Category Archives: accountability

May 19, 2013 · 12:47 pm

God, Tragedy, Churches, Faith and Forgiveness

Granbury Tornado Damage, photo from NBCDFW website

Granbury Tornado Damage, photo from NBCDFW website

The Dallas Morning News had a front page article today about the role faith and churches are playing in the aftermath of the deadly tornadoes in Granbury.

The beginning of the article contains these statements:

In a place where so much has been lost, broken and scattered, many people in this tornado-touched town say they found something they didn’t know was missing.

“I guess you’d call it faith,” said Josiah Thompson, a 26-year-old who decided at the last minute to take his wife and two young children to Granbury Baptist Church on Wednesday night. Thirty minutes later, his rental home exploded in winds up to 200 mph.

“That proves right there that going to church can literally save your life,” said Thompson, . . . Thompson said his faith was renewed in friends and family, who have buried him in cash, clothes and food. And in God, who demonstrated quite clearly that everything important is out of our control.

Thompson, like so many others in this lake-straddling town an hour southwest of Fort Worth, said it’s impossible to live through the fury of an EF-4 tornado and not sense God’s protecting hand.

God’s Protecting Hand?

God’s protecting hand.  Oh yes.  But how about those who were killed?  Were they left out somehow of this miracle of protection?

That’s my first question here. And I’m not going to try to answer it except to say this: tragedies happen to the best of us and to the worst of us. If God is not present in all these tragedies, even those which lead to death, then God is a capricious monster and should not be worshipped. It is wonderful that the family mentioned in the article was spared. But I find it despairingly grievous to suggest that they are more special to God that those whose lives were lost.

Let’s just stop doing that.  Please.

The second question revolves around what is happening now: both local and distance churches are, as is normal, responding quickly and generously to those whose homes and lives have been ravaged by the tornadoes. Same thing is happening in West, Texas, after the fertilizer plant explosion there. These stories are written over and over again. In the face of tragedies and natural disasters, people almost instinctively turn to churches. And church people also instinctively turn to service.

Takers AND Givers or Takers OR Givers?

My question: Will those who are on the receiving end of what will be nearly unceasing acts of mercy and charity on the part of church-going folk themselves become part of a worshipping community? Or will they just expect that the church will show up at the next tragedy without their own participation?

Frankly, it is far easier to just stay on the receiving end of this type of charity than it is to become a vital part of a worshipping community, to train oneself for acts of charity, and to learn to pray, “Thy will be done” with faithfulness and hope in the face of hard and complex lives.

Several weeks ago, this spoof piece by Larknews made the rounds on Facebook, passed from clergy person to clergy person. Some, not knowing it was satire, commented, “Wish I could do that.” What was “that?” It was the act of aggressively telling people who are “takers” from church life to either get with the program and start becoming “givers” as well, or just get off the church membership lists.

I understand the temptation.

For the last several weeks, I have been on a combined vacation/study leave. Last year, when I was on Sabbatical leave, I spent every Sunday at a different church. These visits spawned my “Mystery Worship” series.

Week after week, I wandered into different churches and differing worship experiences. I chronicled what I experienced at each one. It was fun–and I also knew I’d never be back at any of those places. I would never establish the kinds of connections there that would offer real life and hope for me–and in which I could offer real life and hope in return.

I was going to do the same this year. And then, suddenly, I just could not. Utter exhaustion  accompanied me during this time away.

The intensity of the worship schedule starting in Advent and culminating at Easter, along with some significant issues at church that had to be courageously faced but which left me battered and bruised, combined with some intensely difficult personal issues had left me almost completely empty. The fact that I am still healthy physically leaves me shocked and grateful.

But the thought of walking into someplace full of strangers and seeking to be in a space where I could freely open myself to what I needed, the healing Presence of God, simply flattened me. That which I needed most I could not bring myself to do.

Although I have never minded solitude, thanks be to God, I am finding in my solitary time away greater and greater need for real community. A community that can indeed become vulnerable to God in faithful worship, vulnerable to one another in loving, accountable connections, and vulnerable to the world in sacrificial service. Just popping into a worship service cannot bring that needed connection.

Those who are on the receiving end of sacrificial service in Granbury, West, and countless other locations around the world see one portion of church life. They are essentially doing what I did on my Sabbatical: popping in and receiving.  Even so, they rightly must be “takers” for a while.

Those who seek to be givers must go much further and discover the practices the disciplines of the church. This is a lifelong process of forming spiritual connections and learning to be a part of a community.

The Nature of Real Connection

In all my years of loving and serving the church, this one main lesson stands out: we who are connected to one another by our churches are connected not because we are good, or nicer, or more generous than others. We are all exquisitely human, and full of failings. Many of our failings actually see deeper exposure by our very connection through the church.

Furthermore, we have high expectations of each other. Because of that, we fail one another not just mildly but spectacularly. That’s what makes the healthy church and spiritually-based connection so powerful. At its best, it is unbreakable because we learn what it really costs to forgive each other. Once we learn that, we are fully able to worship God, receive forgiveness, and live in grace.

I’ve blogged and thought a lot over the years about our need to be in connection with each other and especially about the situation within my beloved United Methodist Church. Our fights and disagreements with each other are threatening to tear us asunder.

Will We Forgive?

Will we forgive each other?

Will we forgive each other for seeing different versions of the truth even while affirming and humble owning our particular versions?

Will we engage in the disciplines necessary to have adequate connection so we can continue to respond to crises and tragedies?

Will we insist to others and know well ourselves that being only takers ultimately means the destruction of the soul?

Will we bow before the Almighty and Holy One and say, “Thy will be done, even if it means my own death?”

I don’t know.  I do know my concerns here add to my weariness. I do know I’m a bit frustrated with my own church community right now where too many stay on the membership rolls only in the role of taker, not giver. Too many who will not engage in the necessary disciplines to learn to know God;  too many who expect the pastor to keep them motivated rather than tapping their own motivation; too many who expect others to give generously and sacrificially but who will not even consider the power of the tithe for themselves; too many who see their own life’s challenges as needing everyone’s attention without awareness that everyone suffers.

Yet, each of these also needs forgiveness, support, and the opportunity to transform from being takers to being givers.  And I do as well. The process never ends.

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February 21, 2013 · 11:04 am

On Adolescence and Underwear

It is very easy for someone who works exclusively in a church environment to become culturally isolated from the “real world,” so I make it a point to read extensively outside my field. I want to learn what others are thinking and how they experience life.

So, I perused a recent article in The Atlantic written by a middle-school teacher extremely concerned about the ways the girls in her classroom dressed for school.

She writes, “I hate having to defend my right not to see a girl’s underwear. . . I hate having to worry that being able to see a girl’s underwear will so addle the boys’ brains that they will be unable to concentrate in science class.”

Now, this makes perfect sense to me.  Learning to dress appropriately, showing respect both for self and others, should be part of the maturing process.

It was the comments on this article that opened my eyes to differing views. Radically differing views. Apparently, a fair number of people in this world think this teacher is way off base. Coming down strongly on the side of freedom of expression and support of individual choice, they see few or no problems for either the girls or boys when dressing provocatively in those extremely turbulent years of early adolescence.

Keep in mind that I reared three sons, no daughters. While I insisted they dress decently, there were minimal protests and I have no first-hand knowledge of the art of purchasing clothing for girls. I’ve heard of but never witnessed emotional meltdowns when a tween or young teen is told she must wear more modest clothes–and thereby possibly threatening her very survival in the eyes of her peers.

I also remember my own tense teen years as I sought my independence, but was nowhere near ready mentally or emotionally for it.  The transition from child to adult is extremely tough for both youth and parents, with never-ending and utterly exhausting battles around every corner.

With that in mind, I was still dismayed that multiple commentators could see no problems with such revealing clothing in a school setting.

I don’t get this. Academics have become an increasingly difficult setting for boys. Their bodies scream, “I need to move around and expel some of my excess energy” while the opportunities for needed movement shrink. Instead, pressure to sit still and learn quietly increase.

Additionally, during these years both boys and girls face hormonal storms that threaten to remove any possibility of rational response from their immature minds.

Why then, is it apparently OK to flash underwear for the world to see? Both boys and girls are guilty here.

We’re talking school, folks. Not the beach, not parties, not hanging out time. School. That place where heroes–that is how I define ANYONE who teaches for a living, and especially those who teach pre-teens and younger adolescents–perform superhuman feats hourly by pounding some essential knowledge into those hormone-addled brains.

Why, in the name of all that is decent and reasonable, would parents do ANYTHING to make that task more difficult?

I understand the concerns expressed. Commentators fear females are going to be blamed as provocateurs when sexually assaulted. Additionally, few would wish that we become like those who keep girls and women cloistered lest the just the sight of them incite the helpless male to irresistible lust.

I still ask: is it possible to agree on a general school-day dress code, without having to go to uniforms (which do have much to say for them) that honors both the need for personal expression and the need for respect, both for self and others?

Or, am I just too caught in a world that teaches at its core that all humans have a responsibility to treat others the way they want to be treated themselves that I am hopelessly out of touch with the “real world.”

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February 5, 2013 · 10:12 am

A Time to Feast and a Time to Fast

If every day were Christmas, we’d be miserable.  We’d be stuffed, bored, broke and fractious.  Irritations would win the day and gloom and unfulfilled expectations would slather everyone with despondency. Adults would desperately turn to TV, youth and teens to video games, as a way to disconnect from person-to-person contact.  Children, surrounded by piles of overly-stimulating toys, would resort to whining, “Is that all there is?” as a way to remove themselves from their mental and emotional chaos.

Christmas is special because it comes just once a year. But no one can stay in a fever pitch of excitement for long. Instead, we are made with certain rhythms of living that need to be respected.

Periodically, we must slow down, take stock of who we are, celebrate our progress and examine our failures in order to learn from them. Just as we need to repair and maintain our houses, tools and automobiles to prolong their usefulness, we also need to repair and maintain our souls, our relationships with each other, with the created world and with the Creator.

We need plans and places to free ourselves from habits that threaten to shut us down.  Some habits operate like sand in the gears or viruses in computer programs—they bring everything to a halt if we won’t stop and clean things out. That’s what Lent is all about: time intentionally set aside for self-examination. The best of Lenten disciplines takes place both in private, in our chosen fasts, and in community, in accountability with others with like goals.  It is much like Boot Camp: each must do the exercises but as teammates we can do more, cheering each other on.

Lent starts with a day called “Ash Wednesday.” Often, this follows a night of partying, such as Mardi Gras celebrations.  Mardi Gras, which actually  means “Fat Tuesday,” began as a way to rid the household of all food forbidden during the 40 days of Lent. Mardi Gras, also known as “Carnivale” in Brazil, now has almost completely removed itself from its religious roots. It has unfortunately turned more into a time of wanton excess and competitions to see who can engage in the most degraded actions. Ideally, it is a time of communal celebration before the communal fast, with the expectation that everyone seen partying on Tuesday night will also be seen in church on Ash Wednesday morning, preparing for the extended fast.

Ash Wednesday is the day to mark, and I mean literally mark, the formal entrance into Lent.  As part of Ash Wednesday worship, participants will have the cross marked with ashes (from burned palm fronds) on their foreheads or hands.  Then, ideally, they will begin with a fast of some sort, and an additional activity to help build their spiritual muscles.

Our society has nearly forgotten the art and practice of fasting.  We’re so self indulgent that if we don’t get what we want immediately, we resort to temper tantrums in response.

Fasting teaches us much. It exposes our unhealthy addictions. It teaches the vital art of self-denial and the even more vital art of delayed gratification.  Fasting calls us to freeing maturity as we struggle to stay faithful to our fast.  Ideally, an extended fast reminds us of our human state, our need for God’s loving grace, and teaches us deep compassion for the endless suffering of others as we experience our own momentary suffering and discomfort.

Do a fast this year.  Start Wednesday, February 13.  Not before, not later.  Go to a service somewhere–they’ll be all over the place.  The church I serve, Krum First UMC, will have them at 7 am, noon and 7 pm and everyone is welcome.

I do not know of any other act that will give you more self-awareness, and more God-awareness, than to engage in this time of sacrifice, fasting, and discipline.  It will set you more free than you have ever been.

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January 29, 2013 · 7:45 pm

Lawrence Wright, Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood and the Prison of Belief

With both horror and fascination, I just finished reading the Lawrence Wright exposé called Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood and the Prison of Belief.

This exquisitely researched book takes us into the bowels of Scientology, a religious group that has apparently systematically lied, cheated, abused its followers, sought to destroy its detractors, devastated families, amassed giant amounts of money which impoverished many and landed in the pockets of very few, and pandered to celebrities whose egos got stroked by the maniacs who run the show.

Scientology doctrines do not actually address the major religious concept of a holy God or the idea that there might be a moral and good center to the world.  It is based on the idea that people, by following its scientific principles, can become essentially super-human and immortal.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t show much respect to science.  The whole thing was built on the science fiction imagination and highly prolific pen of one L. Ron Hubbard, whose writings have been elevated to the state of Holy Scripture, forever and unquestionably true.

But there is little holy about them or about the organization.

A lot of people have been sucked into it and had the life sucked out of them. Wright’s work particularly chronicles the life of Paul Haggis, highly successful screenwriter (multiple well-known TV shows and movies, such as Crash and Million Dollar Baby), the years he spent in it and his eventual journey out.

Haggis was told never to read anything about Scientology that someone outside the fold wrote.  Should he disagree with anything that Hubbard wrote, no matter how crazy it sounded, the entire problem was within him and he must change his own thinking.  The rule: NEVER question what he was being told or taught.

Secret upon secret, lie upon lie, he and his family were pulled through the upper ranks of this organization.

Haggis finally could no longer tolerate the organization’s abuse of his daughter. He began to ask questions and read materials from outside the fold.

He had indeed been in a prison of belief, along with others who may have been unable to escape. The structure and insularity of Scientology consumes their entire lives. Wright documents spiritual, mental and emotional abuse heaped on many loyal Scientologists, most of whom entered the organization as sincere seekers of greater spiritual truth and emotional freedom.

How could this be?

I think all of us long to be surrounded by a group of like-minded people whom we believe understand us and are in general agreement over major life issues. And most of us like being near the seat of power. This desire appears early–the so-called “popular” boys and girls not only call the shots, but other children vie get near them, to have some of the aura of popularity rub off on them.

Dangerous religious groups draw people in by keeping the real secrets of the faith tenants hidden until strong personal connection is already made.  They also create enticing incentives to move to the inner circle which will than have them deeply enmeshed in the culture of secrecy they have created. Because this touches a basic human need, the movements may grow rapidly.

I contend that when an aura of secrecy dominates any religious group and those in the inner circles are there to be served rather than to serve, there is something terribly, terribly wrong. Belief has indeed become a prison.

Wright has done us all a favor by writing this book.  He has probably also put himself at risk.  Scientologists have a long history of stalking, threatening, and piling lawsuit upon lawsuit on those who have dared to question or expose their secrets. This is a courageous piece of scholarship and deserves a careful reading.

Let’s think, people.  If we can’t read critiques of our belief structures and their histories without attacking, there is something very, very wrong.

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January 22, 2013 · 6:26 pm

Controlling the Narrative: Lance Armstrong and the Rest of Us

The Dope on Biking“I wanted to control the narrative.”  That phrase has sprung out of the otherwise unsurprising Lance Armstrong doping confession. The need to “control the narrative” captures much human motivation and underlies multiple decisions. If we can indeed control the narrative, we can keep ourselves protected, lie with impunity and still look intact, together and successful.

Armstrong’s real problems lie far beyond the lying and the doping. Those transgressions can be seen as primarily self-destructive. But Armstrong was other-destructive because he insisted that all who rode with him had to submit themselves to the full doping regimen AND routinely lie about it.

Frankly, when the ultimate motivation is winning at all costs, that was a smart and necessary move by Armstrong. To even suggest that he could have won all those competitions without the doping help is simply preposterous. They were all doping and everyone knew it.

The real issue for Armstrong is that had to control all words that were written or said about him in order to feed and support his nearly super-human athletic and health mystique. He did so by bullying, intimidation, lawsuits and lying.

An extraordinarily gifted and well-known preacher, Walker Railey, held the pulpit at First Methodist in downtown Dallas for years. Railey was engaging in an extra-marital affair and needed to deflect attention from his character deficits AND promote an aura of victimization in need of sympathy. So he created threatening notes, sent them to himself and then publicly announced that he wore a bullet-proof vest under his preaching vestments. Now, who is going to question something like that?

When his wife was found strangled and nearly dead in their garage, the immediate assumption was that Railey’s presumed assailant had instead gone after the more vulnerable wife.

It was an incredible piece of deflection that almost worked. Railey, that masterful preacher and storyteller, also masterfully controlled the narrative very much as Armstrong did. Until he, too, was exposed, although never actually convicted in criminal court (a civil court held him liable for the damages, however). He, too, lost all public credibility.

Let’s bring this home a bit and consider the human condition. The famous or infamous may make the news, but most of us seek to control the narrative in some way. If we can do this superbly well, we can render our own deficiencies nearly invisible.

It all starts with twisting the truth. The fear of exposure has always been a central motivation for lying.  Fear that if others could peer into our own souls and see the real truths there, they would immediately reject us.

So, we restructure our stories, our own narratives, with partial-truths, and sometimes outright lies and deceptions. We also do all possible to deflect light from shining on our inner lives by pointing to the darkness in others. I call this the, “But Mom, he started it” syndrome. Then, and this part is absolutely necessary as well, we paint ourselves as wonderfully sympathetic so no one will carefully examine the story.

If keeping our own story intact depends on others also supporting it, then we must do what Armstrong did: find a way to make sure others will not in some way expose the truth. That’s what leads to emotional blackmail or worse and unending pleas for sympathy that become more and more urgent as the narrative, the story that has been holding this together, begins to unravel.

I invite us to think this week about the ways each of us seeks to control our narratives.

Where have we so compromised our basic truths that we need to deflect attention elsewhere?

Where do we need to control or intimidate or even threaten, however subtly, others in order to keep our own stories intact and free from examination?

Let’s spend a little less time condemning Armstrong and see what we can learn about ourselves from his public humiliation.

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November 7, 2012 · 3:34 pm

Three Beat Up People, The Art of Discipleship, and Questions About the Pastoral Role

The Setting

On Sunday evenings, I’ve been holding a remarkably well-functioning Confirmation class consisting of several young teens, one older teen, and four adults, ranging in age from early 30′s to mid-70′s, a mixture of men and women.

The teens get drilled first. This is a “no-frills” confirmation regime: the faster they learn the material in a thoughtful, integrated way, the faster they can join the youth group which is also taking place. Once I am satisfied they’ve accomplished the learning goals for the evening, they are dismissed and we adults go into a more leisurely time of free flowing discussion that centers on the question of sanctification.

We’ve been reading CS Lewis’ The Great Divorce to give us a common jumping off place for our discussion.This past Sunday, for a variety of reasons, I just had two of the adults in class. I was extremely tired–an almost three hour finance meeting after three powerful and emotionally draining All Saints worship services had left me with no refresh time at all. I was also hungry, having eaten barely anything for lunch and breakfast by then 11 hours away.

We talked about just going home, but I decided to see if any important questions were lingering first.

To Be Real Christians

Today, I have no idea what the question was that ended up sparking a powerful time for the three of us. But we landed on the same question that had driven so much of John Wesley’s thinking, “How can we be real Christians?”

How can we indeed become so fully sanctified that all of our lives come under the Lordship of Christ? I spoke to them of Wesley’s contention that we can indeed become perfected in love and we began to address just what that means.

As with just about everyone I know, the three of us agreed that the people we have the most trouble loving perfectly are the ones closest to us. Sometimes I think that “punching one another’s buttons” should become an Olympic sport. We’ve all experienced it done exquisitely well–and we’ve all done it to others.

By then, we had started talking about Wesley’s accountability groups and the human challenges of being truly vulnerable with others. All share the same fear: “If you really know me, will you actually still love me?”

I began to speak of some of the most dark and painful times in my life, and how they had shaped me and taught me things I could never have learned firsthand any other way.

One stated, “Why is it that I cry nearly every time I’m in worship?” I knew this person’s history in a religious group that systematically demeaned people and reminded them of their unworthiness.  I responded, “I suspect you are just beginning to understand that you are a beloved child of God, that you are fully forgiven, and that grace cushions you now at every turn. Tears of gratefulness are a natural response to this.”

The other person began to speak of a friendship that had recently come along that permitted total honestly between the two of them and how that had freed them both to come closer to God.

At this point, I looked at my watch, startled to note that we were thirty minutes over the usual ending time. All of us could have continued the conversation for some time to come, but suddenly my weariness reasserted itself and we agreed it was time to close.

The Pattern of Discipleship

Later, I thought hard about the way I had just spent that hour and a half. Essentially, we were three beat up older people sharing stories, seeking the face of God in the midst of our daily challenges.

By church planting growth models and techniques, this was a poor use of my time and energy. Neither of them would ever distinguish themselves as magnets to pull people into this church community. They are not “movers and shakers” or “people of influence.” Neither has any money, so they are not going to help with financial issues. They are both quiet servants of God, willing to help where they are able, but not “take-charge” leaders nor charismatic visionaries who would invite others onto this bandwagon.

I’ve become aware that this is a pattern for me: a willingness to go deep with those who very much desire a well-integrated Christian walk. But despite the deep discipleship that is clearly taking place here, this type of methodology does not build big churches. It doesn’t attract crowds, my blogging about this brings only a few dedicated readers, and extended writings about this will hardly hit the best seller lists.

My Questions About Discipleship/Shepherding

All this has me asking questions about the role of United Methodist pastors (or of any denomination, I guess). As a pastor/teacher, clearly shepherding must be integral to my work. But if I am primarily shepherd, that role automatically slams a limit of the numbers that can be well reached by me.

The quick answer is always, “Well, you are not much of a shepherd if your groups are not multiplying. You should be creating other shepherds who will disciple their own flocks.” Yes . . . but I need to explore this analogy a bit: can a sheep ever turn into a shepherd? Can they shapeshift that way? Or could it be that shepherds are especially formed and gifted for this role?

If I understand correctly, shepherds, in the times and culture in which Jesus taught, had extraordinarily lonely and often dangerous jobs. They had to both protect their flock against multiple dangers and possible attacks, AND they had to make sure that proper nurturing took place so their flocks would have adequate food and water and and could reproduce healthily.

Shepherds had to be pretty self-sufficient and extremely watchful and wary. Surely that constant watchfulness, coupled with their loneliness, took an emotional toll of them. I wonder if they burned out, as do so many modern day “shepherds,” i.e., pastors.

Now, as to the reproduction: at first glance, it looks like I’ve just lost my argument here. But, here’s the catch. When a flock did reproduce rapidly, part of those sheep had to shifted to other shepherds because there is an upper limit of sheep that one shepherd can effectively watch over.

Size and the Itinerant Life

We live in a world where size rules. If it is bigger then it has to be better. We certainly think that about our churches. But is it? Can we really do intense discipleship with large crowds? We can certain have great programs and create lots of energy and come up with full offering plates and fabulous plans for expansion but can we shape disciples, those who will follow Jesus all the way to the cross?

I ask these questions in light of the renewed talk about itinerancy that permeates much clergy conversation. We United Methodist Clergy, following John Wesley’s pattern, “itinerate” from place to place, going where the Bishop sends us, hopefully being the right pastor for the church to which we are sent.

It is my understanding that one of the reasons Wesley used this model is that he felt strongly that most preachers really only had a very few excellent sermons in them. By keeping them moving, he could ensure powerful, well-planned preaching with different voices being heard in the local congregational, and the localized pastors did the hands-on work of discipleship.

Current Realities

I, however, am expected to deliver an excellent message weekly, to the same congregation so messages must be prepared freshly each week and can’t be repeated, AND do all that the localized pastor did.  That is, I must  ensure that people are discipled with its intense person-to-person contact, that mission takes place, and that temporal affairs are properly administered, as well as marry, bury and baptize. AND I’d better show good numbers in both people and monetary growth (not necessarily growth in spiritual maturity) or risk being called “ineffective.”

It this possible?

I face my failures daily in multiple areas. It is because I am not suited for this work? Or could it be that we’ve got some of this wrong?

If you have read this far, I’d surely appreciate any thoughts you have on these subjects.

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October 5, 2012 · 10:57 am

Do You Want To Be Made Well?

Do you want to be made well?

Jesus asks this question of a life-long disabled man, someone unable to assume the duties and responsibilities of normal adulthood. He had lived thirty-eight years as a hopeless beggar, waiting for a miracle.

Jesus asks,”Do you want to be made well?”

Surely he would answer, “Yes, of course.”

In fact, the man didn’t say that. He made an excuse: “But no one will get me to the miracle water fast enough!”

Jesus ignored the excuse. He told the man to pick up his mat and walk.

The man did.

Most won’t.

An article on a health-related website detailed the story of a woman with multiple health issues, particularly diabetes and decreased lung capacity, who had been stabilized after an extensive hospital stay. She was sent home with careful instruction on food choices and a mandated complete cessation of smoking.

Less than a month later, she was re-admitted to the hospital in significantly worse health than when released. She begged the doctor to fix her so she could attend a grand-daughter’s wedding. Alarmed at her state, the physician made some inquiries and learned that she violated every dietary instruction AND immediately resumed smoking despite the instructions.

She didn’t want to be well. She wanted someone to fix her.

Don’t we all?

We search for the magical God who will override not only all our unfortunate decisions but also all forces of nature, mathematical odds (lottery winners, anyone?), economic systems and our own DNA in order to make us well.

Consider again this man to whom Jesus spoke. He spent his life infirm, subject to the whims and appearances of others. He had no profession and had developed no skills of daily living except begging for crumbs of food.

Jesus says, “Get up. Walk forward and join the human community as a fully participating member.”

But it takes work and courage to be made well. Real wellness exists in a state of physical and spiritual cooperation with God. It also means sometimes defining wellness as acceptance of physical illness, economic hardship, relational pain, and even death, for wellness does not mean escaping these things.

Above all, the state of wellness exists in those who are willing to be responsible for their own choices, refusing to blame others for their circumstances, and actively receiving merciful grace from God so they may give it to others.

A well person might be debilitated and ill physically, but sees illness as the path, however unwillingly chosen, to finding wholeness of soul. Remember, Jesus soundly condemned those who suggested that the problems of the physically ill and infirm were caused by either their own sin or sin of their parents.

Conversely, wellness is not necessarily the acquisition of perfect physical health, which can and often does become an object of worship.

Instead, a well person is an integrated, God-breathed human being, prepared at any moment to enter the full presence of God while living equally as fully as a member of the human community.

Even so, a large percentage of physical illnesses today, the so-called “diseases of civilization” mostly tied to atrocious food and beverage habits, are caused by unhealthy choices. How does a person who lives in that kind of disease state answer Jesus’ question, “Do you want to be made well?” Such is the case with our re-hospitalized woman.

What would it mean in that case to “take up our mats and walk?”

I believe that “walking” means acknowledging that all choices have consequences, many so far off in the future that we can’t fathom what they might be. “Walking” also means willingness to accept those consequences without blaming others–or expecting the magical fix. Finally, “walking” means intentionally leaving behind that which keeps us stuck and moving forward into holy freedom.

I fear we’ve become those who no longer know how to walk as well people.

Pretty pitiful.

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July 27, 2012 · 12:49 pm

Time For This To End: Bishop Bledsoe’s Decision to Appeal

Will this never end?

That’s what I asked myself upon hearing the not unexpected news that Bishop Bledsoe has filed an appeal to have his involuntary retirement overturned so he may return to active episcopal leadership.  Full details of the appeal can be found here.  The document flows with legalese, of course, littered with words and phrases like “unconstitutional, unlawful, violates, lack authority, failed, Bishop Bledsoe deprived, lacks jurisdiction.”

Jesus Has Left the Building

No where in there do we have words or phrases like, “do unto others as you would have others do unto you, serving the lost, feeding the sheep, picking up the cross, blessed are you when others persecute you, if your enemy hits you turn the other cheek, forgive in the same way you wish to be forgiven, God’s will on earth as it is in heaven, become like the least of these.”

Nope. The lawyers who, by the way, expect The United Methodist Church to pay all fees and costs of this appeal, took over and Jesus has left the building.  Their job is not to do spiritual things spiritually–but to  look for the tiniest loophole, the most obscure point of order in a very disordered book, our Book of Discipline.  There will be no appeal to Holy Scripture in this fight.  Chapter and verse shall be disregarded. All references will be to paragraph this, subsection that which will of course disagree with paragraph that, subsection this.

I am reminded of the truism that the greater the relationship, the fewer the rules.  Well, we’ve got rules.  What does that say about our relationships?

The Purpose of Outside Examiners

I recently listened to a fascinating interview on Fresh Air, a radio program generally hosted by the talented Terri Gross.  She was interviewing the Roman Catholic Bishop who has been given the task of bringing into doctrinal compliance the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, a group that connects most US nuns.

The Bishop happily talked about the authoritarian, hierarchical nature of the Roman Catholic Church. He brushed away the long-time pedophile priest cover-up and took the nuns, the ones who actually do the work of the church, to task for not teaching things the Vatican wants them to teach.  Like many others, I’ve been appalled at how much those senior leaders of the RC church can get away with because no independent body ever evaluates them for, among other things, the ability to act like decent human beings.  With no outside eyes to offer correction, and with no questions permitted from those below them in the hierarchy, evil ran amok, while the finer points of the law are elevated to the state of idolatrous worship.

Our Capabilities For Doing Evil

I’m a long time lover of Russian literature. Not sure why–the stuff is often hard to read with ridiculously long philosophical asides punctuating some very good stories.  Of course, it may be said that I write the same way.  However, I like the stories and the Russian world fascinates me.

Anyway, one of my favorites is The First Circle by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn.  One of the sub-themes in this tale of talented technicians and scholars locked up together a prison camp concerns the utterly unaccountable life and world of Josef Stalin.

All of Stalin’s underlings were afraid of him, afraid of his capricious and unstable nature, and afraid of the power he held over life and  death.

No one ever spoke truth to him and lived–and generally their closest relatives also faced death, or at least exile and imprisonment.  Under Stalin’s leadership, over 20,000,000 Russians were executed.  These were peacetime deaths, ordered by this despicable man, carried out by his cowed and compromised underlings.

Easily we point the “evil” finger at him.

However, I think we need to consider that any who refuse to hear the words of others that help expose our blind spots are as capable of as much evil as was Stalin.  Any of us who will not listen to words of correction and seek transformation through repentance and redirection as necessary has crossed over to hardness of heart. We may not be as spectacular or as overt with our evil as was Stalin, but we still leave a legacy of death and destruction.

We/I/you–none of us escapes this temptation to live unquestioned and unexamined lives.

A Different Possibility

I write with concern on a personal level for Bishop Bledsoe and his wife and family.  He is a fellow clergy, they are Christian brothers and sisters, and together someday we will all kneel at the feet of Jesus. We need to be able to do so as reconciled souls.

But no matter how the Judicial Council rules, it is time for him to step aside.  He can no longer serve effectively as Bishop.

It is time for this to end.

Should the authority of the Episcopacy Committee to do what was necessary for the health of the church be clarified by the highest law body of The United Methodist Church?  Yes, it should.  It is my hope that every person in this connection who has the privilege of making clergy appointments and guiding overall direction undergoes rigorous evaluation. The Judicial Council ruling could make it more possible.

Were Bishop Bledsoe to remove his ambitions of restoration to the active episcopacy in the process of the appeal, he would have made an extraordinary step toward healing and the freedom needed to move forward. Such an act offers profound evidence of character and statesmanship.

It would also help us all learn to more willingly take rebuke and correction from each other.  As we open ourselves to one another in the Wesleyan manner, we make progress toward perfection in love, to wholeness and holiness of heart, soul, mind and action.

However, what is happening right now needs to end.  It is time.

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July 21, 2012 · 5:56 pm

Further Reflections on Bishop Bledsoe and the Nature of Grace

The Nature of Grace

I’ve got the whole concept of grace heavy on my mind today.  In a world held together by a gracious God, I am more and more aware that we don’t always receive what we want and never receive what we deserve.

Others have written eloquently about this subject, particularly Dietrich Bonhoeffer:  “cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ,”  and Philip Yancey, “God dispenses gifts, not wages. None of us gets paid according to merit, for none of us comes close to satisfying God’s requirements for a perfect life. If paid on the basis of fairness, we would all end up in hell… In the bottom line realm of ungrace, some workers deserve more than others; in the realm of grace the word ‘deserve’ does not even apply.”

Troubling Events

I will not write with such eloquence, but I do write with these things in mind: the troubling events of the last week where Bishop Bledsoe was involuntarily retired and then not given the an episcopal appointment he expected assuming an appeal of the ruling for the involuntary retirement.

According to the reports, the committee who had the responsibility of evaluating Bishop Bledsoe’s work chose to take the path they saw as most compassionate and most gracious:  encourage him to take voluntary retirement so he could go out with honor and with reputation essentially intact.  Then he could assume, without stain or question, some of the responsibilities and privileges that are awarded to retired bishops.

Bishop Bledsoe indicated that he would have rather this be fought by people filing formal charges against him and duking it out in a church court.  Those charges may now be filed, so he may have his wish.

Which Option Most Gracious?

Now, which of those choices most fully represents the kind of grace we hope to receive from God?

I will readily tell you that my sympathies are with the first options–an honorable way out, reputation intact, and damage control beginning.  But there is a major downside:  truth will not fully be told and rumors will abound.  Real healing does not take place in an atmosphere of secrets and partial truths.  And there is a bundle of healing that needs to take place here.

This is an important issue, not just for us, but for the larger world of Christianity.  I’ve written more about that here.

The second option troubles me because it means drawing sides, determining winners and losers, and the introduction of lawyers into the mix.  There is a reason why the Apostle Paul was horrified nearly 2000 years ago to learn that Christ-followers have taken their conflicts to courts.  Lawyers have important functions, but bringing out healing truth is not among them.  Rarely does graciousness invade the courtroom.

We Must Acknowledge Sin

So I go back to the nature of God and what it means that God is gracious to us.  I know that when I don’t acknowledge my own sins, I am simply unable to gain freedom from them.  I must name them in order to find forgiveness.  I must repent in order to move in a different direction.

When grace permeates that process, my confessions are done with a combination of hope and tears, but without fear of a punitive response from the hand of God.  Nonetheless, I will indeed experience human results of choosing sin over righteousness.

Why?  Because God must also hold with gracious tenderness those who have been hurt by my sin.  Sin is never an individual act. It always affects the larger community.  Even so called “victimless” sins stain the soul. A stained soul, particularly one laden with secrets that must not be disclosed for fear of repercussions, cannot freely move within any relational activity, be it family, church, friends or workplace.  There are always wider ramifications.  Always.

The Necessity of Church Discipline

Since God must hold with grace those in the larger community as well as the individual, and since all want the fullness of grace (even if not knowing those words or having a real understanding of the concept) restoration becomes a communal act.  Sometimes that restoration means that the individual, especially one who will not acknowledge wrongdoing, must be sent from the community.  This is what the Scriptures mean in the passages about church discipline.

I have heard horror stories about people being kicked out of churches for the most trivial of reasons. I have talked with numerous deeply wounded people who have experienced the worst of a rigid, judgmental, and apparently hate-filled churches.  The decision to ask someone to leave a community must be done with multiple safeguards and with careful awareness of our own need for grace.  Sometimes, however, like it or not, expulsion is the most gracious of all acts.

Let’s go to the behavior of children for an illustration.  When children are not taught how to conduct themselves in a manner in which they recognize the rights of others as well as their own, they are set up for a lifetime of rejection.  It is not gracious to let rude, insensitive bullies have their way.  It is not gracious to refrain from teaching children self-control so they have the tools to navigate schools and workplaces.  It is not gracious to reward or even ignore tantrums and selfish acts, for the child not properly corrected and taught more healthy ways to deal with human interactions will grow into an incompetent adult. Sometimes, we need to expel children for a time from the community until more adequate decisions about behavior are reached and implemented.

Simply, grace sometimes means we don’t get what we want, but means we get what we need to move to maturity, be it spiritual, social, physical or intellectual.

We Don’t Get What We Deserve

The other side of grace is that we also don’t get what we fully deserve.  Those who are willing to receive grace, and the correction, teaching, instruction and shaping that comes from grace, begin to gain eyes and develop sensitive souls that perceive the Kingdom of Heaven. They find the entrance to that holy place.

Do any of us deserve entrance?  Certainly not.  We are given an invitation–but we do need to be clothed in the proper clothes. Those clothes are given in the acts of repentance coupled with willingness to receive correction.

To go back to this situation with Bishop Bledsoe, it appears that some seek did offer correction and that he received them as those who either had different opinions or were operating out of sour grapes.  Could they have spoken more strongly?  Perhaps.  I think there is a language issue here, and I’ve written about it here.  But why would that become necessary?

At some point, the habit of not listening to correction becomes ingrained in human hearts, minds and souls. People become like hardened soils where the seeds are eaten by birds and the blessing of rain just runs off, unable to sink in.  Then the sweet invitation to confession, repentance, restoration and adjusted paths can no longer find response.

Was the Resolution Gracious?

So, has what happened been gracious to all concerned?  I am saying a qualified yes.  I suspect the original decision to encourage the Bishop to retire without the necessity of disclosing more fully the problems moved a bit close to cheap grace, although done with the best of intentions. The Bishop’s refusal to receive it this way ended up moving us closer to real grace–because some things have had to be disclosed.  The decision to remove him from episcopal leadership for the present shows a wider grace to the larger connection as well as to Bishop Bledsoe, for it would not be possible at this time for him to serve without significant shadow and for genuine trust relationships to build.

The more full manifestation of grace will appear as every participant or observer of this very tough situation seeks greater capacities for self-reflection and lovingly-given, truth-based accountability.

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June 21, 2012 · 2:38 pm

The Impossibility of Proving a Negative; Why Metrics Don’t Work As Evaluative Tools

The Taunt

“Scaredy cat, scaredy cat!”

“Am not!”

“Prove it!”

The classic playground exchange: one child makes a pejorative accusation of another, the second denies the charge, and the first one says, “Prove what I just said isn’t true.”

And child number two is now put in the impossible situation.  For there is no way to prove to the first child’s satisfaction that he or she is indeed not a “scaredy cat.”

Let’s try another example, and I write this knowing the illustration can be called “sexist.” However, since I’m a woman, and it reflects poorly on womankind, I’ll take the risk:.

Many wives have said to their husbands (to their husband’s despair), “You don’t love me!”

What they are really saying, of course, is that “You are not doing what I want you to do so I feel good about myself so therefore you must not love me.”  By the way, this is why many people don’t think God loves them either–God just doesn’t always dance well to our imperative tunes.

Anyway, when the husband responds, “Of course I love you,” he plays the same losing game as the schoolyard children above.  As long as his wife is convinced that he doesn’t love her, there is no way he can prove otherwise.  He can’t prove the negative.

The Accusations of Racism

Right now, there are charges of racism being floated against members of the North Texas Conference and the South Central Jurisdiction Episcopacy Committee that evaluated Bishop Bledsoe’s leadership and effectiveness.  With those charges now coming from several places, the chances of a reconciling and healthy resolution to this situation grow increasingly unlikely.

Why?  Because we can’t prove a negative.

What would the North Texas Conference have to do to prove this negative?  This question needs to be asked.  What would it take to prove decisively to those who have floated such accusations that they are untrue?  Those who have made such charges need to answer the question: What would bring them satisfaction?

The Problem with Numbers

This situation has made glaringly clear the problem with making numbers (“metrics” is the more sophisticated term) as the basis for determining effectiveness.  A tiny gain in the number of people attending worship and 16 church plants has been given as proof that Bishop Bledsoe is effective in leadership.

Yes, those 16 church plants have helped very much bring an increase in worship numbers.  But here’s the problem:  most of the church plants started, or were at least in the planning stages, long before Bishop Bledsoe took office.  I know–my church is considered one of them–not as a brand new plant, but as a relocation and restart.

I started working on this in 2007–but I also can’t take credit because I was building on the good work of the people of this church and of my clergy predecessors, who began to dream about this in the early 1990’s.  It’s all part of a long term system, and I am just a part of that system, not the sole driving force.

Bishop Bledsoe began his term as Bishop on September 1, 2008.  Most if not all of those church plants that are showing good numbers have been doing ground floor work for far longer that Bishop Bledsoe’s years in leadership in the North Texas Conference.

All of us in leadership roles need to recognize that we are standing on the shoulders of those who came before us.  Our results are highly dependent on systems and plans in place years before. Numbers reflect an extremely small part of leadership effectiveness, particularly when being evaluated over a short term time period–and four years is a very short time frame for a complex organization saddled with ponderous change challenges.

“Isms” Must Stop

I personally ache with compassion for Bishop Bledsoe as a fellow human being.  He’s in a very, very tough spot right now, with minefields all around him. It will take enormous wisdom and grace to work through this. But it can be done, and can be done redemptively, even if painfully.

I also say that all “isms” are contrary to the Gospel of grace and reconciliation offered to us by the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the one who ate with sinners, touched the unclean, and offered the first news of his glory of his resurrection to the least believable of witnesses–a group of uneducated women.

No “isms” have a place in kingdom of heaven living.  Nonetheless, issues of call, character and competence do have a place.  We must not move someone from a leadership position on the basis of an “ism” but we can and should move someone on other grounds with sufficient reasons.  If a person, by reason of any “ism,” is no longer subject to evaluation of call, character and competence, then what we have is a whole new and disturbing paradigm of unaccountable leadership, itself based on an “ism.”

Monday Morning Quarterbacks

I recently noticed in an online conversation where some people with no first hand knowledge of this situation, little second-hand knowledge, and only a surface look at the headlines have decided that there is “something rotten in Texas.”

They display Monday morning quarterbacking at its best.  The observer at the game, never having considered what it is like to face a line of well-trained giants who are out to slam him to the ground, who has to get an awkward ball to an invisible receiver who is also surrounded by highly motivated giants prepared to outmaneuver him by any means necessary, readily berates the quarterback for having missed a perfect opportunity to score.  Amazing.

We do this all the time in the church and pretty well every other place.  We set up committees or task forces to take care of necessary work or shoulder an important responsibility, elect or nominate competent people to serve on them, wait for the results of their work, and then call them a bunch of idiots who ignored the facts so very obvious to those who sat on the sidelines.

I remember one time watching a car chase that took place over several hours on Dallas freeways, with multiple law enforcement officers giving chase, trying to pull the driver over without harming other drivers on the road.  I watched it via helicopter cameras, and could indeed see some things the pursuing officers could not see.  Later, I happened to turn on a talk-radio program where I heard callers expound on the incompetence of the police. Each caller was insistent that he/she would have pulled over the miscreant so much better, so much quicker, and so much easier.  Right.

All of us do this, and I’m included in that “all of us.”  I/we are so quick to criticize and assume we could do better than those actually in the battle, on the field, driving the pursuit car, or charged with evaluating the performance.

It doesn’t help when we start lashing out with highly emotionally laden words and accusations that are impossible to prove untrue. Remember, you can’t prove a negative.

Perhaps we’d all be better off to remove phrases like this from our verbal repertoires:

  • “You don’t love me.”
  • “You are a racist.”
  • “You are an ignorant redneck.”
  • “You are untrustworthy.”
  • “You are a bad person.”
  • “You are a coward.”
  • “You are stupid.”
  • “You are a heretic.”

Now, every day, we probably do face unloving, prejudiced, ignorant, deceitful, evil, cowardly, stupid, heretical people.  But I doubt that a single one of them (or us) is going to hear a statement like one of those above and say in return, “Oh my gosh–you are right!  I should have seen this all along!”

We offer light by being light, not by being agents of darkness ourselves.  Yes, racism and all other “isms” must be addressed.  But they must be addressed in kingdom of heaven fashion.  Remember these words:

You’re familiar with the command to the ancients, ‘Do not murder.’ I’m telling you that anyone who is so much as angry with a brother or sister is guilty of murder. Carelessly call a brother ‘idiot!’ and you just might find yourself hauled into court. Thoughtlessly yell ‘stupid!’ at a sister and you are on the brink of hellfire. The simple moral fact is that words kill. This is how I want you to conduct yourself in these matters. If you enter your place of worship and, about to make an offering, you suddenly remember a grudge a friend has against you, abandon your offering, leave immediately, go to this friend and make things right. Then and only then, come back and work things out with God.  (Matthew 5:21-24, The Message Translation)

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