General Conference 2020 / 2024

In this past week, following the United Methodist General Conference, numerous summaries, reports, and characterizations have been offered. True Metho-nerds will have read or watched many of them, from the most celebratory to the most forlorn. I have no reason to expect you to read mine.

But here it is, anyway:

The 2020 General Conference, rescheduled for 2024, marks the beginning of a revival in the United Methodist Church. We are in full reform mode, and history will show that these past five years were a season of tilling and planting. And now, the garden is about to bloom!

We have repented of our colonial structure, and have begun to atone by creating more regional autonomy. We have repented of our discriminatory rules, and have begun to atone by removing restrictions on ordination and marriage for people in the LGBT+ community. We have repented of our divisiveness, and have begun to atone by leaving the season of disaffiliation behind.

Now, I do not mean we have attained perfection, only that we are on our way there. To be sure, the Spirit is still working on us, and there is much to do before the world looks like God wants it to. But now, more than any time in my experience, there is an openness to the Spirit's work. It is this openness to the movement of the Spirit that inspires me.

REGIONALIZATION - In the future, there will be a General Book of Discipline and a General Conference to deal with matters that are important to the entire denomination. Connectional ministries, doctrine, ecumenical relationships, and those kinds of things. And there will be Regional Conferences that will create policies and procedures specific to the regions. Every current Central Conference will become a Regional Conference, and the United States will be a Regional Conference, bringing a level of equity to our system. A team has been created to work on the initial U.S. Regional Conference. For now, there will still be Jurisdictional Conferences in the U.S., but some have suggested changes to that structure, also. Time will tell. And although the plan passed overwhelmingly at GC, it requires amendments to the UMC's constitution, so it must be ratified at the Annual Conferences. Every AC votes, and when all votes are tallied it must pass by a two-thirds majority. That is what is known as an "aggregate vote." We will not know if the plan has passed for another 18 months or so.

REMOVAL OF RESTRICTIONS - As of the end of this General Conference, sexual orientation is no longer a restriction on a person seeking ordination. Also as of the end of this General Conference, there are no longer any restrictions on clergy performing same-sex weddings, nor on congregations hosting them. No requirements were passed, meaning the decision to marry a couple still resides with the pastor. The effort was very much like the "Simple Plan" that was offered in 2019 in that it simply removed restrictive language. Such restrictions were scattered throughout many different sections of the Book of Discipline, and so removing them all required dozens of petitions. (Petitions can only deal with one particular paragraph of the Discipline.) Almost all of these changes passed so overwhelmingly that they were a part of the Consent Calendar process. It only takes twenty people to remove an item from the Consent Calendar in order to debate it on the floor, meaning had there been any serious resistance to the changes it could easily have been brought to floor for debate. There wasn't. And they weren't.

DELETION OF DISAFFILIATION - "Paragraph 2553" was created and passed in 2019 at the special called session of General Conference held in St. Louis. It allowed for congregations to disaffiliate from the denomination if they did not agree with denominational positions on marriage and ordination. Ironically, it was written to allow more progressive congregations a gracious exit, but was used almost exclusively by traditionalist congregations. This paragraph was officially deleted from the Book of Discipline, and every petition seeking to extend this disaffiliation time to allow for more disaffiliations was "rejected in favor of" the petition to delete paragraph 2553. Calls for unity won the day. That's not to say that the UMC is monolithic - far from it. We are as diverse a denomination as we ever were. We simply seem to have lost our appetite for divisiveness. A new spirit of connectionalism is emerging.

There are a dozen other things I could mention. Ordained Deacons now have sacramental authority. The United Methodist Church will soon be in a "full communion" relationship with the Episcopal Church. There will be fewer bishops in the United States, saving the denomination millions of dollars. There is a new retirement plan for United Methodist clergy. There was a lot!

But the headline for me is reform. After 2019, the denomination awoke. What happened at the General Conference in St. Louis did not align with our identity as Methodists. The years of disaffiliations were both heartbreaking and clarifying. Decades of struggle for justice and equity brought us to this kairos moment, and the future ahead seems very bright.

In many ways, the denominational reforms we saw happen in Charlotte were just a matter of playing catch-up to where the people already were. That's how reform always happens, seems to me - from the bottom, up. It is a good time to be United Methodist, and I cannot wait to see what God does with us!

"Look at the serpent of bronze and live"

 The fourth Sunday in Lent is a reminder that God is with us.

 The people spoke against God and against Moses, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food.” (Numbers 21:5)

The complaint came to Moses as the people were making their way through the wilderness, having been liberated from slavery in Egypt but having not yet arrived in the Promised Land. There were some mixed feelings among the people, naturally. I'm sure there was a lot of joy for being free, and at the same time a lot of anxiety and fear; they knew neither where they were going, how long the journey would take, nor what to expect when they got there.

And so, they complain. Naturally.

Many have noted the contradiction: the people complain both that there is no food and that the food tastes terrible. This, of course, is more than just a fun detail of the story. The contradiction means that the complaint wasn't really about food. Theirs was a fear they could not articulate, for it was too big, too complicated, too difficult to name. And so, they complained about the food.

What happened next is so strange, it is almost comical. The Bible says that the Lord sent poisonous snakes that bit the people, killing many of them. And though there is nothing in the text that explicitly indicates a causal connection, we cannot help but read the killer snakes as a consequence of the people's complaining.

In response to the snake predicament, God has Moses make a snake out of bronze and attach it to a pole. The idea is that people look at the snake on the pole and they won't die from the snake bite. "Moses made a serpent of bronze and put it upon a pole, and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live." 

If we are being honest, this is completely hilarious and bizarre to think about. It offends our 21st century scientifically informed perspectives. Which is, of course, precisely the point. It is a mistake to try to resolve that offense, to ease that tension. There is something to learn there; it is the space into which the Holy Spirit speaks.

That snake-on-a-pole makes another appearance in the Hebrew Bible, when King Hezekiah was cleaning up the temple:

He removed the high places, broke down the pillars, and cut down the sacred pole. He broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made, for until those days the people of Israel had made offerings to it; it was called Nehushtan.(2 Kings 18:4)

It seems that the bronze snake had become more than a reminder of God's presence. It had itself become the object of worship. The people had forgotten the iconic, sacramental identity of the bronze snake. They had forgotten what the bronze snake pointed to. "Nehushtan" just means "a thing made out of brass." 

Rev. Dr. Katie Nix says that "the sin of this story is the belief that the people knew what they needed better than God did." It is always helpful to remember that God is God, and that we are not. And this is especially true during wilderness times.

In times of high anxiety and fear, when the future is uncertain, we rely on tangible reminders of God's presence. We lean into means of grace - prayer, worship, an image to look at or an object to hold, those kinds of things - as a palpable touchpoint that functions sacramentally, reminding us of God's active presence within, among, and around us.

And these objects or actions are so very helpful, but they are just reminders. The reality to which they point is much, much bigger. It is easy to slip into thinking that God isn't present when things are unfamiliar. When we are worshiping in a different sanctuary, or when we are grieving the loss of one dear to us, or when the very pattern of human interaction seems so completely different than it was a decade ago. 

It is in times like those that we cling to the bronze snake up on the pole and forget why Moses made it in the first place. So remember, this Lent, that God is with you always, everywhere, at all times. We may be afraid, anxious, uncertain, and yet the things around us are but nehushtan, and that God is present with us no matter where we are, no matter when it is, and no matter what. 

"I Am the Lord Your God"

The third Sunday in Lent invites us to remember the story.

Exodus 20 is one of the two places in the Bible where we read what are commonly known as "The Ten Commandments," and it is the appointed lectionary text for this week.

In the past I have been asked if I support the posting of "The Ten Commandments" in public places. My answer has always been the same. Unequivocally no. But maybe not for the reason you think.

To be sure, posting "The Ten Commandments" in public places is problematic because the "public" who occupy those places do not all ascribe to the Judeo-Christian tradition, and that should be reason enough. But for me there is another compelling reason to avoid the practice.

Posting "The Ten Commandments" in public places separates them from the story. It relegates them to a mere list of things not to do, rather than a chapter in the story of God's love for God's people in the world.

Writing on Exodus 20, Terrence Fretheim points out that "This covenant is a specific covenant within the already existing covenant with Abraham." The story had already begun, and was entering a new chapter. The beginning of Exodus 20, before the "commandments" themselves, is as important as the rest, and maybe more so:

"Then God spoke all these words, “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery..."

The people are already "God's people" by the time they get to Mount Sinai. The story has already begun. God has already been at work to save the people, to redeem them from slavery in Egypt. In that sense, these "commandments" are not given as a way to earn God's favor. It isn't: "Do these things and God will love you." Rather it is: "God loves you so much and in response you should do these things."

Too often, we approach the commandments of God as if they are video game maneuvers. If we jump up on these platforms in this particular sequence and collect up these specific coins, we will be rewarded by advancement to the next level. But the love of God doesn't work like that. 

We are already in relationship with God. God created us. God has chosen us. God has set us free. And God is here, in our midst. 

That is our story, the story of our relationship with the Lord. But not only ours. It had already begun by the time we show up. And the story will continue long after we are gone. May we remember the story, and live in gratitude for our small part of it.

Diversity Without Division

The United Methodist Church is not divided, it is diverse.

This distinction is crucial to understand in these weeks leading up to February's General Conference session. The practice of ministry looks very different from one region to another, from one town to another, even from one congregation to another in the same town, and even within one congregation!

And in this diversity of ministry, we are still the United Methodist Church. I am not sure when "diversity" became a bad thing, but among many it seems to be so. We are a beautifully, frustratingly diverse church; some people celebrate that and others dig in their heels against it.

Among the things we do very differently across the denomination are some practices that comprise the very heart of Christian discipleship: worship, Holy Communion, mission and service work, small group processes. Our buildings are diverse, our staffing structures are diverse, our administrative processes are diverse. We are a diverse denomination. (Or, as I have said before, we are a "holy mess.")

So, let me get to my point. In the United Methodist Church today, there are pastors who officiate at same-sex weddings, congregations that host same-sex weddings, and ordained clergy who are gay and out. And in the United Methodist Church there are pastors who will not officiate at same-sex weddings, congregations that refuse to host them, and conferences and bishops who would never ordain a person if they are gay and out.

That's the reality. That's what is happening now. And some look at that reality and see "division" whereas some see "diversity."

In addition, there are already a processes in place in our denomination to respond to all of that. We have processes by which we seek a "just resolution" to conflict. Paragraph 362 of our Book of Discipline says, "This review shall have as its primary purpose a just resolution of any violations of this sacred trust, in the hope that God’s work of justice, reconciliation and healing may be realized in the body of Christ."

The just resolution process allows for dialogue and relies on relationship. It means that one case may look very different from another, and be resolved in a very different way. And while that frustrates some, I would much rather have a flexible system that can be contextualized easily than a rigid system of automatic responses that we try to apply to every case everywhere, for all time.

Beyond that, there are already processes in place by which an individual member, a pastor, or a congregation can exit the denomination. There are connectional, structural, and financial implications in those processes, of course, and relationships that need healing and restoration as a result. Nevertheless we already have these processes in place. Those processes are utilized every year, as people and congregations decide to not be United Methodist any more.

We are "Methodists;" we have methods for doing everything we do!

My point is saying this is simply this. In practice, not a lot is going to change after this upcoming General Conference, no matter what happens there.

Pastors will continue to marry same-sex couples - the question is are we going to change our denominational policy to formally allow it.

People who are gay will continue to be ordained - the question is are we going to change our denominational policy to formally allow it.

For some, the answers to these questions will be a hard NO. For the "hard no" people on the right, it is a matter of Biblical obedience. But there are "hard no" people on the left as well, for whom just "allowing" it is not enough; it is a matter of Biblical justice and therefore our denominational policy needs to "mandate" it. This reflects the polarization in which we live these days.

If I may offer an unpopular opinion - the far right (and maybe the far left as well) will leave the United Methodist Church no matter what happens next February. And then in 2020 at the next General Conference we'll address the new reality and look toward the future.

And listen Linda, if we think the decision made at General Conference 2019 is going to "fix" the church once and for all, we are naive and short-sighted. There is no one easy way to "fix" our brokenness; salvation is a life-long endeavor.

But one thing we can do toward that end is to understand the distinction between divided and diverse, and to reclaim diversity as a healthy, beautiful characteristic of the church.

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CLICK HERE to see my sermon about the Trinity in which I explore the idea of diversity without division and unity without uniformity.

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.

Work Harder, Preachers

Hey preachers, let me have a moment…

There is a lot of low hanging fruit out there this week. A lot of easy barbs, jabs, pithy snark we might include in our sermons. There is a lot of it, and it’s hanging really, really low.

Work harder. The Word of God needs to be proclaimed this week as powerfully as it ever has been, maybe even more so. Work harder. This coming Sunday’s sermon is crucial; it’s impact will have a lasting effect on those who hear it. Work. Harder.

How many sermons will include the word “shithole” this Sunday? How many times will the line, “Galilee was a shithole country, too” be uttered by how many preachers in how many pulpits?

That’s just too easy, preachers. Work harder.

Don't just negate; create something new. Don’t only deconstruct; let your preaching be constructive. Do not waste vital sermon time reacting; preaching is a proactive moment.

Every one of us needs to invest some significant time this Sunday morning describing the world as God intends it to look and then letting the people know that it is up to us to go out and make it look that way. Creative, constructive, proactive - Preach the Word.

Yes, resisting the evil forces of the world is a significant part of our role, preachers. And yes, we need to name those evil forces. Racism is real, and it is roaring as loudly as it ever has. Bigotry, misogyny, hypocrisy … all on vibrant display in our country this week. Sure, call it out, name it, drag it into the light.

But don’t stop there - work harder!

 Don’t spend your entire precious time slot speaking against something; speak for something. Offer the alternative. Describe God’s preferred reality, and be specific about how we together can bring it to life in the world.

There are dozens and dozens of Biblical descriptions of the world as God intends it to look - the prophet Isaiah, the words of Jesus in Matthew 5-7, the practices of the early church, Paul’s descriptions of unity in diversity. Find them, read them out loud, and then dare people to live like that.

There’s probably a MLK march or rally or event of some kind in your community, right? Whatever it looks like specifically, it is an opportunity to stand in connection with others on behalf of justice and peace and understanding. Tell your congregation to go to it. (Springfield, MO - Click here)

There’s probably a program in your community designed to help people who have immigrated from another country, right? Get the information and put it into the hands of your congregation on Sunday. (Springfield, MO - Click here)

Yes, there is a lot of low hanging fruit this week. Preachers, do not be tempted. To simply negate, deconstruct, and react is antithetical to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Create. Construct. Proactively proclaim the Good News. God has an amazing, gracious, love-filled, just, peaceful, vibrant vision for what this world is supposed to look like. Announce it. Proclaim it. Tell them that it is here! Just sitting there, waiting for us to realize it! Waiting for us to enter it … to receive it.

It’s a big Sunday, preachers. Work harder.


(11:15 a.m. - UPDATED with links for Springfield, MO responses)

"I Believe IN ... "

We saw the new Wonder Woman movie last week, and loved every minute of it! Among the most noteworthy moments is when the title character says, “My mother was right about the world; she said they didn’t deserve me …” To which Captain Steve Trevor responds, “Maybe it’s not what you deserve, but what you believe. And I believe this war should end. If you believe the same, then help me stop it.”

            Near the end of the movie, Wonder Woman says, “It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love. Only love will truly save the world.” (A bit cliche, perhaps, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t meaningful.)

            That got me thinking about what it means to “believe” something, as opposed to “believe in” something. How are those two ideas different? Dictionary definitions of “believe” include “to accept something as true” and “to hold an opinion.”

            But the definition changes a bit when you add the word “in.” To “believe in” can be “to have confidence in the existence of something,” but also can be defined as “to have trust in the goodness, value, or ability of something or someone.”

            And what people of faith say is that we “believe in” God. Which seems to me to mean more than just think God exists. It seems to have more to do with that second definition, to trust in God’s goodness.

            And since it has to do with trust, that must mean that “believing in” God is more about an ongoing relationship than just accepting a list of doctrines as true, or to hold a certain set of opinions.

The historic creeds of the church all begin with the phrase “believe in,” and that should be a poignant reminder that religion is, at its heart, a relationship. The church is not the institution, not the structure, not the doctrines - the church is the living expression of humanity’s relationship with God. This, I believe!

There Is More Than One Way

The other day my friend Valerie asked me, “Can I come to your church?”

I replied, “Yes! Of course!”

And then her face lit up and she said, “I never realized there was another way to do it!”

The “it” she was referring to was the sacrament of Holy Communion. We had just had pre-opening night Communion on stage together with many of the cast of “Jesus Christ Superstar.” It was a wonderful, holy moment. And it was different from what she had experienced before.

Valerie had grown up in one particular tradition, and thought that there was pretty much only that one way that “counted.” And of course it is deeper than just how you do Holy Communion. The antecedent of the pronoun “it” in Valerie’s statement truly refers to the church in general. Her observation is profound, and the church needs to listen hard.

Yes, there is more than one way to do church.

How many people grew up being told that there is only one way to do it? Or how many were told, “Well, there may be other ways, but there’s only one right way?” Or how many of us grew up maybe not being told that explicitly, but at least were never encouraged to seek other ways of being in relationship with God?

I believe that people long for meaning. And some stuff that is very meaningful to me is not going to be the slightest bit meaningful to you, and vice versa. And that’s okay. It’s not that my way is “right” and yours is “wrong,” it’s just that my way is meaningful to me and yours is meaningful to you. Unless, of course, someone’s way does harm to another - then that’s not okay. That way is wrong and it needs to be challenged.

When it comes to our relationship with the divine, our religion, who am I to say that the meaning you have discovered in your way is not right, just because it doesn’t work for me?

Is not God capable of relating to people in whatever way God chooses? Or would I dare to suggest a limit on God’s capacity to interact with the world? (Spoiler: No, I would not.)

And so listen up, Church. Listen to my friend Valerie. She wants to know that there are other ways to do it. She wants to discover her own unique relationship with God, not be told what it has to look like. She wants a relationship with God that means something to her, not necessarily the one any of the rest of us would find meaningful. And of course, she’s not the only one.

So, we have to quit insisting that one, narrowly defined, rigidly constructed way of being the church is the only way to do it. Our systems and structures have to be flexible enough to offer connection and community for a diverse collection of people, such that each one of us finds opportunities to encounter God in our midst.

There is more than one way to encounter God. There is more than one way to follow Jesus.

There is more than one way to be the Church.

A New President - Election Day 2016 Post #6

(Just a warning: I am a pastor, and I’m about to share an opinion that might be considered political. If you don’t think pastors should share political opinions, you might want to stop reading now.)

I did not think he would really run. And he ran.

I did not think he would really be nominated. And he was nominated.

I did not think he would really win the election. And he won.

I do not think he will really be able to implement his campaign promises.  And …

And for me it’s not only about the specific campaign promises he made, it’s about the tone he sets.

I did not think that a majority of voters would approve of that tone. And ... it actually turns out they didn’t.

It was close, but there were just over 200,000 more Americans who voted for Hillary Clinton than voted for Donald Trump (at the time of this writing). So there’s not a decisive victory, no clear mandate to advance his agenda. We are a starkly polarized country, and this election showed that very clearly.

Let me say this before I proceed. Although I did not support his campaign, I will respect his role as President of the United States.

And at the same time, I will hold on to what I know.

I know that bullying is wrong. I know that racism is wrong. I know that misogyny is wrong. I know that discrimination against people who are gay is wrong. I know that allowing fear to motivate your actions leads to terrible results.

I know that God is real. I know that every person is beloved. I know that we are different from one another, but no one is better than anyone. I know that evil, injustice, and oppression exist and need to be confronted. I know that love will always trump hatred.

I also know that not everyone who voted for Donald Trump this year shares his worldview. Far be it from me to use the same kind of prejudiced language about “the Trump voters” as he uses about “the Mexicans” or “the Blacks” or “the Muslims.” But here’s the deal - I’m going to need people in that category to join with me to speak with some pretty loud voices of condemnation if or when President Trump’s worldview impacts his actions as President.

Finally, I’m not lamenting today. I’m actually feeling, like my friend Greg says, “Bolstered.” I mean that sincerely. I can be rather conservative about certain things, but overall I am pretty progressive in my thought, my politics, and my theology. And while that puts me at odds with the prevailing governing authorities of the season, nevertheless I’m in fairly good company.

The way I see it, we are in the midst of an enormous cultural shift, and this year’s election was a sharp, sudden backlash to that shift. But the tide is still turning, this year’s results notwithstanding. This election has illuminated a lot of really dark places in our society, and that’s a really good thing. Now, with those dark places lit up, the fear, prejudice, racism, and other horrible stuff that usually hangs out there has no place to hide.

Every member of every United Methodist Church in America has promised to “resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves” as a part of our membership vows. Well, let’s get to it! We’ve got some work to do.

In the midst of new dimensions, in the face of changing ways.

Who will lead the pilgrim peoples wandering in their separate ways?
God of rainbow, fiery pillar, leading where the eagles soar,

We your people, ours the journey now and ever, now and ever, now and ever more.

Should the threats of dire predictions cause us to withdraw in pain,

May your blazing phoenix spirit, resurrect the church again.

God of rainbow, fiery pillar, leading where the eagles soar,

We your people, ours the journey now and ever, now and ever, now and ever more.

- Rev. Julian Rush, 1985

(I apologize to those who have read this and think it is unseemly for a pastor to have an opinion about things. To be fair, I gave you advance warning!)

Off Script

There is a script that we follow in the days and weeks following a mass shooting. That fact alone is awful. We have a script. So it goes.

And after Orlando, we are following our script perfectly well. Everyone is an expert. Everyone knows just what the problem is. And each of us is so quick to point out how everyone else is wrong and we are right. And then we yell at each other a while and nobody actually does anything and we all just wait for the next one.

Forgive the hyperbole. It’s just so … exhausting. In my head I understand that everyone will have a reaction and everyone is entitled to that reaction. We are emotional beings, and we cannot help but react with emotions filled to overflowing when tragedy happens. I try not to begrudge anyone their particular reaction to a national event like Orlando … or Roseburg … or Aurora … or Newtown … There is heartbreak. There is anger. There is grief. There is despair.

There’s a script - “It’s the guns. It’s mental illness. It’s radical Islam.” And this time, “It’s homophobia.” As if addressing "this issue" is a multiple choice quiz. As if we could just pick the “correct” answer and it will fix everything.

I find that when overwhelming circumstances threaten to stifle me, I need to return to the Lord in prayer and meditation. I need to refocus my mind on God, and remember who God is, and who God wants me to be. I need to re-order my thinking so that it more closely aligns with Christ’s. I need to attune my spiritual senses to the presence of the Holy Spirit.

I need to hush. I need to just be still. I need to listen for the divine whisper again. I need to go “off script” and allow God to guide me. I need time to process, to reconstruct, to learn.

And then, having taken that time, I need to act. I need to speak. I need to write. I need to be an ambassador of love, grace, justice, hope, peace. I need to work to make this world look more like God wants it to look. I need to offer Christ.

I invite you to go “off script” with me. To be still for a while and listen for God’s whisper. And then to act graciously, on God’s guidance. Speak up on behalf of love. Work for peace. Confront injustice, oppression, and discrimination. Strive to be the church that God desires. Offer hope. Offer Christ.

"Spiritual But Not Religious"

On Thursday, April 28, 2016 at 4:45 p.m. I posted the following question on Facebook and Twitter: “What do you think it means to say, ‘I’m spiritual but not religious?’”

Fifty-one people responded, and here are their answers, which I found to be absolutely fascinating! I’m compiling them here with the thought that they need to be more widely read than just my social media feeds. There is something really, really cool happening in these responses. Give it a read, and if you have your own answer, feel free to add it in the comments.

- What do you think it means to say, “I’m spiritual but not religious?”

B.W. Freese: I think "spiritual but not religious" means no practices which connect with the holy.

Rob Barringer: I think it means, "I don't go to church."

Elizabeth Perry Wilcox: I tend to hear this from people who believe in God, but do not go to church or participate in organized religion.

Andrew Jones: I love you, but I don't want to marry you. I want all of the benefits of a relationship with God without the responsibility, accountability, or commitment.

Brad Bryan: Means, I'm neither. I'm cynical. But, in my experience, most people I have known that say this are not what I would describe as spiritual. I mean, not really.

Zak McIntyre: Trying to connect with a higher power but not yet seeing how a church fits into that.

Todd Scranton: In my experience it can mean a lot of things. Sometimes it means "I've been burned by the church, but I still have some semblance of my faith left that I'm struggling with." Sometimes it means "I've outgrown the narrow parameters of the faith I was raised with, but I haven't done the work of figuring out what I DO believe." Sometimes it means "I sometimes feel something, but I don't know what it is, and don't have anyone I trust to help me figure it out." And sometimes it means "Get away from me you pushy religious person." The thing I know it DOESN'T mean is "Please, scorn me from the position of your religious community's understanding and treat me like some kind of immature slacker."

June Clark: I have wrestled with this question. As best I can decipher it, this means that the person believes in a higher power of some kind but is not sure how that looks.

Valerie Kistler Miller: A belief in God but not the church as a collective entity.

Susan March: Unsure of what "God" means but still possibly open to seeking. Religion represents 'judgement', so definitely not religious!

Emily Stirewalt: Hurt by organized religion.

Michael Stanfield: It is a statement made by people who feel the pull of God, but are frightened by "Church". Christians, as a collective body, tend treat others as morally inferior. While professing faith in Jesus (a Man who spent his entire ministry preaching tolerance and understanding and dining with prostitutes and lepers) they support agendas that create division, oppression and fear. Christians, as a collective body, tend to be wildly hypocritical and some of the least tolerant humans on the planet. Your statement allows them to say they feel God without having to put that "label" of religion on themselves. Watching how a lot of "Christians" act, I can't blame them.

Bob Maffitt: I think it often means I am afraid to totally deny that God exists, but I do not want to commit my time or money to supporting a church, helping others or learning about Biblical concerns that may be contrary to how I want to live life my life. Just some thoughts.
            Linda Lightner Hobbs: Bob, I think you hit the nail on the head so to speak.

Seth Dylan Hunt: Spiritual is what you own and religion is the construct under which you practice or speech on spirit. That's always been my take.

Owen Smith: Believing in God, but not feeling welcome or comfortable with any local congregation/gathering they know of. May be a cop-out to being active or committed to serve or even attend a church.

Bob Edwards: Not sure. I hope it means that they pray but sometimes spiritual people are not believers.

Mark Hansche: I think it means that they sense the Divine spark that is in all of us, but they have no foundation on which to allow the Holy Spirit to turn that spark into a flame. They're drifting.

Cindy K Day Hauk: I believe when someone says they are spiritual but not religious is they may lack the personal relationship with Christ and His followers.

Joan Cotton DeBoe: Belief in a higher power but uninterested in "being subject to" an organization that expects a particular response.

John Hampton Jr.: I hear "I don't trust the church". Many I've spoken to (so this is just anecdotal) share in their assertion of spiritual, not religious an almost agnostic approach to God; but they share a feeling that the church is corrupt. They'd rather go through life finding God than have some church tell them who God is. I wish I had a better way of telling them that at least we in the UMC are doing the same thing they are.

Dorothy Drago Brucks: They like to hummmmm.

Nathan Cornelius” That is someone whom the church as a business has "turned off"

Ben Mulford: I'm surprised no one has said it means "I'm okay with burning in hell." Not that I think that, but I could imagine a deeply "religious" person responding that way.

Doug Cannon: I think being spiritual, but not religious, is becoming commonplace. Many people have been spiritually abused in a church, and don't want to be a part of a large group on Sunday morning. These people have a connection with God in their hearts, but don't feel the need to share that connection with others.  As stated before, many are turned off by some church they've visited. Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was what the pastor said. Maybe it was not being made welcome when they walked in. People who have experienced this have chosen to worship their God in different ways. I think this is becoming more & more the norm. "Church" can mean many things. I've had church alone on a forest. I've had church with 5000 others.

Chris Snyder: I don't know but there are days I worry I am religious and spiritual.

Niki Parrish Scott: I think it means someone has been hurt in some way & may be afraid of being hurt further by a "structure" that should actually be doing the opposite.
I fear we underestimate it as a cop out or whatever you'd like to call it. I'd like to see a way to communicate without "the church" becoming defensive.

Joy Perry: I have always thought that it was a comment made by someone who has been hurt by the church or who is fed up with the politics of the church. Another possibility is someone who has seen too many hypocrites there. They believe in God, but don't feel they need organized religion.
            June DeWeese: I agree totally with what Joy wrote. That would be the case with the person whom I know. Except where she wrote " or" I would write "and"......

John Schmalzbauer: Agree with much of what has been said. People hurt by "organized religion" and disaffected with congregations. I think there is also an element of American individualism. Jefferson said "I am my own sect." Saying you're spiritual but not religious is analogous to being political without voting. Many studies show Americans are disaffected with institutions, including the church, the government, business, and the news media. A lot of this is because institutions have let us down.

Megan Hammer Lucy: I agree with all the above, but would also say that while sometimes people are turned off by being treated poorly by church goers but still like the ideas of Christianity, that sometimes it can be the other way around, too. People can be turned off by things like the way the Bible talks about women, or the way church doctrine addresses LGBT people but still feel connected and loved by Christians in a way that makes them feel spiritually connected to the community. At least that's the way I feel sometimes. I find myself frustrated by the "written policies" of the church and even the Bible sometimes, by the goodness and love of God's people draws me back.

Kathryn Smith: And there are those who say they can be closer to God on the golf course or on lake.

Wyn Andrews: I think it's indicative of someone who has been hurt by church. I used to say this about myself. Religion has been deeply problematic throughout human history, and it's not unreasonable to want to separate oneself from that. Of course, as a regular church goer (I used to say that even though I went to church every week. I still do.) I believe in the positives that an open and affirming congregation can offer to members, local communities, and the world. But, I don't think it's helpful to criticize this statement - not that you are, Andy, but I've seen some troubling comments here that, in my experience, will keep people from wanting to embrace going to church.

Dan Bohannon: The "religious" follow rules and people and are usually are viewed as less tolerant of other "religions" or people who follow a different path. The "spiritual" follow a perception of a "higher power" or their own bliss or something, anything they feel doesn't put them in the religious category. They may feel they are less judgmental and more tolerant than their religious friends.

Margie Lutjen Briggs: I think of religious people as Bible thumpers, the rules and regulations, flowing robe kind of people. Spiritual people are deep in faith and trusting with their walk. I guess I feel that being religious one must talk about the rules and see to it everyone follows them like they believe they should be followed. The kind that would use the Bible as weapon. A person who is spiritual tries their best to be full of love and grace.

Julia Essman: I don't know if it's been stated but I know one person I talked to recently said that their definition of their spirituality was listening to the feeling that come to them and in general letting fate take its course type of a thing. The way they described it sounded along the lines of agnostic, but with "following the path that is put before them" thrown in... I don't have a personal definition of "spiritual not religious" because I don't know enough about it. That's just from the conversation I had recently.

Maureen Glynn McNeil: I think it's a copout.

Thomas T. Sanders: Not much. I mean, it doesn't seem to me to be a statement which intends to communicate much, but more likely block or cut off communication about the subject.

Patsy Rhodes: I've been told I answer certain questions the way I do because I'm Spiritual. But to me, I say I'm Spiritual because of experiences I've had and visions I've seen. That's probably not what’s the correct way to describe a Spiritual person, but who is to determine what's correct and what's not.

Andrea Young: This has been a very good question. To me it could be like the chicken and the egg. I feel the spirit of God within me but yet I am not versed well in the religious teachings of the bible. I cannot quote scriptures and I don't know which testament is which sometimes. I cry every time I pray because I am so moved by the spirit of God. Someone might ask how can I know God if I do not know the bible? Which came first, Spirit or Religion? I only know what I feel
            Whispering Pine: So, Andrea, what holds you back from studying more and exploring that which is moving in you? Why not seek understanding and wisdom?
            Patsy Rhodes: Andrea, I understand and respect you for what you so eloquently Posted. You spoke for me too. No one can believe in and love God, Jesus and The Spirit more than me, and I am not well versed, as you stated, in the Bible. I had tears when I read how you cry every time you pray. I know and believe in them because I survived and experienced them and their love in real life.

Hector Eduardo Bousson: "I'm confused but I want to sound smart while saying it."

Chris Mixson: Spiritual= Individual / Religious=Part of something bigger than me.

Terry Hammer: There is a mindset which allows a person to believe they can live a Godly life without actually engaging with other people and the broken world. It is a very alluring proposition-much safer and less messy, but it is also a false premise. What if Christ had not engaged with the world?

Marti Fort: I have wondered that many times. Maybe they don't think they fit in to the church establishment.

Bo Tucker: God is moving you to take action outside the walls of the church.

Debby Peebles: My sister - you practice yoga, you read spiritual books, but you don't go to church unless maybe the yoga class is there

Pat Barker Auston: I believe it is possible to be both spiritual and religious. Spiritual - feeling within self, religious - going to a church and becoming an active member of that religion. So can you be religious and not spiritual? Yes, but missing one of the most important parts of religion, spirituality . Can you be spiritual and not religious? Yes, but missing fellowship.

Sonseeahray Hodge: A "personal walk with God" is just that. Personal. You don't have to be hurt by a church community, or follow a daily doctrine to have that relationship. When someone says that they are spiritual, it means that they have not found a church community that regularly adheres to values that they believe reflect their vision of what God wants. People within church communities don't realize that they truly speak another language, "church talk" that is very isolating and at times even appears ridiculous to people that are not within that community. When those outside the church community see this language, the hierarchy of members and see church members failing to follow their own doctrine...they ask themselves why would they want to be a part of that and why would they need that in their personal relationship with God? Religion is a practice, if that practice does not entirely reflect your spiritual belief then you do not need to be a part of it.

Lawrence Kyle Hern: I think it means that God's location has changed.

Ashley Hicks: I am actually one of those people. I'm sure the definition is different for each of us so I will only speak for myself. I believe in God, I pray, I was raised in the church which was a wonderful experience and shaped who I am as a person. That being said, my personal beliefs as I've grown don't really fit into one specific religion so I don't feel right identifying with one. Many of my beliefs overlap with a variety of religions so I tell people I'm spiritual because I guess I don't really know how to define it. Life = love for me.

More Powerful Than You Can Possibly Imagine

Questions of life and death are at the heart of the Gospel. What happens to us when we die? Is there “life” after death? What does that postmortem life look like? In light of one’s belief about the “afterlife,” what is the meaning of this present life?

These are deep, penetrating, and important questions to ask. Christianity answers them with the doctrine of resurrection. It isn’t so much a life “after” death as a life without beginning or end. Resurrection points us to “eternal life,” which by definition couldn’t start at a particular point, or else it wouldn’t be eternal. Resurrection life is much more an entering into what already is, rather than starting something new.

That gives meaning to life in the present time, since Jesus invites people into eternal life right here and now. In John 17, Jesus says a prayer that helps to define what “eternal life” is. He says, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.”

The Gospel of John, then, defines eternal life as something Jesus gives. And what Jesus gives is knowledge of God.

Can it really be that simple? Is “eternal life” really just a relationship with God, given by Jesus?

In the first “Star Wars” movie, just before Obi-Wan Kenobi is defeated by Darth Vader, Kenobi says, “If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.” It is a line that is loaded with meaning. And I think it is a fitting description of the resurrection, as well. Resurrection life is undoubtedly “more powerful than we can possibly imagine.”

“Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.” (1 Corinthians 15:51-52)

Thoughts and Prayers

My thoughts and prayers are with the people affected by the San Bernardino shooting.

They truly are, even though I have no earthly idea what that even means. How can my prayers be “with” a group of people?

A prayer goes from me to God, and from God to me. What? Does it kind of make a detour over to California and hang out for a minute before drifting off to its intended target?

And what exactly am I praying? What possible prayer could I offer that would make any kind of difference in the life of a person whose sister or brother or mom or dad or son or daughter was just randomly shot and killed while attending a party with their coworkers? What?

My thoughts and prayers are feeling less and less thoughtful and prayerful these days.

“Pray that they will be comforted.”

But no, I do not want to pray for comfort; in fact I actually want to pray that we be deeply uncomfortable, shaken to our core at the callous violence that defines our nation. I do not want anyone to be “comfortable” with this.

“Pray that there will be peace.”

But no, I do not want to pray for peace; I want to pray for a level of righteous indignation to energize a movement of grace and love that sweeps across the world. I want our anger to empower a radical, revolutionary, incarnate love that stands up and shouts out, “NO!” to every evil in the world.

“Pray for an end to violence.”

But no, I have done that far too many times, and it really isn’t working. It pulls me toward theodicy when I start down that road. And I’m sometimes scared about how easy it would be for me to embrace a full on theodicy at any given moment. Like, really comfortably easy.

My thoughts and prayers are with the people affected by the San Bernardino shooting.

And I really do mean that. Sincerely. But my thoughts and prayers have been with so many different communities from so many different places around the world so many times, it has become rote. Meaning has begun to atrophy.

All the world’s a stage. Signifying nothing. And so it goes.

I hope you’re not mad at me for being so honest. I’m a preacher, after all. I’m supposed to be a source of answers, not more questions. But I just can’t. I’m being truthful, authentic, and hoping for grace. So please don’t be mad.

A politician tweets out “thoughts and prayers” and then gets cruelly attacked for it. This is what we’re upset about these days. Tweets. We live in a nation that literally made it illegal to research gun violence, let alone do anything about it. And we are mad about politician’s tweets.

It happened so slowly, that’s the thing. It happened so slowly that most of us didn’t even notice it. In the last 100 years our society has become gradually less and less appalled by violence. Every war moved us further away, and made the next one a little bit easier. Now we just don’t care at all. Sandy Hook Elementary proved that once and for all.

Oh, there were a few who noticed it was happening. They tried to tell us. They were duly labelled and ostracized. Some were even killed for noticing. The prophets of the 20^th century it seems had no more luck than the ones in the Bible.

Some say that things are no more violent today than ever, it’s just that we know about it today. Communication technology, they say, has spread knowledge into everyone’s smartphone, so we instantly hear about things that 20 years ago we wouldn’t have necessarily known.

I do not agree. I understand the premise of this reasoning, but I do not agree. We are fundamentally different today than we were 100 years ago. We’ve developed societal callouses and now we are simply numb. And you do not develop callouses suddenly, it happens over time.

My thoughts and prayers are with the people affected by the shooting in San Bernardino. Colorado Springs. Roseburg. Charleston. Fort Hood. Newtown. Aurora. Virginia Tech. Columbine.

Do you even remember Columbine?

The BBC now reports on mass shootings in the United States like CNN reports on car bombings in Iraq.

My thoughts and prayers …

No actually I do have a prayer for today. We sang it at church this past week. It’s a verse of a hymn.

“O come, Desire of nations bind all peoples in one heart and mind.

From dust thou brought us forth to life; deliver us from earthly strife.”

Do you recognize the words? It’s a verse of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.”

There’s a refrain to that song, a call to “rejoice.” Significantly it is the only time the song is in a major key. The verses are all minor, gloomy, sad, dark. And after that one major key “rejoice,” the song quickly returns to the minor, with a somber thought that Emmanuel isn’t here yet, but “shall come to thee, O Israel.”

Emmanuel isn’t here yet. No kidding. Because I’d really like for someone to “deliver us from earthly strife” right about now.

And as jumbled and rambling as they are, bordering on heresy and a product of great spiritual struggle, those are my thoughts and prayers.

I'm Back, And (Part 2) Something I Learned While I Was Away

Last February, when the Church Council approved my six-week long Spiritual Renewal Leave, I felt an immediate sense of relief. Just knowing that this mini-sabbatical was on the horizon was enough to give a little boost to my soul.

And now that leave is done and I’m back in the office, feeling rested, renewed, and grateful. I am so thankful to have a District Superintendent who insisted that I take some time away. I am thankful for congregational leaders who “get it” and gave me this time with their blessing. And I am inexpressibly thankful for a church staff that is so good at what they do that I didn’t have to worry about spending six weeks out of the loop.

So to everyone who made the last six weeks possible, “Thank you. I am deeply, deeply grateful.”

What did I do? Well, I rested. I spent time with my family. And I wrote.

The visible products of these six weeks are a book outline and the book’s first two chapters. I decided to write about what I have learned about following Jesus from being a foster dad. I hope to keep working and maybe have the book done by the end of this year.

The invisible product of these six weeks are a mind and heart that have been rested and renewed. I spent time with my family. I spent time alone. I camped. I read books. I floated down a river in a canoe with a dear friend. I skipped stones. I walked in the woods. I prayed. I thought about stuff. And the accumulative effect of this time away has been a tangible lightening of my spirit.

Walter Brueggemann introduced me to the idea of “the gods of insatiable productivity” in his book Sabbath as Resistance. Put in theological perspective, my Spiritual Renewal Leave vanquished the “gods of insatiable productivity” as I became reaquainted with the living God who builds sabbath rest into the act of creation itself.

It was good to be away - And now it is good to be back.

PART 2: Worship

I worshiped in five different churches during my leave. Some very different places: a big, established, traditional church; a “second site” location; a relatively new, contemporary congregation; a larger than large high-tech extravaganza experience; and a small, urban, guitar and piano, worshiping community ministry center.

And I learned something in these five worship experiences. But … I’m not sure if I really want to tell you what it was. See, it’s kind of heretical. If you only skim this post, you may misunderstand my point.

So I’m trusting you not to just skim this, but to really understand what I’m trying to say here. Okay? Deal? Then here it is:

Worship is ridiculous.

That’s about it, then. Somewhere in these last six weeks, I realized that the act of worship is the most ridiculous thing people do. Yes, that’s what I mean - “Deserving of or inviting mockery or derision.” And if your worship isn’t ridiculous, well then maybe it should be.

How would a worship service invite derision? A group of people shows up at a given time at a given place for a given purpose. And this group hasn’t gathered to watch something, like a show or a sporting event. This group has gathered to do something together. It is not an audience; it is a flash mob.

But unlike a flash mob, this worshiping group is not performing for other people. This group has the ridiculous notion that the audience for their performance is none other than the Creator of the cosmos. The groups actions are oriented toward God – the prayers, the singing, the praises are offered together to the One who formed life itself and exists beyond any human concept of time and space.

See what I mean? Ridiculous!

If you actually believe in a divine presence that knows all and sees all and is everywhere all the time, why in the world would One like that be listening in as your tiny collection of mortals stumbled through your rendition of “Amazing Grace?” As if your particular version of that song is any different from any of the other forty-seven thousand versions of it God hears on any given Sunday.

Whey would that all-powerful One who carves mountains and breathes gale force winds be watching your little puny arms lifting your inconsequential hands up in surrender? Why in God’s green earth would the Supreme Sovereign Force of the Universe think your organist’s prelude was worth anything or your on-screen announcements were especially meaningful or your little bite of bread and sip of juice had any power in it whatsoever or those people who came forward for prayer would get theirs answered because they were just that much closer or … ?

It’s actually quite ridiculous, when you really think about it.

It is ridiculous. And miraculous. And amazing and meaningful and transformative. In fact, worship is the single most significant event in the life of a local congregation.

The worship service forms the identity of the people by reminding us of who God is and who God wants us to be. You, as a member of the community, are a part of something that is greater than you, and greater than the sum of its parts. You dare to say out loud, “We are here! We are one! And the Spirit that unites us as one is here with us, all around us, all over us; we are in that Spirit’s midst.”

And not only you in that little place and time; you are a part of everyone else who is gathering in their own places and times for the purpose of worship, too. Wherever, whenever, however – you are one with the Body of Christ in all of its infuriatingly diverse incarnations.

To intentionally gather together in community, plan it, prepare for it, adjust your schedule for it, show up and engage it, not just watch it happen but be a part of it, and actually entertain the absurd notion that God is there with you, to remember who God is and then dare to say it out loud, to remember who God has called you to be and confess that you aren’t yet, and then to leave that place different than you were when you got there, hopeful, energized, ready … this is worship.

It’s pretty ridiculous, really. And I don’t know about you, but I for one am going to continue to be ridiculous as I worship God with every last breath I have in my body.

So, The Church Is a Mess...

There’s a new study out that reinforces a trend that has been on church leaders’ minds for years. It is a Pew Research Center report, and it verifies that the number of Americans who identify as “Christian” has dropped while the number of Americans who identify as “atheist,” “agnostic,” or “nothing in particular” has grown.

To be sure, over 70% of the population still says it is Christian, so we could still override a veto. But the trend is quite clearly a decline, and it has been for years.

Now, different church leaders will react to the trend in different ways, obviously. Lament, panic, resignation. But I’ll tell you what I think about it – I think it’s a good thing.

I have spoken to quite a few people who have left the church for one reason or another. As I’ve heard their stories, I have noticed a common theme: The church they left is not the church of my experience.

They are leaving a version of Christianity to which I have never ascribed. They are leaving a narrow and rigid form of church that bears little resemblance to the community of Jesus as I understand it. In other words, what they are leaving is an expression of the church that frankly I would leave, too, if I was a part of it.

And nine times out of ten, among the doctrines of the church they leave is included some variation of this idea: “There is only one way to be the church – our way.” And so when confronted with a church that they find void of meaning AND the idea that this is the only version of church there is, the only option is to leave.

The thing is, that’s NOT the only option.

There is a diverse spectrum of churches, of denominations, of congregations within denominations, of people within congregations. There is no “one-size-fits-all” when it comes to God, and so there is no “one-size-fits-all” when it comes to church, either.

Sure, it can be a confusing mess to sort through, trying to find a group of people to call your church. But the messiness is real. It’s the realest thing ever. It is truth. It’s people being people. It’s a beautiful mess. And sorting through the mess is most definitely worth the effort.

A significant problem is that we have spent too much time and energy insisting that church isn’t messy, that it shouldn’t be a struggle, that church is a neat and tidy proposition. The norms we project are actually false fronts, hiding turbulence and anger and doubt and fear. What a mess.

What a gorgeous, holy mess.

And so I do not lament that people are leaving. I’m not going to wring my hands and worry about the demise of the church. In fact, I celebrate the opportunity that arises. I am eager and excited to witness what the Holy Spirit is doing among the people who have left the church, what new expressions of faith are emerging, and what “church” is going to look like as we experience this messy, turbulent time together.

There are nicer things to call this mess, actually. Gil Rendle calls the present moment “our particular exodus,” a healthy journey through the wilderness to a new ecclesial identity. Phyllis Tickle says it is a “Great Emergence” similar to other historical “great” moments, like the protestant reformation, the east/west schism, and the monastic movement.

The only reason to lament people “leaving” the church is if your ecclesiology is so narrowly defined that it only contains your own personal understanding of what the “church” is. How dare we try to place such limits on what the Holy Spirit may be capable of accomplishing outside of the boundaries of what we think of as the church!

Instead, we who are the church should be celebrating the great work that God is doing in the world today, and asking how we might join in to help out! There's no need for us to be jealous of what God is accomplishing outside of the sphere of our understanding. The church is a mess, and I for one like it that way!

Everyone's An Angel?

God is still sending messages. God has spoken to human beings through all of history, and God is still speaking today.

The law was a message from God, sent through Moses. God spoke through the prophets of old, calling the nation to live worthy lives. God sent messages through the heavenly beings called angels, whose very name means “messengers.”

And ultimately, God embodied the message in Jesus. Jesus is the incarnate Word of God, the most complete expression of God’s message to the world. And after his resurrection, God sent the Holy Spirit to dwell in our midst, the ongoing presence of God with us even now.

And so, considering God’s ultimate expression in Jesus, considering God’s ongoing, unmediated presence with us .... are there angels any more? If God can speak to us directly in the Holy Spirit, what use is there for angels? Do they even exist?

Now some will answer, “Yes, absolutely. I know because I have seen for myself.” Others will say, “No way. Angels are myths.”

Still others will reply, “Maybe so, maybe not. I’m not really sure. Angels haven’t been a part of my experience, so I can’t say one way or the other.”

Wherever we personally fall on that spectrum, scripture does make one thing clear to all of us: we are to treat people as if each one is an angel (Hebrews 13:1-2). How would it change the way you looked at others if you thought to yourself, “What if he has been sent by God?” or “What if she has a message for me that God need me to hear?”

God is still sending messages, and it could come from ANYONE! There are definitely “Angels All Around.”

The First Schism: A Fable

“Pretty moon tonight,” said one, gesturing toward the sky.

“The moon is pretty,” said another, “but why are you gesturing like that?”

“Like what?” asked the first.

“With your palm up and all your fingers outstretched. The correct way to point at the moon is with one finger extended and your arm straight.”

“Actually it is more proper to do as I am, it reveals the moon ever so much more elegantly.”

“But look at your elbow, all bent like that. Just awful.”

“Well look at your finger. You have dirt under your fingernail, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

And they stopped looking at the moon so they could concentrate on what was wrong with the other's gesture.

“They now enjoy the moon itself instead of fighting over whose finger points to it most accurately, quickly, or definitively.” - Richard Rohr, in "Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life

Just then, two young lovers walked into the park. They noticed the old ones arguing, but they gave them not a second glance.

“Pretty moon tonight,” said one.

“Beautiful,” said the other.

And they danced together in the moonlight.

A Grace Embassy

I have frequently heard people say, “I love Jesus, but I don’t need the church.” It is a trendy notion these days. A video titled “Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus” was posted in January 2012; it has over 25 million views and people still leave numerous (mostly rude) comments every day.

It is illuminating that a response video titled “Why I Love Religion, And Love Jesus” has a mere 760,000 views. Clearly not quite as virally popular as the original. (Although this video also has similarly rude comments being posted daily.)

To tell you the truth, I often sympathize with the Pro-Jesus / Anti-Church point of view. Many times the one who holds such a view has been hurt, ostracized, judged, or otherwise treated quite poorly by someone in the church. This genuinely painful experience is then projected onto “the church” as a whole.

At the same time, I know that there are people who use the idea as a rationalization to perpetuate their own comfortable lives. Often the one who does so will use terms like “irrelevant” and “old-fashioned” to describe church. Following Jesus is relegated to a consumer-driven search for what works for me, what fits into my calendar, and what’s the latest fad being shared on pinterest.

In the first chapter of John, Jesus calls Andrew whose immediate response is to go and invite Simon to follow him, as well. Jesus then calls Philip, who immediately goes to Nathanael and invites him along, too. It seems to me that “the church” started forming pretty quickly after Jesus started calling. Maybe there’s something to the notion that Jesus didn’t really intend for us to try to follow him all on our own.

It is when the church forgets that we are supposed to be helping people follow Jesus and becomes something else - ANYTHING else - that we get into trouble. The church is neither a self-help group, a community action agency, a social club, nor a status symbol. And I would add, the church is not a disciple making factory, as many seem to think.

The church is the embassy of God’s grace in the world, and members of the church are Christ’s ambassadors. The church doesn’t have a mission; God has a mission. And it is for the sake of that mission that we are the church.