Tag Archives: united methodist church

June 10, 2012 · 3:38 pm

Why It Matters: The Episcopal Situation in the North Texas Conference

Jeffrey Weiss, a reporter with the Dallas Morning News, has asked these questions concerning the episcopal situation facing the North Texas Conference:  “Why does this matter? And to who? Clearly, it’s a big deal to North Texas Methodist clergy. But who else should be paying attention? And why?”

Here is my response:

Does this Episcopal situation matter to anyone besides the United Methodist clergy?

Three Levels

On one level, and speaking on a short term time frame, no, not really. We clergy and the members of the churches we serve are the only ones who experience anything directly. Even then, it will mostly just be clergy. And among the clergy, only a few will see much immediate fallout. Most everyone else will go on doing what we’ve always been doing, and trying to ignore what may be a fatal blow to our connection as the slow internal hemorrhage of pain, mistrust and discouragement takes its toll.

One a second level, and on a longer-term time frame, it matters because while we United Methodists may not be huge in number, we do have a large impact in the quiet and generally unnoticed work of patching broken lives back together again. Because of our strong social conscience, Methodists from the beginning of this movement in 17th England have been on the forefront of living out our faith by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the prisoners, caring for the outcasts, rescuing the children, and bringing health to the ill, both of body and mind.  This hidden work is part of the glue that holds both the Metroplex and the larger civilized world together and offers the sweet aroma of goodness and grace to a world sorely lacking in both.

Religious people, particularly Christians, are often mocked in the press because of our proclivity for silly arguments over the minutest details of doctrine, stupid social positions, disgustingly hateful pronouncements about racial, gender and sexual issues, and moral scandals among clergy. Those things make good reads and are used as fodder to say, “See, they really are a bunch of hypocrites.”  What rarely sees wide publicity is the immensely transformational nature of much of our quiet work. Let the United Methodist church come apart by this apparently unimportant disagreement, and the power and goodness that comes from that quiet work may easily dissipate. We will all feel the loss of these sweet services of grace, even those with no direct involvement with United Methodists, but most won’t know the root cause of the loss.

One a third, and most important level, what we as small group of clergy and churches are experiencing is the universal human story. This is the story of trust, betrayal, its aftermath and the long and complicated path to forgiveness and finding trust again.  And this is why the story needs to be told.

The Covenant Connection

United Methodist clergy, all of whom in some way or another have devoted our lives to living out the call to serve God and the community, are held together by a covenant.  A covenant is much more than a contract.  It is, like the marriage covenant, a binding of souls together for better or for worse.

I often tell the members of my congregation that the people who are most likely to hurt them painfully are the ones to whom they have made themselves most vulnerable, most “woundable” so to speak.  Who are they? Spouses, parents, children, extended family, long-time friends, confidants, employers.

They are the ones with whom we explore the basic question that haunts everyone:  can we both be fully known AND fully loved?

They are the one who can and do find our most tender places and dig the knives of betrayal in deep.

They are the ones we consistently have to learn to forgive and to re-engage in covenant life.

United Methodist Clergy have that kind of covenant with our Bishop. It is the Bishop who decides which clergy person will serve where and for how long. We have all taken a vow of itinerancy–this is part of our heritage from John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement.  We will go where we are told, and do so trusting that our Bishop makes those decisions with wisdom, grace, genuine love for us as brother and sister clergy people, and with adequate knowledge of both congregation and clergy in order to put the right person in the right place.

Some clergy move frequently. Some stay in one place for 20, 30 even 40 years. But all technically are subject to the decisions of the Bishop about placement. Any one at any time may receive a call and hear, “The Bishop has appointed you to . . . ”  Our entire lives, the lives of our spouses and children, and the lives of our congregations can be radically turned upside down.

It takes a lot of trust to live and work in a situation like this.

Broken Trust

The trust that held that fragile covenant (and all covenants made by humans are fragile by nature) has been broken. On all sides of this situation, there are people who feel utterly betrayed, stabbed in the back, and sucker-punched. The breath has gone out of us–but as it comes back in, anger tends to accompany it.

Anger in and of itself is not necessarily bad. It can energize us to fight with passion the most evil of oppressions. Or it can turn into an evil oppressor itself.

Again, this is the human experience. What we live through on the micro level of Bishop/Clergy/Laity of the North Texas Conference of The United Methodist Church is also lived through on the macro level of all human experience.  What we bring to its resolution is a faith centered on Jesus who says, at the moment of total betrayal, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”

The Universal Questions

We are, I suspect, going to be asking the same questions that every other single person who has been betrayed asks. Those questions are:

  • “What does forgiveness look like?”
  • “Does the work of forgiveness mean that I must stay in intimate relationship with the those who appear to have betrayed me?”
  • “How can I learn to trust again?”

We’re going to have to ask those questions on a deeply personal level and on a larger, connectional level.  As we ask them, we will decide once more if the Gospel is true.

If we cannot get through this without destroying one another, then the larger world is right to ridicule us a deceived people who have bought into a lie.

If it is true that God’s love for us is so powerful that God will go to all lengths to bring us back into reconciled intimacy with God, then it is time to live it out.

We must discern what is expected of us and of God in that journey toward healing, forgiveness, regained trust and reconciliation.

My Own Story

I speak very personally here for a moment. A number of years ago, I chose to end my first marriage.  My husband at that time was/is not a bad or evil person.  I was/am not a bad or evil person.  But the relationship itself had become a place of death–I could not stay alive as an individual and stay in the marriage.  After several years of serious contemplation of and hope for my own death, I chose life and also chose to offer forgiveness but without the kind of reconciliation that would continue to leave me vulnerable to the damaging dynamic of the relationship.

Was it an ideal solution? Hardly. The repercussions will go on for generations and it took me years to come to deep peace with it and to hope and pray nothing but goodness for the man who is the father to my children.  But even with those hopes and prayers, I would not be married to him again.

The choice to trust again after such an experience was complicated and fraught with fear for me.  But I knew that by living in suspicion of others, I would deny myself the joy of intimacy forever.

A little while ago, I went to take a walk. As I am writing this, I am staying alone at my oldest son’s house, in a suburb south of London, England. Near his house are several heavily forested areas with multiple walking and bridle paths. There is no map of the paths, and I often wonder if I might get lost in my perambulations.

As I went to take this walk, I walked alone in a part of the forest I had not explored before. The skies were darkening with oncoming rain. Although prepared for the rain, I wondered, “Can I trust that everyone I might encounter on these lonely and gloomy paths will be adequately civilized so I may get home safely?”

I became suddenly aware that no one knew where I was or would even know that I had not returned safely for at least 24 hours when I was scheduled to pick up the grandchildren from school.

With each turning of the path, I had a choice: stick with the route I knew, have a decent walk, get home and lock the door against other possibilities, OR, try a different route, risk getting lost and possibly hurt, and see what I can discover about myself and God.

Several times, I chose the unknown route, knowing that if I faced my demons and looked them straight in the eye, I had a chance of loving them into submission. But if I let them win, they are my masters. Demons make poor masters but great jailers.

Facing Our Demons

That’s why this this episcopal mess is important to many more than just a small group of beleaguered, tired and often discouraged clergy people. What we do in response will, in its own way, change the world. We’ll either face our demons and love them into transformation or we will let them win and shut ourselves away. There is no such thing as a neutral act, and no such thing as an act that does not affect in some way everything it touches.  And we United Methodists touch a massive number of things in this area, in the US, and in the world.

We will either learn to trust again and become more able to speak our truth in love, or we’ll stuff our truths away and build the fortifications around our souls so we won’t be hurt again–and we will lose our hope of redemption.

There is nothing easy about what is before us. That, also, is the universal human condition. Certainly, some life choices glow clearly, with the righteous and holy path fully illuminated. Most do not–most choices flicker with multiple shades of grey dancing in the shadows of our minds and hearts. We wander now into those shadowy and gloomy gray areas littered with hidden and yet to be explored paths. It will take much wisdom, humility, prayer, courage and forgiveness to find our way out. Again, this is the universal human experience.

That’s why this is important.  The painful, slow process of resolution will not gain national press. But it will have a long term effect on our faith and society, and we are foolish to believe otherwise.

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June 8, 2012 · 7:26 am

The Language of Power and Pentecost: Bishops, Clergy and Gardens

Note:  this is part of a larger body of writing I am currently working on with the theme of “The Sustainable Church” which is an extended metaphor of church as garden.  I believe what I am learning has important applicability to the current situation in the North Texas Conference of The United Methodist Church.

How do plants communicate with the gardener that something has gone wrong?  What means do they use to let the one with authority over them, i.e., the gardener, gain awareness of their health, their diseases, their thirsts and their floods?

This question strikes me as I ponder the situation with the Bishop and the Conference in North Texas.

The Bishop insists that no one ever told him that he was not effective in leadership until the Jurisdictional Delegation let him know that he would not be asked back as Bishop in the NTAC and that no other conference would have him serve as their Bishop.

There are strong parallels to explosions in local churches. Most pastors know that when people are unhappy with them, rarely will the discontent ones come straight to them to discuss their complaints. Instead, they speak of their unhappiness to others of like minds. Sometime they are so contagious with their spiritual illness that much of the church catches the infection. Suddenly, the pastor is pushed out and says, “Why didn’t someone tell me?”

Why did we not hear? I think the majority of those in the church do not speak the language of the pastor nor know how to communicate their discontent in a way that it will be lovingly heard and acknowledged.  I also think the majority of the clergy do not speak the language of the Bishop nor expect that they will be lovingly heard or acknowledged.

As godly leaders, we must learn the language of those we lead, rather than asking them to learn ours.

Think about it this way: how can plants indicate that there is a problem?  They can’t go straight to the gardener and say, “Hey, I’m suffering here” because they do not speak the language of the gardener. The effective gardener must instead learn the language of the plants.

Gardeners have great power over their gardens.  They pick what will be planted and what won’t.  They periodically plow or turn over the beds, causing giant disruption to every living creature within. They decide where the paths will be set out and which plants will get extra attention and which ones will be generally ignored.  They discern what is weed, and therefore not fruitful, and what is plant, and therefore expected to be fruitful.

Effective gardeners know when the plants are thirsty or have roots that are destructively wet. They see early signs of insect problems, note when some plants are going to seed too soon and thereby stop production of the needed fruit, and are aware when the normal processes of pollination are not working. For example, reduced honeybee populations have giant ramifications for gardens, and so systemic issues behind the problems must be addressed and leveraged.  Effective gardeners recognize quickly when a mistake has been made  with an experimental item, such as planting in the wrong season or in a weather zone where the plant can’t thrive, and rectify it quickly so space for more fruitful plants is not wasted.

But, remember, the plants can’t talk!  Gardeners learn the language of their plants by spending much time in their gardens, inspecting, watching, observing, gaining awareness of even slight changes that might cause huge problems later.

This cannot be done quickly! Those slight changes can be noticed only by those who have carefully developed deep and essentially unconscious knowledge of the plants and who understand that even a minor variation in temperature or soil make-up may mean the difference between abundant harvests and empty bushel baskets at the end of the season. Good gardeners have such keen eyes and strong sensitivity that they can pluck the almost invisible tomato hornworm off a plant the moment it shows up, because if they don’t, the leaves will be stripped in 24 hours.

As do gardeners, Bishops have great power, and they speak and live the language of power.  They display it by dress, by special seats and by unique insignia at General Conference, Annual Conferences and other events. They live power by hand-picking those who will work closest with them and to whom they are most likely to listen.  They speak it by acknowledging that the privilege of appointment making is ultimately in their hands.  Bishops can and do disrupt the lives of the clergy and the congregations in their domain.  They can and do make giant changes that leave everyone unsettled.

Both gardeners and Bishops need that power to work with effectiveness. The problem comes with communicating through the position of power.

It it up to those who have the power to learn the language of those who don’t.

And that is contrary to almost all human nature–and why the nature of the church must be so radically different.

Language is power.  Because of world domination and power first of Great Britain and then economic and technological leadership of the United States, English has become the lingua franca of the world.  For example, English is required of all pilots who fly international flights, because English is the language used by air traffic controllers to direct pilots in their routes, their landings and take-offs, their taxiways to gates and their delays as necessary.  Learn English or lose the job, no matter how skilled otherwise.

In addition, at least in the US, the lower on the economic scale, the higher the likelihood that people will become bi-lingual.  Speaking the language of those in power is necessary for survival.

The experience of women who first entered male dominated fields also illustrates this point.  Many of these women, more used to the language of nurture and cooperation, had to learn the language of power, domination and competition in order to earn and keep their places.  They were the one who had to become bi-lingual, not the ones who already had the power. Those with the power stayed monolingual.  Linguist and scholar Deborah Tannen, http://www9.georgetown.edu/faculty/tannend/,  has done some powerful work here that has opened many eyes to that situation.

But the point of the Incarnation itself is that God will indeed stoop to speak our language, and will come as we are in all our frailty in order to open the doors to the Kingdom of Heaven.  The church MUST be different from the world, or we no longer live out that Incarnational truth.  The first have to become last.

This is shown powerfully on the day of Pentecost. The first, i.e., those privileged ones who had known Jesus intimately, became the ones who spoke the languages of others so everyone might hear.  They did not insist that those sojourners and pilgrims to Jerusalem, desperate for the water of grace, first learn the language in which it was being lived out.  Those first and intimate followers of Jesus spoke in languages different from their own.  They had to, for otherwise, the Word could not bear fruit.

That’s what effective gardeners do:  they learn to speak the language of the plants, for otherwise, the plants will not bear fruit.

And that, in my opinion, is the locus of the controversy now taking place in the North Texas Conference of the UMC.  Again, Bishop Bledsoe indicates that no one has spoken to him of their problem with his leadership.  I think they spoke, but it was in a language he does not know, and has not chosen to learn.  He, as do almost all people in power, expected his clergy serving under him to learn and speak his language. Essentially, he expected his garden to come to him rather than going to the garden and learning it intimately.

He has not walked his garden, or given himself time to carefully observe small and often unobtrusive signs of unhealth or disease. He has not noticed that many clergy are wilting under unrelenting pressure to prove themselves effective or fruitful with no good definition as to what that means other than coming up with numbers that look good.  His fields have not been tended well, and have become parched, sterile and dry, but he, as gardener, makes little discernible move to help them regenerate by times of fallowness and huge applications of life-giving compost.

I do not think this neglect comes because he doesn’t care.  I do think he does not take time to know or care for his own garden because of the nature of the Episcopal responsibilities and the nature of our structure.

He does send out his undergardeners, but they themselves, burdened by unending reports, meetings and paperwork, rarely walk the gardens either, except for the annual Charge Conferences, which probably function more like Potemkin villages than realistic assessments of the situation at hand.  The gardens are wilting, and the main response from on high: either figure out your own problems and bear fruit or get ready for the consequences.

It won’t work in the long run.  Not for gardens and not for churches.

Let us not forget that clergy do the same thing in our own parishes.  We expect people who are wilting and ailing spiritually and finding themselves unable to thrive under our pastoral leadership to speak our language and tell us so.  But they can’t, and we find ourselves shocked to discover that the virus that infected one plant, one plant could have been brought back to life by good attention, suddenly took over much of the church, which now needs expensive  and often fruitless life-support treatment just to survive.

I’ve done it myself, way too many times. I am busy with my reports and my plans and my messages and administrative details and Conference business and trying to make sure my numbers get bigger each year, because that is the only language I can use that the District Superintendents (the undergardener) and Bishop will understand. That is my official language; no one else in the local church can speak it fluently.

The language of those in my care is one of pain and brokenness and occasional desperation. Theirs is of family problems and intractable illnesses and economic pressures and teen pregnancies and destructive addictions. They need tending and watering and good care so they can bend and not break in the midst of the storms and rise the next day to greet the sunshine with ripening fruit of righteousness.

When I don’t take the time to wander quietly and unhurriedly through their lives, when I expect people to come to me with the problems they are having with me rather than noticing the wilt myself, then I get slammed, sucker-punched, and emotionally devastated when someone says, “I’ll never return to that church as long as she is pastor.”  This, I believe, is what happened to our Bishop.

I am the one at fault where my church is concerned.  I must take responsibility for my own actions and neglect. I have not loved them enough to learn their languages fluently and to observe adequately their need for support and nurture. I have too often refused the message of Pentecost for the least of these under my care.  I expected my plants to start speaking the Queen’s English, when the only language they know is to wilt and die and spread their infection to neighboring plants.

Why did the General Conference vote against a set-aside Bishop, which would have been a very good thing?  Because they heard the language of power, not servanthood. Why did they vote so overwhelmingly to eliminate guaranteed appointment of clergy without even being willing to bring this to the floor?  Because they heard the language of privilege, rather than the language of humble prophets.  Why did they vote against urgently needed and important restructuring plans?  Because they heard insider language, and they were outsiders and tired of having their own tongues denigrated or ignored.

Why has Bishop Bledsoe been deemed ineffective?  Could it be because he is surrounded, with a few exceptions, by those who speak language of power and privilege and who are happy to give orders, but who will not lay down their lives to serve?  Could it be that he has insisted that his gardens be the bearers of Pentecost miracles rather than bringing Pentecost to the gardens?

In my opinion, he shot himself in the foot when he first came on as Bishop and promoted an expensive cruise to the Holy Land as a way to get to know him better–this is clear language of power and privilege. I believe alienated many–it certainly did me.  Were and are his intentions dishonorable?  I personally don’t think so.  But the best and most honorable of intentions must be communicated through the mystery of Pentecost, rather than the cement of power.

Is this story redeemable? Of course it is. All stories are redeemable.  That’s the gospel. That’s what we stand for.

Can mutual trust and accountability rise from the ashes of this fire?  Yes, indeed!

Can our gardens again become heavy with fruit and feed the world with the life-giving grace of God?  Of this, I am sure.

I also know the work that goes into transforming toxic and barren soil–and that it never happens quickly.  If we look for the quick fix here, if we sweep this under the rug, if we do not all carefully examine our own souls in this process, then we will ensure barrenness and death.

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June 2, 2012 · 2:46 am

Prayers for Annual Conference; unanswered questions to be addressed

Two weeks ago, Bishop Bledsoe invited the clergy of the North Texas Conference into dialogue.

Yesterday, he announced his retirement.

With Annual Conference starting tomorrow, I find myself deep, deep in prayer for all of us in the NTAC.

I am in London on a three month Sabbatical that is also a journey of healing, both physical and spiritual, as I work on a project I am calling The Sustainable Church.

I have learned this from my time in London:  time after time, this historic city has seen devastating fires and mass destruction from invading forces, the most recent being WWII.  So much of this place has been destroyed and yet . . . there is a deep resilience that says, “We can and we will rebuild.”

London, this ancient city, thrives.  I believe it thrives primarily because of one overarching ethos:  a willingness to honor the past, to hold onto a few essentials of identity (i.e., the monarchy, which serves as a powerful emotional glue here) and a willingness to continually recreate the future with new structures arising from the ashes of the old ones.

Those times of destruction ended up giving life here.

It seems to me that the General Conference, and the continuing fallout from it, will be seen in hindsight as the turning point for The United Methodist Church.  It will mark our moment of destruction, when the old can no longer serve us, for the fire was too intense.

I shall be in prayer for all in North Texas during the next three days.  On Sunday, I shall start those prayers while  in worship at St. Paul’s Cathedral, another structure rebuilt from fire, and which today serves as a beacon of hope and faithful worship.

Sunday afternoon, I shall do my part to observe the Queen’s Jubilee as I watch a 1000 boat flotilla come down the Thames in her honor, and I shall pray that we, too, will find our center in the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, and hold fast to that truth.

Below are the three questions I asked Bishop Bledsoe after his invitation to conversation.  Although we had a phone conference a few days later, I did not receive answers to those questions.

They are just three among hundreds that must be asked openly and explored honestly as we go forward.

Questions for Bishop Bledsoe:

First, how exactly are you going to define an “effective” clergy person?

This blog post more fully asks that question. Effectiveness judged by numbers is highly contextually defined, and may have much less to do with the numbers that appear on various dashboards than they do with a fortunate demographic, some deep pockets in the congregation and a compromise of the message of the gospel and of personal integrity. Those numbers may have little to do with the calling, character, or missional fruitfulness of that clergy person.

To date, I have yet to see one comprehensive statement that clarifies what an effective clergy person looks like.

Also, while I understand the Bullseye measurement system now required as part of the consultation process is supposed to emphasize narratives not numbers, the system itself appears to give numbers only the large visual prominence highlighted by colors on quick glance.  Those initial impressions are rarely easily erased by reading smaller type-face explanations.

One more factor here:  I have heard several times that you and members of the Cabinet consider one third of the clergy in the North Texas Conference as “ineffective.”  Have you let that third know of that such designation is attached to their name and record?  How about the clergy deemed “effective?”  Do they know?

To use a business analogy:  if ⅓ of a given workforce is not doing their job, and if that significant portion of the workforce is never informed of the problem nor given opportunity to see and address the evaluations, how will there be improvement? And if the other ⅔ are working up to expectation, but are also never informed of such fact, but only told that (undefined) incompetence or ineffectiveness is a huge problem, then fear and anxiety will rule. Rarely do such emotions produce more self-motivated and willing work environments.

All clergy in this conference need to know how they have been classified (effective or ineffective; fruitful or unfruitful, or the latest terminology) and the reasons for that decision.

Second question concerns the issue of covenant.

I understand that the ruling at GC means that clergy can be placed on transitional leave for no reason other than a lack of missional appointment.  That means up to two years with no pay, no health insurance, no pension contributions, and, particularly for the more itinerant-in-practice clergy, no place to live. What plans are or will be in place to deal with this, especially the prohibitive cost of health insurance, or even its availability at all with certain pre-existing conditions?  Just saying, “oh we can buy in to the current system” is of little help because of the expense. I assume very, very few long-term clergy are going to find decent paying jobs in other fields immediately (if ever). Our training is uniquely specialized.

I am in favor of the elimination of the guaranteed appointment.  The church is not here to serve the clergy–it is very much the other way around.  It’s a rough and scary world with no guarantees for anyone in terms of employment security. We signed on for this work.  But with the removal of the guarantee, we also must continue to go where ever you as Bishop with your Appointive Cabinet decide, and I see considerably lessened reciprocal covenantal responsibility now. There are clergy killer churches. The most talented clergy person in one environment could be a dismal failure, i.e., “ineffective” in another.  What are your plans to deal with those kinds of churches?  [NB: the church I serve, Krum First UMC is a healthy, loving, serving and vital congregation.]

Third, the question of a possible double standard.  

The Bishops are exempt from the loss of guaranteed appointment.  No matter how poorly a Bishop may perform (and I have yet to see effectiveness standards for Bishops), the Bishop’s appointment, housing, pension, and health insurance are not put at risk.  Yet, as Bishops, you and your colleagues may now tell others to do what you yourselves will not do.  I can see little difference between that situation and that of members of our US Congress who enact burdensome laws on the public, but exempt themselves from following them.  Most people find that full of questionable ethics.  

I am not a schoolchild crying out, “Not Fair!”  Life never has been fair. This is a deeper question:  how does the Council of Bishops justify such privilege in the church that says we all are follow Jesus all the way to the cross?

Final Thoughts:

I also say this:  I’m tired of talking about all this. In my current Sabbatical, I’m opening my eyes more fully to the utter indifference most people have to the good news of Jesus, God among us, offering redemption and reconciliation. I see almost no awareness of the pervasiveness of human sin or the demanding holiness of God. We have lost the winsomeness of the power of the love of God to radically transform the world, both on an individual and a societal level.  Our insider language is nearly incomprehensible to the average person and our petty squabbles distasteful.

We have work to do.  I want to do this with within the group called United Methodist because I believe it is the best theological and connectional system available.  But no matter what happens to this connection, or what decisions are made about my place, or my not-place, within that connection, I will proclaim that Gospel. I will live it, breathe it, preach it, and serve it in all I say or do.  For this, I am called.

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May 25, 2012 · 7:28 am

Have We Lost Our Core Purpose?

Rev. Tom Griffith recently wrote an article about the structure of The United Methodist Church where he states that the core business of the church is NOT “making disciples of Jesus Christ.”  He writes,

If we truly believe in the Wesleyan concept of God working through God’s prevenient grace that brings a penitent to the point where s/he is ready to accept God’s saving grace, we must admit that we are not the ones who are doing the “saving” or creating of new disciples. That is God’s job!

Griffith goes on to say this:

Rather, our core business, from no later than 1840 on, has been the creation of worshiping congregations or communities in every possible geographic community.

He also states,

It was the job of those congregations, not to “save” peoples’ souls but to give to those whom God had “saved” a place where they could live in Christian community and grow in their discipleship.

This is a pretty radical statement, and it makes huge sense to me.  I personally have wrestled for years with the question, “How do I make a disciple of Jesus Christ?” No matter how I parse the question, I end up with the same answer: I can seek to live as a disciple, but for me to “make” a disciple indicates a power I just don’t have over the life of another, nor is it a power I should have.  That is in God’s hands–I am a participant in that task but not the primary mover.  I do not save people; I offer them a way to hear and respond to the saving grace of Jesus.

I am in the midst of writing a book about the church as garden, and am more and more aware that it is my job to create good soil where the seed, AKA “the disciple,” may grow, reproduce and serve others, but I myself can’t make the seed do its job.  I can only create the best place for it to live into its potential.

The actual growth of the seed is very much in the hands of God and is also affected by multiple outward factors, such as weather, systemic diseases, unexpected pests and dozens of other things that are out of my control.  My primary job is to provide rich and supportive soil so the seed can grow well. That’s what the worshiping community can and should do.

I look afresh at Matthew 28:17-20, here from The Message translation.  After the resurrection, the eleven disciples are looking for Jesus.

The moment they saw him they worshiped him. Some, though, held back, not sure about worship, about risking themselves totally. Jesus, undeterred, went right ahead and gave his charge: “God authorized and commanded me to commission you: Go out and train everyone you meet, far and near, in this way of life, marking them by baptism in the threefold name: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Then instruct them in the practice of all I have commanded you. I’ll be with you as you do this, day after day after day, right up to the end of the age.

Jesus has the authority–and gave a responsibility to those who followed him closely: “Go out and train everyone.” That is what Methodists have historically done by our methods. That’s what makes us Methodist.  We train those who are responding to that glorious prevenient grace by giving them a place to grow, thrive, and reproduce, and in so doing, feed the world.  When we are not doing that, we have lost our way. And that is best done by the local connection where people can indeed say to one another, “How goes it with your soul?”

Out of these worshiping communities has come some of the greatest good offered to humanity.  Hospitals and other significant health care movements, schools and universities, food and clothing for those who need it, political action to address systemic societal injustice, and courageous voices to speak prophetically about sin and oppression.

The problems come when those great goods become the reason for the worshiping communities to exist, i.e., when the local communities have purpose only to keep the things outside the immediate community alive.  When that happens, the core purpose has been breached and we find ourselves desperately trying to keep the lifeboats in working order because the mother ship is rapidly sinking.  Lifeboats are wonderful–but we really need a healthy mother ship as the base.

To touch yet once more then, on the structure of The United Methodist Church, here may be the problem:  the function of the lifeboats have taken priority over the health of the main ship.  There are times when, as pastor, I find I must actually protect the congregation from yet one more initiative by a lifeboat ministry because to support it means taking a plank out of the side of the main ship, i.e., the local worshiping community. Eventually, we’re all going to sink.

Can we wait for the next General Conference to address this, or expect that those who benefit most from lifeboat ministries to change their focus?  Perhaps it is up to those who have been given opportunity to serve the core purpose of the church, the local communities of worship, to take a powerful stand for our health and vitality, while retaining our holy responsibility to the larger connection.

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May 16, 2012 · 4:17 am

The Human Tendency: We Murder One Another Over the Details

Most of us can agree on major goals.  For the church, it is “Love God with all your heart, mind, strength and soul and love your neighbor as yourself” and “Make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.” We can rally around those things with unity and purpose.

BUT . . . the moment we seek to determine the details in the “how” of doing those acts of love and the work of being and making disciples, our unity often dissolves into interminable, soul-destroying squabbling and even death.

So, we make rules.  We do it as a nation with our Constitutions, our national, state, and local regulations.  We do it as a church with our Book of Discipline, with our committee and votes, with Robert and his Rules of Order.

We need them.  We need guidelines and structure.  We need what I have often called “the boundaries to our playground” so we can find creativity within that space as well as safety.

Ideally, the older and more mature we grow, the larger our playground becomes.

Ideally, we ourselves become more and more trustworthy and we use our own trustworthiness to trust others.

Ideally, we gain greater and greater freedoms to explore, to learn, to grow as confidence in one another grows and we can lessen the number of rules that govern our lives.

Reality:  we layer law upon law, rule upon rule, restriction upon restriction because much of our experience of life has been littered with betrayal, broken trust, power plays, unchecked aggression, and the wanton disregard of others in our efforts to expand our own little fiefdoms.

In politics, business and the mafia, betrayals, power grabs, and aggression are winning plays.  But in the church, we really are expected to live by different rules.

And yet, as much as we try to do so, we find ourselves following the same path  Then we do what people have done from the beginning: look to the legal code to find the answers.  The more we look to the code, the more that code has to expand to answer every contingency, thwart every possible power play, provide in advance for every betrayal, and, if cleverly enough written, offer special privileges to a certain elite.

This is human history.  This is what we do.  This is what we are doing today.  This is, among other things, The United Methodist Church.  This is the Roman Catholic Church.  This is Sharia, Islamic religious law. This is the holiness code of Orthodox Judaism.  This is the world of the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the Essenes and the Zealots.

This is the world that says, “My reality and opinion is the only reality that counts.  If yours is different from mine, then I must legislate yours out of existence. If that doesn’t work, then I must expel you from my community.”

This is the world I think Jesus broke into and said, “Whoa!!!!  You’ve missed the boat.  Again!”

I believe that God’s world is an extremely open place–but that is MY world.  Others completely disagree with me.  Years ago, I would have violently disagreed with me if I had known then what I am thinking now about theology, sexuality, the nature of God, the nature of the Holy Scriptures and the nature of the church. My internal world has changed radically over the years.

Forty years ago, I would have called the present “me” a heretic and demanded that the present “me” recant or be expelled.

Forty years ago, I would have burned the present “me” at the stake.

Forty years ago, I would have gone to holy war over those details because I just knew that I was right.

I still think I am right.  But my “rightness” is not the same as it was.  It is not the same as that of many of our African brothers and sisters in the faith.  It is not the same of my beloved husband, whom I love dearly and respect highly but with whom I disagree seriously over some major issues.  And we are both profoundly Christian, both United Methodist clergy and both have given our lives over to God.

At its best, that disagreement is held, nurtured, honored and covered by grace.  The wide umbrella of The United Methodist Church is our genius and our hope to actually live and offer that same grace to a world in desperate need of it.

At its worst, that disagreement leaves only room for one of us to live. The other must die.

At its worst, that disagreement says that those who recognize a spectrum of sexuality to be expressed within the bounds of holy covenant must be labeled as “non-biblical” or “heretics” or even “beastial” as I understood one delegate to General Conference affirmed.

At its worst, that disagreement means we write a book of rules so large, so thick, so indecipherable to the majority of the church that only the elite of the elite can decode it and make binding pronouncements about it.

At its worst, it means there will be only one person left standing when this fight is over:  the one with the biggest gun.

The song says, “Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.”  Can we, and those with whom I so hugely disagree and who so hugely disagree with me, find peace without insisting the other change?  Can we possibly trust the redemptive movement of the Holy Spirit both in our lives and in the lives of others to bring us to perfection while, in our moving on to perfection state, we work side by side WITH our disagreements to do the will of God on earth as it is in heaven?

Can we?  I think so.  This does not mean we stop saying, writing, blogging, or tweeting what we think is true.  It does means we recognize that others just don’t think the same way.

It doesn’t mean we don’t have a rule book or organizational structure.  It does mean we work to raise trust and lower the amount of minutiae so we are freed for creativity and exploration and the explosion of grace that we need.

Let’s keep the conversations going and the doors open.  Let’s lay down our swords.  Seriously.  Everyone.  Put them down.  Quit demonizing the “other.”  Respect each other’s worlds and opinions.  Create a holy structure big enough for us all where we can live in holy connection.  Let us speak our truths freely.  Let us disagree with respect and honor.

I will say this one thing:  the church that refuses to “agree to disagree” over issues that are not central to our faith but where a significant minority disagrees with the majority position (like sexuality) is in serious danger of ringing its death bell. For some are clearly saying, “my way or the highway” and are sure they are speaking for God.  That is the big difference in my forty-year ago self and my current self:  I no longer say I speak for God with absolute certainty.  I still speak for God, for I am called to preach, but with great trepidation and humility because I have learned this well:  I just might very possibly be wrong.

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May 14, 2012 · 8:27 am

Stop the Blame Game

I received a comment recently on this post where the writer, in defending special privileges for Bishops that are denied other clergy, wrote in explanation of why Bishops do little pastoring of the pastors under their care:   “they spend so much time troubleshooting the problem-children of the clergy that there is little time left over for hand-holding.”

Now, look at this situation:  Bishops blame the ineffective clergy for the reasons they can’t do their job and clergy blame bad or dead or uncooperative churches for the reasons they are being called ineffective and the churches blame both the Bishops and the clergy for their own sinking state in inability to reach outside themselves with the words of grace.

Now where are we?  The blame game must stop. Since the Bishops do have the privilege of life-long employment, I’d suggest that this would be a good place to stop the cycle, but also I call for everyone to stop blaming and get to faithful living, no matter the personal cost.

Also, since when is pastoral care just “hand-holding?”  In my church, pastoral care consists of far, far more than that.  It is deep soul care that encourages people to name sin, repent from it, find their redemption and move forward.  It walks people through grief and sorrow, holds their pain for a period of time until they are able to pick it up themselves, and equips them for the journey.  It helps discern the call of God upon individuals, offers insight and direction, and cheers them on as they seek to live most fully as God’s called-out people.  Good, prophetic pastoral care is essential for the church to go forward.  It can’t be neglected because “well, just look at how bad I’ve got it with my clergy” or whatever or whoever is convenient to blame.

Our Bishops carry the shepherd’s staff.  That office carries giant responsibilities, and those responsibilities include caring properly for the pastors under their care.  I personally don’t give a hoot about my own clergy security–if I am called to this life, I will pay a deep price for doing it.  That’s what happens to people who follow Jesus–it is rarely a life sprinkled with goods and comfort, despite Joel Osteen’s prosperity contentions.

Here is the point: if we call ourselves, as United Methodists or any other church group, a spiritual organization, devoted to doing the work of God, then we need to act like it–and I just can’t find in Jesus’ teaching that the leaders get to escape what his/her followers must endure simply because they are named leaders.  Jesus went to the cross for his followers–and we are told to do the same.  I am not exempt from that, and neither is anyone else including our Bishops. Nonetheless, they have exempted themselves–and for that, I do think the heavens weep.

There is a deep, deep hypocrisy here that is not being addressed. Never, ever in Kingdom of Heaven living, do the ends justify the means.

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May 2, 2012 · 6:25 am

One Thoughtless Move

From what I can tell as I read other blogs and reports from General Conference, it was the rigid adherence to Roberts Rules of Order and a case of thoughtlessness that led to the dismantling yesterday of a key element in the United Methodist system.

Now, is the current system working well?  Nope.  But I’m betting the unintended consequences of this move, to give Bishops the power to put clergy on a two year transitional leave, without financial support, without health insurance, without pension contributions, and for many, without housing, and for clergy to have no power to refuse appointments that could lead to the as yet undefined state of “ineffective” will change everything we do.  Some of it will be good, but much will be lost.

The big loss will be in the nature of clergy covenant.  It’s been shaky for a while anyway, with a few getting very, very rich and comfortable and most dealing with aging churches in transition neighborhoods where the future is dim.  Now, Bishops, who managed to ensure that they stay Bishops for life before this debacle yesterday, will find themselves more isolated than ever from the realities of the work and ministry of most of those under their command.

I write, “under their command” deliberately.  Covenant has been broken there, and in a most egregious way.

I actually was in favor of the elimination of guaranteed appointment, with significant safeguards for clergy and with an understanding that Bishops would come under the same rubric.

My passion is for the gospel, not for the protection of clergy employment.  My hope is to see the kingdom of heaven grow.  But unrighteousness does not lead to righteousness.  When we treat one another in our covenant connection poorly, we lose our right to tell the world that the gospel transforms lives.

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April 30, 2012 · 3:27 pm

Biblical Ignorance and the Delegates to General Conference

I have been reading blog after blog about what is happening at General Conference, taking particular interest in the ones that supported the now dead legislation that would taking language out of the Book of Discipline that condemns homosexual practices.

I have numerous thoughts here. The thing that hits me the hardest here is the utter biblical ignorance that is being expressed by those who oppose the full inclusion of our GLBT brothers and sisters into the life of the church. They pick up a few verses from Scripture and use them to condemn or go with that disgusting “Hate the sin, love the sinner” justification.

If we are going to take a literal adherence to biblical teaching, without regard to essential hermeneutical and interpretative issues, as to who is worthy of ordination–and I’m willing here to just use the New Testament–then we need to do these things:
1. First, remove from clergy leadership all the divorced.
2. Remove from clergy leadership all females.
3. Remove from clergy leadership all single men.
4. Remove from clergy leadership all childless men.
5. Remove from clergy leadership all men with long hair.
6. Remove the idea of ordination completely from our vocabulary.
7. Return to the custom of the Lord’s Supper being a simple part of the communal meal without need for special words of consecration.
8. Stop any fights we may have against any who are keeping slaves.
9. Insist that plural marriage take place when a woman’s husband dies and leaves her childless–she MUST marry her husband’s brother and MUST have sex with him until she has a male child.
10. Sell everything we have and give it to the poor.
11. Own everything in common.
12. Empty our pension plans and take no thought of the future, for this day has enough trouble of its own.
13. Start handling snakes and raising people from the dead.

Anyone want to give a few of these things a try in order to have a more “biblical” church?

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February 28, 2012 · 10:38 am

Character, Charisma and Covenant

As I have posted openly about my horror over the situation unfolding at  St. Luke “Community” UMC, I have been accused of being judgmental and throwing Mr. Gordon, former Senior Pastor there, under the bus.

Three points:

  • First, anyone can begin a church.  Unlike, for example, the medical profession, there are no national standards of credentialing for clergy to hang out a shingle.
  • Second, Mr. Gordon has a lawsuit filed against him but no judgment.  There are only allegations of improper behavior, no court tested proof.  He is, in the sight of the law, innocent until proven guilty.
  • Third:  Mr. Gordon voluntarily relinquished his ordination credentials.  He cut himself loose from The United Methodist Church (UMC) and its system of both protection and accountability for its clergy and the laity who trust those clergy to lead them spiritually.

The relinquishment of credentials in the UMC  is a “no-turning back” act.  We probably have the longest, most convoluted, and most challenging path to ordination of any denominational body.  On average, it takes eight to ten years to complete the process.  We must earn an advanced degree from an accredited seminary, offer multiple years of service, face examination from every angle, pass background, health, and credit checks, and engage in difficult interviews with peer groups.

When a person is ordained as Elder or Deacon and elected to full membership in the Annual Conference, it means that such an individual has entered into a profound covenant relationship with all others who have that same status.  When Mr. Gordon first came to the North Texas Annual Conference (Annual Conferences are both geographical locations and a collection of clergy and laity), he himself was given the privilege of serving as Chair of the Order of Elders.  He knew, or certainly should have known, that he was in covenant, in a promise relationship of devotion and unstinting service to God, to the church and to one another with each of us.

He has broken ties with that covenant.

When I first heard that there were difficulties at St. Luke, my first response was sympathy for Mr. Gordon.  Serving as pastor is a lonely job (this is why the covenant part of this is so important), and often, very often, what we do is seriously misunderstood by many.

Attacks come, almost always from well-meaning people who also love God and the church, but who find themselves very unhappy with the pastor.  Had Mr. Gordon, even with the apparent seriousness of  the charges that were filed against him, chosen to remain within this covenant connection, he would have been given counsel, a right to a fair trial before a church court, confidentiality, and a lot of support.

We clergy do help our own.  No one wants to see a brother or sister go down.

But Mr. Gordon walked away from that trust relationship.  He walked away from an inquiry that might have been painful to him, but that also includes a way to bring restoration and reconciliation. He walked away from any sense of accountability to others.

He has now set himself up as an independent pastor—he has titled himself “Senior Pastor” and I’m sure can get credentials from some source so he can at some point rightly call himself “Reverend” again.

Mr. Gordon has enormous talent as preacher and vocalist. He offers huge charisma—charism  is from the Greek word for gift—and Mr. Gordon is extraordinarily gifted.

My question:  does deep, formed character underlie the external giftedness?  Has he practiced the disciplines of the faith to such a point that, when the temptations connected to fame, power and adulation come his way, he is able to stand tall and chose the painful way of discipline and holiness?

Being accountable to others has very little to recommend it if comfort and public adulation are major life goals. It means others have the right to peer into our souls and ask painful, probing questions. It means entering again and again into the practice of repentance, looking honestly at ourselves and our practices, and choosing the high road of integrated character development and internal transformation, even when the low road of relying primarily on talents and gifts seems so much more desirable.

A well-shaped character does not mean a person doesn’t make mistakes, sometimes very serious ones.  It does mean that mistakes lead to repentance, greater openness to the revealing light of God, and a willingness to take the time necessary to sort things out with others, with God and with themselves.

Again, by his relinquishment of his credentials and walking away from The United Methodist Church and its often cumbersome and lengthy methods of accountability and connection, Mr. Gordon has set himself and his considerable talent free from a system of accountability.

And that appalls me.  We’re a nation of shallow thinkers and ostrich-like followers where our religious leaders are concerned.  Anyone who asks people to use good critical thinking skills, to dig into doubts, and to engage in reflective faith practices is generally swept aside by the far more powerful leader who says, “Just trust me—I’ll make you feel good.”  I wrote here why I think many clergy often get away with unhealthy patterns.

My guess is that Mr. Gordon will found a large church and will rake in more money and fame than he has ever seen before.  But I ask: will it be a holy place?  A place where contrite and broken hearts find peace and forgiveness before God?  Will it be a place where all will be safe from potentially predatory practices by leadership?

I hope so.  I’m willing to be wrong in my thoughts and anger here for the sake of the Kingdom of God.

But I don’t think I am.  Charisma alone is insufficient for holy leadership.  It must be anchored by character and covenant.

I hope those who choose to follow Mr. Gordon in this new venture keep that in mind.

I hope those who choose to be a part of any church where I serve also keep it in mind.

Added Friday, March 1:  Second lawsuit filed against Mr. Gordon. Please see this link for information.

I have no further comment.

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February 27, 2012 · 1:39 pm

Tyrone Gordon to begin new church this Sunday, March 4.

Last night, someone sent me this image:

I very much hoped this was a joke, but have just phoned the Radisson Hotel and they confirmed that this event is to take place on Sunday.

I continue to grieve at the devastation now being experienced more fully at St. Luke “Community” UMC in the aftermath of Mr. Gordon’s long tenure there as Senior Pastor.  As almost everyone knows, after The United Methodist Church, following the dictates of The Book of Discipline, washed their hands of Mr. Gordon, a lawsuit was filed with complaints of alleged sexual harassment by Mr. Gordon of one young man in his employ.

The lawsuit is public record. I have read it and was sickened by the allegations in it.  If anyone would like to know where to find it, please email me and I will direct you to the URL where it may be found.

I ask again here:  does Gordon just escape, free to allegedly prey on others, because by relinquishing his clergy credentials (which certainly looks like a  tacit admission of guilt and casts much doubt upon the character of Mr. Gordon), The United Methodist Church must stay silent here?  My soul in in anguish.  I trust the good people of St. Luke are more than anguished.

Added Tuesday, February 28:  a response to those who say I am being overly critical of Mr. Gordon.

Added Friday, March 1:  Second lawsuit filed against Mr. Gordon. Please see this link for information.

I have no further comment.

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