in the church wants to be labelled “disobedient” and “unfaithful,” especially in dialogue with others in the church.

However, this framework is not truthful; it does not reflect reality. It’s just false.

In the church, those who favor marriage equality as well as those who favor traditional marriage are doing so from an honest and heartfelt attempt to be obedient to God and faithful to the Bible. We come out in very different places, yes. But those differences are to be expected, arising as they do from very different life experiences in very different settings.

Look, no matter what your personal interpretations may be, you are making interpretations. In the dishonest framing of the conversation there exists an unwillingness to admit even that an interpretation is being made. One often hears, “No, this is not an interpretation. This is what the Bible actually says!” Such absolute certainty is not now nor has it ever been compatible with Christian teaching. We all make interpretations, as Christians everywhere always have.

If (and it’s a big “if”) we can get past the untruthful framing of the conversation and actually be able to say that someone who sees things differently than us is not being “disobedient” and “unfaithful,” we may be able to figure something out here. We may be able to actually craft an official denominational position that allows for contextual ministry to advance the mission of the church in healthy and hopeful ways.

Those who are clinging to the “you just can’t” position and those who are clinging to the “you just have to” position need to come to the middle on this one, where the rest of us are, where real life happens, where the mission of the church comes to life. We need to end up with a “you can but you don’t have to” position as a denomination if we want to stay focused on the mission, and actually start addressing some of the more pressing challenges that we as a church face in the 21^st century and beyond.

Finally I need to say this – I am not naïve. I understand that there will be people who will still frame the conversation with the false dichotomy I’ve described. I guarantee there will be General Conference delegates who stand up on the floor in St. Louis next February and say things like, “I’m being faithful to the Bible and obedient to God here – and you are not!”

But maybe just maybe there will be more of us who are willing to stand up and say something different, to say something from a different framework. As a delegate, if given the opportunity, I will do my best to do so. That’s one of the ways I am trying to be obedient to God and faithful to the Bible, actually.

The conversation matters, and that includes how the conversation is framed to begin with. May we frame our conversations truthfully, graciously, respectfully, and most importantly, may we frame them with love.

Blue Is Just a Color

Blue Is Just a Color - by David Cornelison

They don't deserve this aching numbness, limping through this world
With heartache all around them that kills their very soul,
And hands that should bring healing sometimes bring them pain,
And words that should bring comfort just beat them down again.

Blue is just a color if our hands stay by our sides,
If our words don't lead to actions, if we just leave them to die,
If the teachings of our master, of the one whom we call king,
Just lie in dust when uttered and don't really mean a thing.

And a child looks up to heaven and cries out to you, Lord,
But instead of love the bombs fall down and announce the start of war,
And we here in our castles never see the ways that we,
From actions tied to greed and hate, fill the land with misery.

Blue is just a color if our deeds don't match our words,
If the things of life that call to us can make us take the sword,
If the teaching of our master, from his words that spoke of peace,
Are somehow twisted into words that praise atrocities.

And looking at the TV to see the sights that call us all
To watch each other and laugh at those who fall.
And holding up for mocking all the ones who don't fit in,
We like to know that we could throw the rock that doesn't sin.

And blue is just a color if we only stand and stare,
If we say that we can't get involved, it's too hard, we just don't dare,
If the teachings of our master, of the one who comforts all
Are parsed through until all of us have some we get to gall.

How can those who know such anguish find a way to get to you,
Praying up to heaven when they don't know what to do?
But you still have a message of hope amidst the gloom
And tell them all these words of love that come to them from you.

"Child, I know your sadness; I felt it once before -
When those I loved betrayed me and sold me for their score.
The spat on me, they knocked me down, they nailed me to a tree,
And then I paid a heavy price and called it Calvary."

Love should be the color we mean when we say "blue;"
The words we choose and use so well that help us be like you,
And the teachings of our master, of the one whom we call Lord,
Can shape our lives and help us all be his hands while in the world.

Easter Momentum

Momentum. Mass times velocity. A measure of how much motion something has. The property that makes it more difficult to stop a moving object.

Basketball commentators talk about how momentum can have such an enormous impact on a game. When one team has momentum every shot they put up seems to go in, and anything the other team tries to do to stop them seems ineffective.

Churches have momentum, as well. A church in motion is a wonderful thing to be a part of, and Easter is certainly a season that can provide that momentum. When the energy of the Spirit is flowing freely within, among, and through the people of the church, it’s hard to stop it!
Easter Sunday launches us into a season that lasts fifty days, taking us right up to Pentecost Sunday. Our resurrection celebration is not a culmination, it is a transition. It moves us from one season (Lent) into another (Easter). And with that launch into the Easter Season, we feel the momentum of new life.

On Easter Sunday, I challenged everyone to think about how we “greet every moment.” In the resurrection, we intentionally shift our perspective so that every moment is greeted with joy, hopefulness, and grace. The way that we “greet” every day, every task, and every conversation has an undeniable impact on the outcome of each.

That's not to be "Pollyannish" about life. There's no denying that there are difficult days, there is pain and anger, there is grief and sorrow, there is fear and anxiety. I don't mean that we can just eliminate all of that with a more positive outlook on life. That's naive.

I'm simply pointing out that one of the qualities of momentum is the kind of "self-fulfilling" aspect of it. Back to the basketball metaphor - when one player is "feeling it," her or his confidence is contagious; the entire team starts to feel it as well, and shots start falling for everyone. Why does that happen? The players certainly don't get magically more skilled. Rather, they start "greeting" their own opportunities to score with the same level of confidence as their teammate has. And the entire team starts feeling the momentum.

I think churches can do the same thing. One person (or one group of people) can be "feeling it" in a church, and that energy and passion spreads quickly to others, until soon the entire congregation is renewed. It can all start by changing how we are "greeting" every moment. And guess what? YOU could be that person!

In so doing, you would be feeding the momentum of Easter: the “mass” of our gifts and graces times the “velocity” of the Holy Spirit all around us. Easter is a launching pad for churches, and it starts with the greeting.

So let’s go, church! Keep up the momentum! Christ is alive, and so are we!

Your Own Personal Jesus?

The theology behind almost every one of our ecclesial disputes is Christological. Simply put, church conflicts cannot be resolved when we make Jesus into an abstract idea, rather than a living, breathing, incarnate reality.

It is my belief that almost every disagreement within the church arises because each of us has created a particular Jesus, one who sees the world much like we do, and in doing so our “own personal Jesus” has become an idea, rather than the embodied presence of God. We love our idea of Jesus, especially because that idea always corresponds to our own way of thinking in the first place.

Why is this a problem? Well, here are a few thoughts:

There is no room for an abstract idea of Jesus to challenge your thinking. The real flesh and blood Jesus challenges human ideas all the time.

There is no way for an abstract idea of Jesus to empathize with suffering. The real flesh and blood Jesus suffers alongside people, meeting pain head-on.

It is not possible for an abstract idea of Jesus to relate to diverse human experiences. The real flesh and blood Jesus can talk with fishermen, tax collectors, lepers, disciples, prostitutes, centurions, children, grown-ups, the rich, the poor, the Jews, the Samaritans … and on and on.

In other words, when we reduce Jesus to an abstract idea, we lose the essence of who he is. When we impoverish our Christology to the point of abstraction, we make Jesus into no more than a weapon to wield against those with whom we disagree. And that’s just not okay.

The dispute du jour in the United Methodist Church is whether or not same-sex couples should be allowed to be married and whether or not gay people should be allowed to be ordained. (Yes, for you non-UMC people, we are still debating these questions - *sigh* - What can I say? Navel-gazing amuses us.)

The denomination is polarized over the questions, with one pole saying “You just can’t” and one pole saying “You have to,” and I can’t help but think that the theological gap between their positions is and impoverished Christology. Each has created a version of Jesus that fits their own viewpoint, and appeals to that abstract idea of Jesus in their discussions on the issues.

So each pole cites Scripture, each pole emphasizes the mission of the church, each pole laments becoming a “dead sect” instead of a vital, vibrant church. People from each pole, in other words, have created faith-based frameworks that use very similar language from which to make their case. Each pole has created a Jesus who sees things like they do, and appeal to him as their source of authority.

And now each pole is unable to vary from their positions, lest they be considered unfaithful. There is no compromise for those on the poles, because to do so would be to admit that they might be wrong, which would mean that the Jesus they created might be wrong, which of course we could never say – Jesus can’t be “wrong,” can he?

In the meantime, there are a lot of people in the center of the dispute du jour, who would say “You can but you don’t have to” about marriage and ordination of people who are gay.

In this large “center” of the church there are people who are more ready for the real live Jesus to challenge their perspective and to change their minds. There are people who have experienced how the real live Jesus suffers alongside people instead of callously dismissing them. There are people who are open to how the real live Jesus might relate to people differently in different situations, even situations that are very different from their own.

I honestly do not know what exactly is going to happen over the next year or so in the United Methodist Church. Will the majority of us in the “You can but you don’t have to” center of the denomination be able to fashion a workable compromise? If we do, will the poles then split off and become their own thing? And then if they do that, will the hard work of the compromise prove to be a waste of resources and energy, if they were just going to split off anyway? There is so much speculation and guessing going on in the denomination right now, but the truth is that nobody knows anything for sure.

What I do know for sure is that Jesus is Jesus, and the heart of this dispute (and many others) is our inability or our unwillingness to allow him to be so. Rather, we insist on creating a personal Lord and Savior who sees the world exactly like we do, and then we use that version of Jesus to attack one another.

We’re coming up to Palm Sunday, when we remember how a whole crowd of people created their own personal Jesus, a Jesus who was going to conquer the Romans and drive them out of Israel, a Jesus who saw the world very much as they did. As they marched into Jerusalem with this abstract idea of Jesus, they shouted his praises and waved victorious branches in the air.

But then, Jesus was Jesus. Jesus refused to be an abstract idea. Jesus had no intention of conforming to human expectations. And even though he told them several times that it was going to happen, his followers were nevertheless stunned when he was killed.

This season, what might happen if all of us followers of Jesus who think we know him so well would empty out our Jesus bottles, so to speak, and allow him to do what he does? What might happen if we surrendered our preconceived notions of Jesus, started with a clean slate, and just let Jesus be Jesus?

"Split the Baby" - Seriously?

In an article in the Springfield News-Leader today, Representative Steve Helms is quoted as saying, "I think we split the baby as best we could." Which is apparently his incredibly bizarre and theologically questionable way to say "compromised," I guess.

In the article, Representative Helms lays out some thoughts about tweaking the regulations around predatory lending practices in the state. Among the ideas are

            - Lowering the number of times a loan can be renewed from six to two,

            - Creating conditional extended payment plans,

            - Lowering the total amount of interest and fees that can be charged from 75% of the loan total to 35% of the loan total.

            - Lowering the licensing fee for a payday loan store from $500 to $300.

Helms is quoted as saying that more regulation that this would put lenders out of business, eliminating a much-needed resource for people who need a short-term cash loan.

Of course, Representative Helms is repeating industry talking points, rather than working for the common good. His bill (HB 2657) may seem on the surface to make meaningful changes, but the reality is that such incremental adjustments will have very little impact. As our legislature continues to be influenced by the predatory lending industry, the working poor in our state continue to suffer.

Notably, North Carolina has enacted very strict regulations on short-term lending, capping the interest rate at 36%, for example. Yes, several companies went out of business as a result, namely companies who were preying on the poor and basing their business models on loan rollovers, exorbitant fees and penalties, and triple digit APRs. I am not mourning their loss. And today it is still possible to get a small, short-term loan in North Carolina. The companies that chose to comply with the regulations are in business.

Representative Helms says he wants to "split the baby" on this issue. He means he wants to both make the corporations happy and also protect people from their predatory practices. He is attempting to cite scripture in making this analogy.

Solomon didn’t split the baby, though. Compassion, love, and justice are crying out to save the baby's life. We must cap the rate; lives are depending on it. May our legislature display the wisdom necessary to do what is right.

HB 2657 (Helms' bill) was read on March 1st, got its second reading on the 5th, and was assigned to committee on the 7th. A well-greased machine.

HB 1541 (which I wrote about yesterday) caps the interest rate at 36%. It was prefiled on December 7, read on January 3rd, got its second reading on January 4th, and HAS YET TO BE ASSIGNED TO COMMITTEE.

What's the hold up, I wonder? I suppose it's that HB 1541 doesn't "split the baby," but rather does everything it can to keep the baby alive, and safe from the deadly cycle of the debt trap on which predatory lenders base their profit margins.