Who Do I "Speak For"?

I read this line in an article in the Springfield News-Leader this morning:

“All respondents except two, Campbell United Methodist Church and Emmaus, said they speak for their congregations, not just for themselves as leaders.”

Here’s the deal. The city of Springfield is making a rather awkward attempt to engage the question of whether to add sexual orientation to the city’s anti-discrimination language. A part of their process was a survey sent via email to pastors all around town; there was a link in the email that took me to the online survey.

One of the questions on the survey asked if I as the pastor “speak for the congregation.” I thought this was a no brainer - “Of course not. The congregation I serve speaks for themselves.” But apparently out of the 56 churches surveyed, there were only two who answered this way.

So let me tell you why I answered the way I did, a way that obviously places me well outside of the mainstream.

First of all, I know for a fact that people in my congregation think all kinds of different things about homosexuality. Obviously, there is more than just one way to see things. (Less obviously, there are more than just two ways to see things.) It is a myth that there is only one faithful Christian belief set; it is likewise a myth that there are only two. Faith rarely deals in either/or. Followers of Jesus are a diverse group, to say the least.

And so how could I possibly speak for my congregation when my congregation reflects such an array of opinions? Surely our society has matured beyond the glorification of homogeneity. Campbell UMC must be one of those rare congregations that has figured out how to love one another in spite of our differences of opinion. We feel that our diversity is a strength, and a part of our core identity as a congregation.

Secondly, it is tricky to make the claim that pastors truly “speak for” congregations in any context. I may be revealing my Methodist tendencies here, but nevertheless it remains that we are not Baptist, nor AG, nor any of the other pastor-centric structured churches around us. We are Methodist, and I for one am proud to claim a distinctly Methodist identity.

That means we are governed by conference. A group of people makes decisions at every level - the Charge Conference locally, through the Annual Conference, Jurisdictional Conference, and on through the General Conference for the denomination as a whole. No single person “speaks for” a Methodist entity at any level of our governance, and that’s the way I like it. Granted that it makes for some frustrating procedures and processes sometimes, but I believe the trade-off is worth it.

Thirdly, I need to say that my saying that I do not speak for my congregation does not indicate that I am a “moral relativist,” as some might fear. I believe what I believe, and draw upon the “Wesleyan Jazz Combo” (Scripture as the lead instrument, with tradition, reason, and experience as the rhythm section) to inform my theological reflection. I’m pretty confident in my belief that the Bible is clear in what it condemns with regard to sexuality, and a mutually loving and respectful, covenant relationship between two adults who are of the same gender is never condemned anywhere in Scripture.

And with that said, I am aware that there are some who agree with me, some who wholly disagree, some who sort of disagree but aren’t sure why, some who agree partly, some who haven’t really given it much thought, and a whole host of other opinions. And knowing this, I cannot in good conscience “speak for” the entire congregation on this particular question. All I can do is articulate my own belief and engage differences of opinion with respect and grace.

One could make the case that I am in fact speaking for the congregation as I describe it. I’ll go along with that. For example, when I make the claim that Campbell has figured out how to love one another in the midst of our differences, I am in a way “speaking for” the congregation. At the same time, I fully expect that someone who knows the congregation and doesn’t agree with me would call me on it if I said something nutty.

FYI, the other congregation, “Emmaus,” whose response was that they do not “speak for” the congregation, is described on the website as “led by a group of pastors - no single person is in charge.” They hope to create an “attitude of encouragement and accountability” in their ministry. Sounds pretty cool! Like something any congregation should strive for, in fact.

So I hope you understand my reasoning behind answering the way I did on the survey. It’s not that I do not feel I am a “leader” for Campbell UMC; it’s that I would never dream of “speaking for” a group of people who are perfectly capable of speaking for themselves, and doing so with grace, respect, and love.

Forgiving Yourself

Sometimes the hardest person for you to forgive … is you.

People tend to be quite gracious toward others, but incredibly hard on ourselves. Guilt, self-punishment, and second guessing one’s own actions are enormous burdens to try to carry through life. And often we can carry them around for years and years.

Why is learning how to forgive one’s self so difficult? Why does it seem to be so much easier to forgive others than ourselves? Why are we so hard on ourselves?

Dr. Joretta Marshall, professor of pastoral care at the Eden Theological Seminary says, “I think people often try to forgive themselves for the wrong things. We think we ought to forgive ourselves for being human and making human mistakes. People don't have to forgive themselves for being who they are.” (http://www.webmd.com/balance/features/learning-to-forgive-yourself)

In other words, it may be hard to forgive ourselves because it is hard to separate our identity from our actions. If you do something that harms another person, and you realize it, it is your action that needs forgiveness, not your identity. Learning how to forgive the action will often help release the burden on the self, and lead to healthier actions down the road.

Forgiveness does not condone your act; quite the opposite - forgiveness acknowledges that the act was wrong. And forgiveness does not altogether eliminate the consequences of your act; those consequences likely must still be faced, and forgiveness is what empowers you to face them.

To forgive yourself, then, is actually quite a selfless move to make. You acknowledge that you were wrong, begin to atone with those you harmed, and address the consequences unencumbered with guilt or self-loathing. It may be very difficult, but ultimately it makes a world of difference.

Yes, You May Move The Table

Last Sunday morning, one of the tables in Fellowship Hall was about ten feet out of place. Before worship as I walked by, I heard the people sitting at the table talking about it. They weren’t really griping, just having a good time. “Somebody moved our table!” they moaned.

In that “hardee har har” style of Sunday morning conversation that happens so often, they were discussing the possible reasons their table may have been moved, who may have moved it, and the inconvenience caused by the mysterious shifting furniture.

I couldn’t stop myself from chiming in, “You know, you could just sit there and complain about it; or you could hush up and move it back!”

It was light hearted and all in good fun, but I’ve been thinking about it for the past couple of days, and it has become something of a metaphor. I wonder: how often do people in the church think they need someone’s explicit permission to “move the table?” And moreover, how often do people in the church sit there and complain about the fact that “the table has been moved” instead of just getting up and moving it back? Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Once I was talking with the evangelism team of one of the churches I have served. I told them that I’d like to hear some ideas from them about ways they could equip the congregation to reach out into the community. “Like what?” they asked. I suggested something simple and common, like printing business-type cards for people to hand out to others.

There was a dramatic pause. And then the response, “We can DO that?”

Yes, church. You can do that. Move the table. Print the cards. Share the love. Do the stuff the church does. You do not need explicit permission to do the stuff that you should be doing anyway.

Occasionally I have noticed Communion servers standing there in the front after their section has all been served, and I’d swear they are looking directly at that person sitting in the wheelchair waiting for the bread and juice, but they absolutely will not go serve them until someone says specifically, “Will you please go serve them?” They know the person needs to be served, and they know that it is their job to serve them, but they need it stated explicitly. They need to be given permission.

Now, I understand where that comes from, to a point. People mostly like to know what the rules are, and mostly like to follow them. People don’t like to think they are doing something “wrong.” And so we can overcompensate, and not do anything at all. And then complain about how nothing is being done.

On the other hand, it is an absolutely JOY to see people who are doing church with focus, energy, and a sense of calling. Such people do not need the pastor to give them permission to do something, because the mission of the church has already given them permission. When ecclesiology shifts from maintenance of institutional structure to the people on God’s mission, it is a thing of beauty to behold. The Holy Spirit has given them the vision and energy, and the church itself has equipped them to engage in ministry that is powerful, fruitful, and meaningful.

There’s nothing a pastor likes more than to stand up and cheer for the church being the church. If you are a pastor who is doing it right, you discover things being done by your congregation rather than having to initiate everything yourself. What I would love is for every single person in the church to know with certainty that, if it supports the mission of the church, they have permission to do it. I would much rather have to help people dial it back a bit instead of having to crank it up in the first place, you know what I mean?

Think about the guys in Luke 5 who brought their paralyzed friend to Jesus for healing. Finding the doorway blocked with a crowd of people, they carried him up onto the roof and lowered him down through the ceiling, right in the middle of the crowd.

Notice, they did not ask anyone’s permission to do so. Their “mission” was to get that guy close to Jesus, and they were going to do whatever it took to accomplish that mission, even if that meant a highly … shall we say “unconventional” approach.

I wonder, if I was their pastor, would I have cheered for those men or would I have cringed at their approach?

Standing in that crowd, craning my neck for a glimpse of Jesus, would I have thought, “What the heck are those guys doing up there? They’re probably going to get in trouble for this! I’m sure the Board of Trustees has not approved this course of action!”

Or maybe, “Crud, I wish I had thought of that! Now let’s see, how could I finagle it so that I get the credit for this idea?”

Or, if I was those guys’ pastor, would I have been able to cheer for them, encouraging their commitment to the mission, affirming their unwavering focus on their friend’s need, and highlighting them so that others in the congregation would be edified by their example?

I want to be a pastor who doesn’t have to say, “Yes, church you may ‘move the table.’” Every single time. Just go ahead! You may. A thousand times you may.

Church, you have permission to be the church, and let me tell you, it doesn’t come from me.

Baby D, You Are Beautiful

Hey Baby D, I’ve got some stuff to tell you. You’re going back home tomorrow and so before you go I just want to make sure that you know some stuff. I might not get a chance to tell you this later on, so I’m going to tell you now, okay?

First of all, I love you very much. So does Mommy Erin and Cori and Wes and G-man. We love you so, so much. We think you are absolutely beautiful, in every sense! We’ve loved you ever since you were two days old, the day that we first met you and you came to stay with us for a little while. Now you are six months old, and we love you more than ever! And remember, we will love you for your whole life, no matter what.

And also, your Mommy and Daddy love you very much. They always have, and they always will. They had some really important stuff they needed to take care of before you could go to live with them, and now they’ve taken care of all that stuff and they are ready for you! Isn’t that great! They’ve seen you every single week of your life, and every visit they’ve loved you more.

Wow! You have so many people who love you. What a lucky boy you are!

Hey D, people are going to tell you that you look just like your Mommy. The first time I met her, I told her so. It’s true - you are your Mommy’s little boy, through and through. She’s kind of quiet and shy, but I get the feeling that she’s really strong, too. And beautiful, just like you! I know that she’s going to do her very best for you, and that you will learn a whole lot from her. She’s going to take care of you all the time now, so you be really nice to her, okay? Help her out.

Try not to spit up on her as much as you spit up on us. You are a very spitty baby. We tried and tried to figure out how to make you not spit up so much, but you were having none of it. At seemingly random times, and most often when there was no bib or burp rag available, and frequently all over a brand new shirt or pair of pants. It’s almost as if you planned your spit-ups for the most (least?) opportune moments. Not your most beautiful moments, perhaps.

You’re a strong little turkey, that’s for sure. You can hold your own weight on your legs; if you could figure out the balance thing you’d be standing on your own! You’re just about able to sit up by yourself, but we keep pillows behind you to catch you when you fall over. And hey, you can roll over now, every now and then, but it kind of makes you mad when you end up on your tummy and then you don’t know where to go from there.

Then there’s your hair, which tends to stick straight up. Look, I’m really sorry about that. At first, Mommy Erin thought it was cute so after your baths she made sure she dried it all sticking up crazy like that. And now even when we try to brush it down it just goes “boing” up in the air all over the place. I must confess though, it actually pretty cute. Beautiful, in fact. And it perfectly matches your personality. So maybe I’m not quite as sorry as I said before.

One thing that I hope never changes, Baby D, is your smile. When you smile your mouth opens so wide it looks like you are going to start singing! Your eyes twinkle and you’ve got this wonderful dimple in your cheek and your whole body sort of shakes and flails out of control. Feet, hands, head - you smile with your whole entire body, and it makes everyone who sees it really, really happy. It may be your most beautiful thing!

Sometimes I like to put my nose on your cheek, right by your ear. Then I wuffle my face back and forth and gently nibble on your neck. This never fails to crack you up. I try not to do it too often, and give you plenty of breaks. But you have to realize, it’s all for the sake of seeing you smile. I’m going to miss that smile.

Smile at your Mommy and Daddy a lot, okay? It will make them really happy, too.

Listen, I know that it is going to be kind of confusing right at the start. You’re going to wonder where we are and not have any idea even how to ask the question. That might make you kind of nervous or anxious at first, while you’re still getting used to living with your Mommy and Daddy all the time.

I think you’ll especially wonder where G-man is. And he’ll wonder the same thing about you. You’ve shared a room for the last six months, after all. That’s your whole entire life, and one quarter of his! He’s your best buddy.

G loves you so much, and even though you can’t say it yet, it is obvious that you love him. You two boys play with each other all the time, on the living room floor, on our bed, in your room. He calls you “Koka,” and he tries to give you your binky when you don’t really want it, and the throws toys at you sometimes, and he likes to pat your head which often knocks you over, and he lies down beside you on the floor and looks at your face and laughs, which then makes you laugh and that makes him laugh even more. You adore him. Quite often just as we are calling out to G to tell him he’s being too rough with you, that’s just when you laugh with delight. Oh well.

The G-man is going to miss you, Baby D.

But here’s something. Your Mommy says that she wants us to come and visit you sometimes, and maybe you can come visit us, too. We will try to stay in touch with her, so she can call us whenever she wants to.

Yeah, I know. It’s not going to be the same. But that’s how it goes, isn’t it? Here’s something I really want you to know: Things change. That’s what happens when you live; people grow, people change, people learn, people move, people leave. We can never keep things just like they are; that’s not really living, is it? Whatever happens, we’ll still love you, though. That’s a promise.

Sometimes people tell us that they could never be foster parents because they’d love the kids too much to let them go. What they don’t understand is that the number one reason that we’re “letting you go” is exactly because we love you so much. Loving another person means that you want what is best for them, even if it makes you kind of sad. Even if it breaks your heart, in fact.

And so we’re not really “letting you go.” We’re sending you home, to live with your Mommy and Daddy, because that’s where you need to be. We will always, always, always be here for you if you need us. And we love you forever, no matter what.

You are beautiful.

Some Marital Thoughts

I have been following a public conversation here in Springfield that has been rekindled by the proposal to amend the city’s anti-discrimination stance to include sexual orientation and gender identity. In many ways the conversation has been a reiteration of the same arguments we’ve been having for years and years. And so I’ve been content to let the conversation play out without comment.

But something I read this morning snagged my attention, and I think that it is noteworthy. Dr. George Wood, General Superintendent of the Assemblies of God, wrote a letter to the editor that appeared this morning. It is unremarkable for what it says, in that it essentially restates the basic anti-gay marriage arguments, adding nothing new to the conversation.

However, it is remarkable for what it omits. I have read the letter a half a dozen times, and I cannot find any mention of procreation anywhere.

For years and years it has been one of the core arguments of the anti-gay marriage position that marriage must be a heterosexual relationship because the fundamental purpose is procreation. Why would Dr. Wood omit it from his public contribution to the current discussion? In fact he goes so far as to list off Genesis 1:26 and 1:27 to lend support to his position, but omits 1:28, which is the “be fruitful and multiply” verse.

Dr. Wood offers the following as his definition of marriage: “God creates and commends marriage as the sexual union of a man and a woman.” In this new definition of marriage, Dr. Wood leaves in the sex but doesn’t mention the babies. Perhaps he has done so as a concession to heterosexual couples who cannot or choose not to have children.

For the record, I strongly disagree with the definition of marriage as merely a “sexual union.” My definition includes the ideas of covenant and partnership and mutual respect and love. I define marriage as a life-long, covenant relationship between two adults who have promised one another to care for each other with mutual love and respect for ever and ever, no matter what happens. I simply cannot concur with the thought that marriage is all and only about sex.

I’m doubtful that anything else new will come out of this latest public discourse on the issues surrounding homosexuality, but I’ll keep my ears open. If I do hear anything else noteworthy, I’ll most likely have a comment or two to add. 

In the meantime, I'd like to ask a question. Do you consider marriage to be a "sexual union?" Feel free to answer either in the comments or on Facebook.

Church Membership: Part 3 - "Fight the Power"

Personally, I blame the Baby Boomers.

Though that statement works for any number of topics, I apply it in this case to the degradation of church membership. No offense. Don’t take it personally, and all that jazz.

Those who were in their teens and twenties during the 1960s developed a pretty substantial anti-institutional attitude. It was all “fight the power” and “stick it to the man” and so on. Then they became forty and fifty year olds in the 1990s, and began assuming leadership roles, including in the church.

The movement of the boomer generation back to church in the late 80s and 1990s is fairly well documented. A part of that movement brought with it the residual distrust of institutional structure. This created a tension within and around the church. How do people who are geared to “stick it to the man” talk about being a part of something like the church? What does “membership” mean anymore?

Many have dismissed “membership” altogether, reasoning that it is not necessary to support an institution by joining it in order to be a follower of Jesus. This sentiment is expressed vividly with slogans like “Spiritual but not religious” or “I love Jesus but I hate the church.”

Congregations compensated by minimizing their denominational connections, sometimes quite dramatically. The denomination logo is on the sign, but it’s tucked away down in the corner where you have to squint to find it.

Many creative, innovative, and vibrant expressions of church have emerged as a result of the rejection of the institution. From cowboy church to hip hop worship services, unique, independent faith communities popped up with amazing energy, and it was a wonderful thing to witness. In many ways, the definition of church has been forever altered, and I applaud the change.

I’d like to think we live in a “post-anti-institutional” time. (Aren’t I cool? I put the word “post” in front of a term. Hipster me.) In other words, I believe we’ve moved beyond the animosity of “I love Jesus but hate the church.” We’ve realized how naïve that viewpoint is, I think. I hope.

To be sure, there are still those who value the institution of the church over the mission. These tend to be status quo kinds of people who are reticent to change. And at the same time, there are still those who tilt at the windmill of the institution, though that battle really doesn’t need to be fought any more.

I say that because I believe it.

It isn’t attractive to “stick it to the man” when “the man” is a dysfunctional, antiquated, irrelevant hairball of bureaucracy that means next to nothing in the world today. Anyone who pays any attention to the General Conference and Judicial Council of the United Methodist Church should be aware of that. And every denomination has its own parallel, I’m sure. Railing against the institution at this point is almost bullying.

All that is to say that I’m trying to reclaim “membership” as an idea that is helpful, healthy, and conducive to helping people become followers of Jesus who are changing the world for God’s sake. Remember? The mission? Being a member of a church isn’t about supporting the institution. If it ever was, it shouldn’t have been. Being a member of a church is about confessing the need for support and accountability in our corporate Christian discipleship.

On Sunday, a lifelong church member came to me and asked about the congregation’s budget. I told him that the document was available if he wanted to take a look. No, he said, I don’t need to see it, I was just wondering “if the church needed me to give some more to support the budget.”

Old school. Notice the ecclesiology - I’m not a part of the church; the church is an external group that needs me to support it. Being a member to this older member still means institutional support.

I told him, “We don’t talk about giving in terms of supporting a budget. Our gift is a proportional response to God’s gifts to us.” He got it. And I think that makes sense to people, once it sinks in. The transformation does take some time, however.

Any time you gather a group of people together, it gets messy. But gathering together sure beats trying to go it on your own. It’s hard to follow Jesus all by yourself. Lacking support, one tends to burn out. Lacking accountability, one tends to wander aimlessly. People gather together to become church to avoid those pitfalls. Will there be conflict? Yes. Will there be struggle? Of course. Will personalities clash? Yep. It is inevitable, in just about any group that gathers.

Why would I encourage anyone to join a church? Honestly, I wouldn’t. My mission is to encourage people to follow Jesus, and the support and accountability that church membership provides seems to me like the best way to do that. When church membership is done well, it is a truly beautiful relationship to behold. 

(This is Part 3 of a 3 part series on church membership. Part 1 is called "Support and Accountability" and Part 2 is called "Why Bother.")

Whatever Kind of Love, Take Care of Each Other

Simon, do you agapao me more than these?

Yes, I phileo you.

Simon, do you agapao me?

Yes, I phileo you.

Simon, do you phileo me?

Yes, I phileo you.

This is a watered down version of the series of three questions Jesus asks Simon Peter in John 21:15-17. For each of the Greek words I’ve italicized, the NRSV translation is “love.”

So, at one time I thought that the point was in the repetition. Jesus asked three times to counteract the three denials, and Peter was hurt because Jesus had to ask him three times if he loved him, as if Jesus didn’t trust his first two answers. It was the number of times Jesus asked that was at the heart of the passage.

Then I learned Greek, and saw that the first two times Jesus asked, he used a different word than he did the third time. Jesus asked with “agapao” the first two times, and “phileo” the second time. So I thought it was the fact that Jesus changed the meaning, from a self-sacrificial abiding love to more of a mutual friendship kind of love. And that is why Peter was hurt, because he realized he didn’t love Jesus the way Jesus wanted him to.

And then I read some commentaries, many of which say that John used the words agapao and phileo as synonyms throughout his Gospel, and that’s how they were being used here. So it was back to thinking that it was the number of times Jesus asked that hurt Peter, not the content of love.

And then I realized that it isn’t two different questions Jesus asks - it is three. The first question includes the phrase “more than these.” Jesus doesn’t just change the question between #2 and #3; he changes each question. The exegetical move I have made here is: it doesn’t matter how John uses the two different terms elsewhere. What matters is how he is using them here.

If I might paraphrase the three questions:

1) Do you have a selfless and abiding love for me more than you do for anyone or anything else?

          Simon: Jesus, you're like a brother to me!

2) Well, do you at least have a selfless and abiding love for me?

          Simon: Yeah, well, you're like a brother to me, man.

3) Okay, so do you love me like you would love a brother, then?

          Simon: Yep. I suppose so. 

See, I do not think we have to choose between Peter being hurt by the triple repetition and Peter being hurt by the changing questions. I think it is quite possible he is hurt by both. He is hurt because he realizes that he does not have the kind of love for Jesus that Jesus asks of him.

And whatever the question, whatever the response, Jesus’s comeback is, “Take care of people.” Feed them, tend them. Be a shepherd for the flock, lambs and sheep alike. Take care of people.

In other words, whatever your relationship with Jesus looks like, the corresponding call is going to be the same. We’re supposed to take care of each other. Whatever kind of love (or not) we have for Jesus.

Take care of each other.

Church Membership: Part 2 - "Why Bother?"

A friend of mine comes to worship at our church when she’s not out of town for work. She’s gung-ho about mission and service, and has served with tireless compassion and dedication on several mission trips.

But she hasn’t joined the church. She’s not a “member.” When I ask her about it, she says that since she’s out of town so much for her work, she isn’t able to be here as much as she would like to. And if she can’t make the commitment, she isn’t going to join.

I cannot begin to tell you how much I respect her for that!

Nobody should ever pressure a person to join a church. It’s something a person chooses to do. My friend worships, serves, gives; from outward appearances she seems like one of the most active members of the congregation. But she hasn’t become a member of the congregation because the circumstances of her life do not allow her to make the kind of commitment she wants to make.

Being a member of a church is about “want to” - not “have to.” Why bother becoming a member? Quite simply, because you have chosen to follow Jesus, and subsequently you have realized that by yourself you cannot do so. You need some people to help you. And in return for their help, you will offer yours to them.

Because the fact is, it isn’t easy to follow Jesus. C.S. Lewis puts it this way: “If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.” The Gospel is challenging, and the call to follow is rarely a call to comfort.

You may ask: Well, if it’s not a “have to” kind of situation, why would anybody “want to” then?

I may respond: Because life is supposed to be meaningful, and following Jesus is what provides that meaning.

I heard Donald Miller say recently that deep down people do not actually want to live lives that are successful; people want to live lives that are meaningful. I’ve been pondering that idea ever since.

People find meaning from all kinds of sources. Career. Status. Family. Science. Baseball. Star Wars. Helping people. Hurting people. Just about anything can provide a person with a sense of purpose, a foundation for life. But much of it is transient, and provides only a temporary touch point.

I think there is innate in people something that seeks to transcend. We seem to have been hardwired with an inkling that there is more to the world that what is apparent on the surface. And along with that inkling is the suspicion that the “something more” is what infuses life with meaning.

Jesus is speaking directly to that inkling when he says, “Follow me.” Initially there is a sense that maybe, just maybe, this way could lead somewhere. There’s a small nudge, a kind of hesitant but eager desire to see what might happen. When the way is walked well, with the love and support and encouragement of other followers of the way, it doesn’t take too long for the confirmation to come. Life means something. There is purpose, there is vision, there is a mission to undertake and good friends with whom to undertake it.

Last night, the Chamber Choir from Kickapoo High School came to our church to sing at a fundraiser concert for a mission trip. Now, I don’t know the faith backgrounds of all of the kids who were here. I don’t know what the “believe” or even if they do. But I know that nobody required them to be here, to give a couple hours of their weekend away like they did. They were here because they chose to be here, and they chose to be here because a member of their choir is also on the mission team hosting the fundraiser, and she asked them to be here.

Whether it was to show support for their friend, or because they wanted to help fund the mission trip to Kenya, or just because they love to sing together - they chose to be here because it meant something to them. Their presence here was not because their director required it; he wasn’t even here! It was because the experience was meaningful.

In the same way, a person chooses to be a member of a congregation. Not because someone requires it. Not because it is expected. Not because you will be graded at the end of the quarter, and this stuff is going to be on the quiz.

You choose to “show up” and be a member of a church because you want to follow Jesus, and doing so infuses life with transcendent meaning.

(This is Part 2 of a three part series on church membership. Part one is called “Support & Accountability.” The working title for part three is “But What About the Jerks?”)

Church Membership: Part 1 - "Support & Accountability"

I got to teach confirmation class yesterday. During the class I said, “At the end of these classes you are going to make a choice about whether or not you want to become a member of the church. Nobody is going to force you. It’s going to be your choice.

“And let me tell you, if you don’t have any intentions to do the stuff that church does, you probably shouldn’t join. That’s how seriously I take church; that’s how important it is to me.

“If you aren’t going to worship every week, be active in a small group, give proportionately, serve those in need, and invite others, then you might think about waiting until you’re ready to do that before becoming a member of the church.”

Why would I encourage people to join a church?

Honestly … I wouldn’t.

The truth is, I encourage people to follow Jesus, and if joining a church is the best way for them to do that, brilliant. I’ve heard plenty of people say, “I don’t need to be in a church to follow Jesus.” Who am I to argue? I wouldn’t dare limit the capacity of God to work outside of the parameters of church membership.

There are only two reasons to become a member of a church: support and accountability. Both of these functions are focused on the church’s mission - helping people become disciples of Jesus who are changing the world for God’s sake.

I do not find it easy to be a disciple of Jesus Christ by myself. The church is a group of people whose mission is (in part) to help me in my discipleship.  Their purpose for existing is to help people (like me) follow Jesus. That’s a staggering thought.

And it’s reciprocal. At the same time my membership means that I’ve promised to help others in their discipleship, as well. That means we support one another and hold one another accountable to our task - making the world a better place, a place that looks a lot more like God wants it to.

If you need neither support nor accountability in your discipleship, don’t join a church.

I’m serious. If you and God are just fine without being a part of a church, don’t join one.

And if you are not going to help people become disciples changing the world for God, then don’t join.

And if you are not going to accept the help being offered you in your own discipleship, don’t join.

Said another way: if you are not going to do the stuff that churches do, you maybe shouldn’t join one.

The church exists because the mission exists, and all the church does ought to be geared toward that mission. Every activity should be aligned with supporting discipleship.

And what does that support look like? Nothing revolutionary here, plenty of books written on the topic, plenty of bishops preaching to congregations on the subject - it looks like

- worship together every week,

- being a part of a small group for growth and fellowship,

- giving proportionately of your income,

- serving others by helping people who need help, and

- creating a culture of invitation and hospitality.

These practices are a congregation’s offer of discipleship support and accountability to people. If you’re not going to accept that offer, you probably shouldn’t join a church.

“But Andy, I don’t do that stuff, and God and I are doing fine. Why you gotta be a hater?”

Again, let me assure you that I have no desire to limit what God is capable of doing outside of the church. I intend no judgment one way or the other; church membership is not “good” or “bad.” It is simply “helpful,” for me and for many others, in providing support and accountability for Christian discipleship.

At the same time, I cannot call a pattern of life Christian discipleship if it really isn’t. If it quacks like a duck, it probably isn’t a toothbrush. In order to clarify what I mean when I say Christian discipleship, let me make five distinctions.

DISTINCTION ONE:

First, I’d make a distinction between weekly worship and what I’d call “occasional” worship: once a month, once every six weeks, once and a while. It seems that we often try to fit worship into our schedules, rather than ordering our entire week around worship. Whether its sports, work, or a weekend at the lake, worship just slips down the priority list and we tend to become occasional worshipers rather than weekly.

DISTINCTION TWO:

There is a clear distinction between intentional small group participation and the frenetic activity and hyper-scheduled lives we tend to lead. Participation in a small group is where the deepest growth in discipleship happens, specifically with regard to two practices: faith formation and fellowship with others. But in order to grow deeply, we have to slow down, create time and space for the Spirit to move, and truly be present with a regular small group. When we are rushing from there to here and back again, there’s no chance to experience that level of growth.

DISTINCTION THREE:

When it comes to our generosity, there’s a big difference between giving “proportionately” and giving “conveniently.” Proportionate giving is sharing a percentage of one’s income with the church each pay period, with the Biblical 10% tithe as the goal. On the other hand, giving “conveniently” looks like dropping a bill or check (with a random amount always ending in five or zero) in the plate on those occasional worship Sundays. With electronic giving options, these days it’s easier than ever to give proportionately. (And we could have a whole discussion about whether that’s a good thing or not!)

DISTINCTION FOUR:

There’s a distinction to be made between serving “out there” in the community and serving one’s self. It’s as clear as the distinction between selfless and selfish. I see a lot of the church serving only the church, or the family, or the self. Not that there’s anything wrong with that inherently, but the kind of service Christ calls for is clearly “out there,” in the community, where it is risky and uncertain and you might get hurt. Christian service ought to make the world a better place for God’s sake, or said another way, contribute to the construction of the reign of God on earth.

DISTINCTION FIVE:

Finally, we need to make a distinction between a culture of invitation and a culture of comfort. A culture of comfort focuses inwardly and we tend to be withdrawn, awkward with, or even hostile to strangers. Christian discipleship requires a culture of invitation, in which the church is out and about in the community, involved with groups and activities that allow us to make friends with people who are not a part of a church. A culture of invitation does not have proselytizing the heck out of people as its goal, but rather the goal is just to become friends with people. Period. God will take care of the rest.

(To be continued. The working title for part 2 of this post = “Then Why Bother?”)

Doubt is Holy

It’s one of those phrases from scripture that is so well known it has become a part of the common vocabulary - “Doubting Thomas.” Problem is, it’s a misnomer.

Stick with me for a while here…

There is a word that means “doubt” in New Testament Greek. It’s diakrino, and it’s found a few times here and there in the New Testament, like Matthew 21:21 where Jesus says, “If you have faith and do not doubt, you could say to the mountain, ‘Get up and jump in the ocean,’ and it would.”

That’s a word John might have chosen if he had wanted it in chapter 20, and John never wasted a word. The word John used in chapter 20 verse 27 is not diakrino, though. It is apistos. That’s the word pistos, or “faith,” with the prefix a-, meaning “without.”

For those of you who are Greek Geeks, we’re talking about the phrase μὴ γίνου ἄπιστος ἀλλὰ πιστός, in verse 27.

The NRSV and the NIV both have Jesus saying to Thomas, “Do not doubt, but believe.”

The King James Version actually gets this one much closer to right when it translates the phrase, “Be not faithless, but believing.”

I might translate it, “Don’t be faithless; be faithful.”

So what?

If you’ve skimmed the first few paragraphs, I hope you’ll start reading now. This is the “So what” of that little linguistic exercise.

Too many people think that following Jesus doesn’t leave you any room to doubt. “Doubting Thomas” is never intended as a compliment. We too often think of “doubt” as the opposite of “belief,” which means it must be a bad thing. And so many people go through life denying doubt, craving certainty, and otherwise diminishing the mysteries of the cosmos.

As evidence, consider the overabundance of phrases like “The Bible clearly says…” tossed so thoughtlessly about in so many conversations these days. This theology says, “There’s one way to see things, and if you don’t see things precisely that way, you are just wrong. And if you doubt any of this stuff precisely the way it’s been presented … well, I’ll pray for you, dearie!”

The way I see it, doubt is not the opposite of faith. As a matter of fact, expressing your doubt can be an act of great faith. Faith is what gives you the courage to continue on in the presence of doubt. Actually a doubt that is expressed courageously and faithfully can lead to a fuller understanding of the truth. On the other hand, stubborn unwillingness to acknowledge doubt causes people to stagnate, and leaves them ill-equipped to deal with life’s inevitable fluctuations.

Doubt leaves us room to dialogue with one another. Doubt primes our curiosity. Doubt fuels discovery, pushing us deeper and stretching us outward at the same time. I might even go so far as to say that doubt is necessary for faith to mature.

Once the church taught that the earth was flat. Somebody doubted that, and now we understand God’s creation much more fully. I imagine there were many diverse responses to the newly offered hypothesis that the earth is actually a sphere.

            1 - One may have rejected the new knowledge in favor of the orthodox doctrine.

            2 - One may have rejected the church, thinking that if you can’t trust one teaching, you can’t trust any of them.

(Both of these responses reflect an immature understanding of the creative power of doubt.)

            3 - One may have incorporated the new knowledge into a new understanding of God and grown in the process.

(This response embraces the doubt and uses its power to launch into a deeper truth.)

My advice? As soon as someone says, “The Bible clearly says” or some similar code phrase that indicates they have no doubts, you should exit the conversation.  It isn’t going anywhere, anyway. People with no doubts are scary to me. And people who insist that nobody should have doubts when it comes to questions of faith are theological tyrants.

Not only is doubt okay, it is holy. Doubt is necessary to maturing in faith, and in life in general. I hope you will embrace your doubt, express it with confidence, and see how you might just grow in the process.

Joyful Silence

“I … meditate on you in the watches of the night.” (Psalm 63:6)

The Jewish people had three overnight watches, from sundown to about 10:00, from 10 until 2, and from 2:00 until sunrise. (Later, under Roman rule, there were four watches overnight, as listed in Mark 13:35.) By mentioning watches, plural, the Psalmist is indicating that the meditation is an all-night long experience.

Have you ever “pulled an all-nighter?”

I can remember a few in college, either studying for exams or writing papers. I would stock up on high caffeine content beverages and snacky foods, you know, the really healthy stuff. Then sit at my desk struggling to stay focused on my work while all the time my brain was all up in my grill like, “Um, excuse me. This is supposed to be sleeping time. What the heck are you doing?”

Needless to say, the results of those “all-nighters” were not the best work of my academic career.

I have pulled three spiritual all-nighters in my life, all of them on Saturday nights before Easter. These Easter Vigils were very difficult for me; to sit still, stay quiet, and meditate on God for hours and hours … oh, and by the way: stay awake, too! My brain was a bit nonplussed on those nights, as well.

I wonder if those “all-nighters” were my best spiritual work.

The larger point is, happiness that comes from God does not have to be noisy. It doesn’t have to be in continual motion. Happiness in God is felt in the darkness, in the stillness, in the calm of the night, as well. I wonder if silence allows the mind and body to rest, which somehow allows the spirit to come to life in new and joyful ways.

There are times for us to make joyful noises; there are times for joyful silence, too.

Listen to Your Church

In the church, there is a place for noisy.

Scripture tells us over and over again to shout, to sing, to make a joyful noise to the Lord. Bells and lyres and harps and flutes and drums and shofars are among the several instruments mentioned in the Bible, often used in the context of praising God in a worship setting. Singing is mentioned in many different places throughout scripture, including when Jesus and his disciples sang together during their last Passover meal (See Mark 14:26 or Matthew 26:30).

Are we happy together? During Lent, we are considering the idea of “happiness,” in a series of services called “So Happy Together” here at Campbell UMC. There are times when happiness is just too much to contain, and it emerges in joyful expressions of noise - laughing, cheering, singing, shouting, and any of a myriad of sounds.

Are we happy together? On an upcoming Sunday morning, stop and listen to Fellowship Hall in between services. I’ll tell you what, it is buzzing with noise! People who are happy together tend to be a pretty noisy bunch, and that means Campbell tends to be a pretty noisy place on Sunday! There’s laughter and conversation and even singing here and there; it is a holy noisiness that surely delights the ears of the Lord.

Are we happy together? When you get to stand in the front of the sanctuary like I do, you hear the full sound of a congregation singing praise to God. I’ve said it a number of times, “You all sing like Methodists!” It is a joy to hear Campbell UMC gathered for worship, singing praise with reckless abandon, lifting voices young and old, making a truly joyful noise in worship of almighty God.

There is a place for noisy in the church, and it comes from being truly happy in God.

Wherever you worship, take a listen to your congregation this Sunday. What do you hear? Is there a buzz? Is there a joyful noise? Are you happy together?

Of course there is a place for stillness, too. There is a quietness that also comes from deep and abiding joy in God. That will be next week’s topic. For now -

Let’s sing it, shout it, walk it, talk it! There’s a higher power!

Lay down your soul ‘cause Jesus bought it! There’s a higher power!

Ashy Motivations

It has always been curious to me that Ash Wednesday traditionally includes a scripture (Matthew 6) that tells us to do all this stuff in secret, giving money, praying, fasting, and then we put a big black mark on our foreheads so show we belong to Jesus, a very non-secret thing to do, it seems.

It even says that we are supposed to wash our face so no one will know we’re fasting, then we actually make our face dirty, which seems to me to be pretty much the opposite.

Which is it? Are we supposed to be some kind of “secret Christians,” or are we supposed to wear it on our sleeve, or rather, on our face?

I think the answer lies in the text itself. It is the “so that” part of Jesus’ words that we need to pay attention to. It’s about our motivation for doing what we do. If we are doing good stuff so that others will notice it and think we’re so cool, then that’s not okay.

Jesus is saying, Giving money to those in need so that someone will see it and say, “Oh isn’t she so generous!” isn’t a good reason to give. Praying out in public so that others will notice and think, “Oh isn’t he so pious!” is not a good reason to pray. Looking hungry while fasting so that someone will say, “Wow, look how hungry he is, he must really love God!” is not a good reason to fast.

So maybe we can expand that to ashes on the forehead in order to say, wearing ash on your forehead so that others will see it and be impressed by your piety is not a good reason to wear ash on your forehead.

When it comes to motivation, only the individual knows. You can say that you are motivated by any number of things, but when it really comes down to it, only you know what motivates you.

So really the only thing I can do is tell you why I wear ash on my forehead on Ash Wednesday. I do it because I need a tangible reminder of how fragile life is. And though I cannot see the mark, I am aware that it is there. It means that I am dust, I am comprised of the earth, my life withers and fades, and the best that I can do is to live this short, insignificant, fleeting life in a way that is pleasing to God, in a way that spreads love, offers grace, and works for justice. The best I can do is to live in such a way that things are better off than they were when I arrived on the scene.

That’s just me. Maybe you have a different reason. That’s cool. Or maybe it’s just not something you need to do at all. That’s also cool. Ashy foreheads are certainly not a prerequisite for heaven.

Next Wednesday evening Melissa will put some ash on my head and tell me that I am dust. I’ll do the same for her. Then together we’ll invite anyone who wants to come forward so that we can put some ash on their heads, too.

And we won’t ask a single one why they’re doing it.

The Wall

Little Jack couldn’t see over the wall.

So he asked for a box that would help him be tall.

And Mom did oblige; she was glad to provide.

And Little Jack’s smile was a couple feet wide.

Now Littler Jill, she wished to see, too,

But for Littler Jill, one box wouldn’t do.

So Mom gave her two, so that Jilly could see,

Right next to Jack, who said jealously,

“Well that isn’t fair! How come she’s got two?

I’ve only got one! Oh Mom, how could you!”

But Mom only smiled, “Now Jack, you’ll recall

That your box is to help you see over the wall.”

And just at that moment, Littlest Mary

Arrived on the scene. And now Jill grew wary

For in order for her to see over the wall

Mary needed THREE boxes! Yes, she was that small.

And Jill looked at Mary and said, “Well I’ll be!

I’ve only got two, but that twerp has got three!”

“Oh Jill,” said her Mom, “Just please let it go.

You can see from the top of your boxes, you know.”

But Littler Jill and her brother Small Jack

Would not stop complaining regarding their lack.

They grumbled and blathered, and made such a bawl

They completely forgot to look over the wall.

And Mother reflected, while the two children fussed,

And pondered the difference ‘tween “equal” and “just.”

Responding to Gun Violence: Choose Love

At this point, the so-called “national conversation” has deteriorated to one Zax saying, “Guns are not the problem” and another Zax saying, “Oh yes they are.” (More on Zaxes.)

With all the respect that is due, may we please move on?

Clichés are rarely helpful. So, let’s just agree that 1) No, not all kinds of gun are “the problem,” but some are obviously "a problem," and 2) yes, obviously a gun safely unloaded and locked away won’t kill people, but a person getting it, loading it, pointing it at someone and pulling the trigger might. Okay, so let’s now declare this conversation a “cliché-free zone,” agreed?

Next, my full disclosure that I do not now, nor have I ever owned a gun, much less fired one. All I know about guns I know because of friends who own and use them. One of those friends is Fred Koenig, who has this very helpful perspective to share. Though obviously not a friend, Kathleen Parker’s column of January 11 was also very helpful.

I ran across another helpful piece of information in the Washington Post. Grant Duwe of the Minnesota Department of Corrections has researched mass shootings in the United States, defining a mass shooting as “an incident in which four or more victims are killed publicly with guns within 24 hours.” Part of his work included a list, broken down by decades, of mass shootings in the United States:

1900s : zero

1910s: 2

1920s: 2

1930s: 9

1940s: 8

1950s: 1

1960s: 6

1970s: 13

1980s: 32

1990s: 42

2000s: 28

2010s (three years): 14

All of us, expert and non-expert alike, will form opinions about why there is a spike in these incidents in the last third of the twentieth century. Personally, I believe it comes from a broad desensitization to violence. As weapons technology became more and more destructive and weapons became more and more widely available, attitudes toward violence became less and less horrified and more and more glorified. And furthermore, while I do not believe that our government can completely legislate away gun violence, I see no reason not to try. I value human life more than property rights.

However I have not invested myself as others have in the matters of earthly government. There are those who become irrationally energized over these matters, and it leads to very unhealthy places. I don’t even feel compelled to respond; it’s just not worth it. There is a more excellent way.

Whereas the world is anxious for certainty in uncertain times, God’s people are called to faith. For people of the world, there are a myriad of answers that may or may not lead to certainty. More guns, less guns, security officers, armed janitors, better healthcare for the mentally ill, fewer violent video games … and so it goes. Each of us is entitled to have and share an opinion about our earthly responses to the issues that confront us.

For people of God there is one answer - more love.

It is simple, yet extraordinary. The answer is more love. I’m not talking about a sugary sweet feeling; I’m talking about agape - divine love.

This is a love that recognizes the sacred worth of all God’s creation.

This is a love of which there is no greater, the love that lays down one’s life for another.

This is a love that refuses to allow a single Who down in Whoville to perish.

This is a love with fortitude, a courageous love that shouts down injustice and oppression.

This is an active, vibrant, powerful love that knows no strangers, no outcasts, no enemies.

This is a love that does not conform to this world, that overcomes evil with good, that turns the other cheek every time, that gives without expecting anything in return, that does justice, loves kindness, and walks humbly with God … this is the love that will fix everything.

And finally, it is a love that cannot be legislated, it cannot be demanded or required - it must be freely given. We must choose to love. We already know the answer; it is love. It is not certainty - it is faith. So simple; so extraordinary; so elusive.

We must choose love.

This is Church: More Newtown Reflections

I learned about the shooting in Newtown at 1:03 on Friday afternoon. I learned about it from Facebook.

It wasn’t a status or headline I read; it was a message from my friend Sharon. It asked if we could send a prayer shawl to Connecticut, and expressed her feelings of sorrow. I didn’t have any idea what she was talking about, so I checked some news websites and heard about the shocking story.

At 2:02 I posted an announcement on my own Facebook page that those who would be worshiping at Campbell the upcoming Sunday would pray over as many prayer shawls as we could in order to send them to Newtown United Methodist Church, asking knitters to contribute to the effort if they could. In that post I tagged Campbell United Methodist Church. 35 people liked that status; 8 shared it; several others posted similar statuses of their own.

I also sent messages via the Newtown UMC website, both to their pastor and the main office, saying that we would be gathering, praying over, and sending prayer shawls their way.

The next morning I posted another Facebook status basically repeating the idea. This time 25 people liked it and 5 shared it. I also sent a churchwide email via our iContact service with the information in it. Several colleagues saw the buzz on Facebook being generated by people of Campbell, and spread the idea to their own congregations in various ways.

Sunday morning at 6:15 I posted a message on Newtown UMC’sFacebook page to let them know we would pray for them in worship, and assuring them they were not alone. Someone in Newtown “liked” it before worship started here, so I was able to tell worshipers here that our message had been received.

On Sunday morning the prayer railing was filled with the vibrant colors of dozens of prayer shawls. Many had come from the closet in which we store them as they are finished, until they are needed. And several others were brought in that morning. Two were laid on the prayer railing incomplete, still connected to balls of yarn, knitting needles inserted through. At least one person brought a shawl and left to attend church in their own congregation. Another had to work but brought her shawl during her break. At each service, we came forward, touching the shawls, entwining our fingers in them, placing hands on the shoulders of those who were.

Monday the shawls were boxed up, then mailed by a church member who volunteered to take care of that task. They are supposed to arrive in Newtown this Friday. In both boxes is a paper copy of a letter that I wrote to the congregation of Newtown United Methodist, sending our support and prayers along with the shawls.

With the boxes shipped, I then posted a .pdf of that letter on our Wordpress newsfeed and put a link to the letter on my Facebook page, and that link has 52 likes and 5 shares.

One of those shares was by Newtown UMC, along with a note that said, “We are humbled and thankful by the witness and outpouring of love shown to us by you and countless others. Jesus smiles upon you, we are indeed certain of this, if nothing else! God bless you and yours, verily His.”

+++

Thinking about these events, reflecting on this story, I notice two things. First, I believe it represents the church at its best. No attention-seeking sensationalist statements of trite theological cliché, just love. I do not begrudge television personalities and famous fundamentalist preachers for their statements of the past few days, but neither do I even remotely consider their remarks representative of the Gospel. Rather, a simple idea shared with a pastor and embraced by a congregation and brought to life through the love and sacrifice of so many … pure, active, gracious love for people - this is church.

And secondly, it is simply astounding how much happened in this story through online connections and social media. Clearly online social networking is not the future of the church, it is the present. If your own congregation isn’t “doing online” well, fix it. Everything that happened in the story above may have happened 20 years ago as well, but it would have taken ten times as long and been a hundred times less effective. Nothing ever will replace the face-to-face aspect of church; the doctrine of incarnation will see to that. But the connective power that is available online can no longer be ignored by congregations if they want to remain faithful to God’s mission.

Faithful, fruitful ministry. An ever-expanding pattern of discipleship. Helping one another in our time of need. Changing the world for God’s sake. This is the church, and it is beautiful.

Say Something: Our Newtown Reactions

Everyone needs to say something, or not. Please do not begrudge anyone their expression in response to the Newtown shooting. Or their non-expression, either.

Some people need to say, “I know exactly why this happened!”

Some people need to say, “Why in the world did something like this happen?”

Some people need to say, “No matter what, God is still here!”

Some people need to say, “See, this proves it. God is not here!”

Some people need to say, “I am going to start carrying a concealed handgun!”

Some people need to say, “We must immediately dismantle the NRA!”

Some people need to say, “May the soul of the shooter burn in hell for all eternity!”

Some people need to say, “We have to eliminate the social stigma that surrounds mental illness!”

Some people need to watch a funny movie.

Some people need to say nothing at all.

And so it goes.

What I’m asking is that we allow one another our time of expression without critique. Of course we see things differently. That’s okay. Just let it be what it is for now.

Don’t argue right now, while we’re all just reacting, expressing, still shocked, still bewildered. Don’t argue, bicker, pick. And don’t hate on other people for their need to express themselves.

Any and all emotional responses at this point are perfectly valid and understandable. As time inevitably moves ahead, there will be clarity … and dialogue … and action taken. But in this moment, as our stomachs are still churning and tears appear seemingly from out of nowhere, as the faces of children we know surface in our minds alongside the thought “what if it had been them,” as fear and evil and horror seem to rule the day … not in this moment.

There are questions that do not have answers. Trying to answer them may actually do more damage.

Right now, we all just need to say what we need to say. Even if that is nothing at all.

"Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

Every Means Every

In order to be ordained Elder in the United Methodist Church, I had to answer “Yes” to Bishop Schnase when he asked, “Will you diligently instruct the children in every place?” Needless to say, I answered in the affirmative.

(There were a few other things I had to do, as well, but for now let’s focus on this one.)

I think the intention of the historic question is to ask about the children “in every place you are appointed, wherever that might be.” But I tend to take it further than that, and just let it mean exactly what it says - the children “in every place.”

The children in one place are just as important as the children in another.

As I write this, a friend is preparing to come home from China with a new son. A team from Campbell is returning from a heart-wrenching visit to an orphanage in Haiti. Schools for poor children in Pakistan are being named “Malala Schools” after a fifteen year old hero. And in Springfield, Missouri my family has just received a newborn infant in order to provide foster care for a time.

Every place.

Matthew 18 includes one of my favorite Jesus quotes: “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” Could it be any clearer? Welcoming a child is welcoming Christ. (The Greek word translated “welcome” in the NRSV means “to take by the hand” or “to take hold of” or “to receive.”)

Children are more than ornaments to the congregation’s life, they are our brothers and sisters in Christ. Do we welcome them as if we were welcoming Christ? Do we take them by the hand and value them for who they are or do we try to mold them into smaller versions of ourselves?

My prayer, this week and always, is that the church embraces God’s children of all ages, in every place.

Every. Means. Every.

Diverse is Different than Divided: 2012 Election Reflection

I must say, after Tuesday’s election, most of us seem to be … just fine. Of course, there is a distinct minority of Americans which is not just fine, and within that minority there are two sub-groups: people who are ecstatic and people who are appalled.

The ecstatics are ecstatic because President Obama was re-elected and now all is right with the world.

The appalleds are appalled because President Obama was re-elected and now our nation is hopelessly doomed to oblivion.

Neither outlook is truthful, and that’s why most of us are just fine. We know we’re not great; there is a lot of work that needs to be done, so we’re not really ecstatic. We know we’re not horrible; things have been and could be a lot worse than they are, so we’re not really appalled.

And of course there are degrees of “just fine-ness,” with some of us on the pleased end of the scale and some on the disappointed end. And there is variety within the spectrum of “just fine,” depending on if you are talking local, state, or national levels.

The “just fines” voted Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Green, and the rest. Some of our candidates won, and some lost. Some of our ballot initiatives passed, and some didn’t. Some of our amendments amended, and some didn’t. And so it goes.

And “just fine” doesn’t equal “weak” or “ambivalent” or “disengaged,” by the way. Many of the “just fines” are energetic, passionate people who care deeply for our communities, our states, and our nation. We’re just realistic about it, and by realistic I mean this:

We understand the difference between “divided” and “diverse.”

If Tuesday’s election did nothing else, it reinforced the idea that the United States of America is a diverse nation. The “ecstatics” and the “appalleds” want to talk about how divided we are, but I don’t think that is accurate. Our nation is not divided, it is diverse, and there is a big difference.

There are times it feels divided, but the problem lies with the system, which is currently structured in such a way that the myth of the divided nation is perpetuated. One of the changes I wish for is the immediate elevation in significance of multiple alternative political parties, so that the system more accurately reflects the diversity of our nation, and provides a process by which we can choose from among a more diverse set of platforms.

Just for example, this year I was struck by the number of people with whom I communicated who expressed the core of the Libertarian Party platform. Though not a clinical survey, it seemed to me that a fiscally conservative approach that emphasizes personal freedom, including the freedom to marry whomever one chooses, was fairly common. However, neither the Democratic nor the Republican platforms fully reflected this perspective, so the people who felt that way were forced to compromise something of their values if they wanted to feel as if their vote counted for something.

We should never have to choose between feeling like our vote counts and feeling like our vote fully reflects our values. Many of the “just fines” vote for people rather than party already. Last Tuesday, I personally voted for candidates representing three different parties. I think it would be very healthy to bring more voices into the conversation, more perspectives, more philosophies from which to choose, and not automatically consider these alternative parties to be “fringe” or “extreme” or any other dismissive label, but rather legitimate perspectives that we could hear, understand, and then choose, or not.

However, all in all, I’m just fine. Our nation is just fine. So is our state and our town. My president is a Democrat, my U.S. senators are Republican and Democrat, my U.S. representative is a Republican, my governor is a Democrat, my state representative is a Republican. See, just fine. Not ecstatic, not appalling.

There is a difference between divided and diverse. Our nation is not divided, we are diverse, and I for one love it that way.

UMC Judicial Council Rules, World Keeps Spinning

And the gates of hell remain unshaken.

The Judicial Council of the United Methodist Church has issued a ruling that has been much anticipated by absolutely no one outside of the United Methodist hierarchy. (FYI: Basically, they overturned a change made at General Conference this year. The change had been to eliminate the idea of a “guaranteed appointment” for United Methodist pastors. The motivation for the change was to increase accountability for excellence in pastoral leadership.)

So this means that the one shred of reform that was left in place after General Conference has been itself shredded. All the work to de-tangle the hairball has been nullified, most of it at General Conference and now the remainder, by the Judicial Council.

A hairball that is tangled tends to remained tangled. It’s organizational entropy. Or something.

With that said, I am not in the least bit discouraged by this decision, any more than I was when the reform efforts all but failed at General Conference. The motivations are there, the principles are there, the mission is there. The picture has been painted in stark reality. Anybody in United Methodist leadership who cannot see the impending Weemsian wave “death tsunami” and appreciate its implications to the church hasn’t been paying attention.

(And by the way, I call dibs on the term “Weemsian Wave.”)

The allusion above to the gates of hell is from a letter John Wesley wrote to Alexander Mather in 1777. I wrote about it here. His point then, and mine today, was/is that the focus of Methodism has been diffused. Our denominational attention is focused on so many different things, many of them internal, that our energy is sapped, our mission is compromised, and our priorities are unclear at best.

In response to the ethos present in his day, John Wesley asked for “one hundred preachers,” clergy or laity, who had an intense focus on God, and they would do no less than “shake the gates of hell and set up the kingdom of God on earth.”

Whether or not the ordained itinerant clergy of the United Methodist Church are guaranteed an appointment is one of the navel-gazing questions that diffuses our denominational focus and takes it away from God, where it needs to be. And by the way, it is a change that I’m all in favor of trying, knowing that we either have to change intentionally and proactively or we will be changed by the circumstances around us. I’m in favor of all of those “Call to Action” changes that were first resisted, then rejected, and now reversed by the status quo.

Because in the meantime, people and communities and congregations already are changing, in spite of the hairball. Or they might be orbiting around the hairball, drawing on its gravity in order to sustain forward momentum. This is why I’m not discouraged by the Judicial Council’s decision this week. They are going to do what they are going to do, functioning in a system exactly as it is designed. You cannot blame them; they are bound by the system in which they exist.

However, congregations that innovate and change, ministries that are flexible and responsive to community needs, communities of faith who are creative and passionate, individual disciples who fear nothing but sin and desire nothing but God - these will be surfing on the leading edge of the Weemsian Wave, even as old systems and unchanging structures are drowning in the flood.

The change starts locally, and percolates outward from there. It must. Neither the General Conference nor the Judicial Council are change agents. The local church is. The changes that need to take place must take place at the local level and eventually the General Conference will catch up.

The gates of hell remain unshaken, and the kingdom yet awaits realization.

Dividing the UMC is No Solution - Try Local Autonomy

Dividing the United Methodist denomination is a bad idea. (Click here for some background info.)

I thought we were supposed to be a mission focused church. I thought we were supposed to keep the main thing the main thing. I thought that meant an outwardly focused orientation. I thought we were followers of Jesus Christ.

Dividing our denomination does none of those things. Division does not align with our mission. Division is definitely not the “main thing.” Division is the most inwardly focused thing we could do. Division of the body of Christ is incompatible with Christian teaching.

And you know what? You know what would happen if we spend the exorbitant time and money and energy on dividing the denomination?

Nothing.

Nothing would happen. Nobody would care. The people who aren’t coming to United Methodist Churches now would not magically start coming to the Gay Methodist or the Straight Methodist, or whatever Silly Methodist name we would come up with, just because where there used to be one there were now two denominations. Or three, or six, or a dozen.

Nobody would care. And when I say “nobody,” I mean nobody who is supposed to be the “target demographic” for our mission. (For the record, I do not like that term, since it objectifies people in overly simplistic and rather demeaning ways.) In fact, just about everyone who’s not already heavily involved in church has stopped reading this post by now, and is on to more interesting things, I’m sure.

For the record…

…I reject the idea that the body of Christ should be divided as a way to avoid confronting the controversies.

…I reject the idea that it is possible to categorize the diversity present in our denomination into an either/or, us and them, ally and enemy paradigm.

…I reject the idea that all gay people would feel comfortable in the liberal congregations, and all conservative people would feel comfortable in the “not gay” congregations, and every possible permutation of these labels and categories.

…I reject the idea that almost 300 years of Wesleyan tradition isn’t worth as much as a disagreement about sex.

…I reject the short-sightedness that laments the amazing, exponential growth of African and Asian United Methodist churches. (This lament is offered because these regions generally don’t affirm marriage and ordination for all people.)

I reject all of it. I reject it in favor of mission: the “main thing,” an outwardly focused drive into our communities and around the world. It is a drive to share the love of God made known in Christ Jesus. It is a mission that is equipped and empowered by the living presence of God’s Holy Spirit. It is a mission known by various terms and phrases, but at the core it is quite simply to make disciples of Jesus Christ who are transforming the world for God’s sake.

As such, what makes sense to me for the immediate future of the United Methodist denomination is local autonomy with regard to the question of marriage and ordination, a General Conference shift from “shall” to “may,” if you will.

So, according the Book of Discipline, pastors currently have authority with regard to marrying couples. The pastor does not have to marry every couple that asks. A simple extension of that authority would allow individual pastors to marry same-sex couples, or not, depending on their personal convictions and their community context.

Similarly, the Annual Conference is given the authority to ordain individuals. Each Annual Conference has its own variation on that process anyway, whether in mentoring, the role of the various boards, the interaction with the DS, the candidacy process, the residency time, etc. Each Annual Conference could easily be given authority to determine whether a candidate’s sexual life is a significant enough stumbling block to prohibit their ordination.

And voila! A solution with which no one will be completely happy! Sounds like a compromise to me. Some will say it is condoning sin. Some will say it is too random. Some will say it will create a complicated mess of “safe” and “not safe” congregations and conferences. Some will say that it essentially divides the denomination, if not formally then practically. I completely understand where all these perspectives would come from.

But we cannot simply stay status quo; status quo is a steady decline toward an impending tsunami of Weemsian proportions in North American Methodism.

We cannot divide the denomination, for the reasons I stated above. And the same reasons also apply to the “civil disobedience” option in which pastors or conferences intentionally break the rules to force a confrontation. Not missional, not Christlike, not outwardly focused, etc.

The best option is local autonomy. Local autonomy represents an option that is missional, faithful, hopeful, and most importantly, grace-filled and loving. It is not the cleanest option, but we live in a messy world, don’t we?



[Note: This article has been edited from the original post. "Latin American" in the original has been replaced with "Asian." I apologize for the error on my part.]