Need a Tank of Gas and Food

The hand-lettered sign as I was leaving the health club caught my attention, but not nearly as much as the man, woman, and two young girls standing with the sign.  As I waited for traffic to clear, I saw another vehicle pause to talk. I confess that I was mildly relieved, that there would be no need for me to engage the situation. But the paused vehicle drove away after a few words.  (I wonder what that conversation was about?)  The traffic cleared, and I pulled up to say, “I’ll buy you a tank of gas.”  The man smiled gratefully and herded the family into a minivan with California plates to drive up to the pumps.

We met at the pump, and, in broken English, the man told me the gist of the story. A job in St. Louis had ended, and they were trying to get back to California. His wife and the two cute-as-a-button girls looked at me uncertainly, not understanding what we were saying. I had been wearing a church t-shirt while working out, so I used it as a visual aid to explain that I was buying him a tank of gas on behalf of my church. He smiled gratefully, and we filled his tank.  “Are you hungry?  I have food at church that I can give you, if you’ll just follow me once we’re done.”  After all, his sign had mentioned food, and I kept looking at the two little girls.  I had some toys for them at church, too.  He didn’t seem to understand what I was trying to communicate. “I wish I knew Spanish, so I could explain about the food!” I exclaimed, but the man just looked at me, politely quizzical. I don’t know if it was the language barrier, or if he wanted something more than the peanut butter, cereal, and Vienna sausages that I could offer, but he declined. 

And then he said, “340 miles.  Until gas gone. 340 miles.” Aha.  This tank of gas would not quite get him to the Colorado border. I knew his hope, that I might buy him a gas card to get him closer to his family’s destination. Our church policy wisely allows us to give only an actual tank of gas, not a gift card that could be exchanged for something else. I could help him for one step along his journey, but I couldn’t help him get all the way home. He would have to rely on the next someone else for that. I shook my head no, and he thanked me for the gas. As he and his family climbed back into the van, I wished that I could do more. I wished that I could get him home, get him a job, make sure his family was fed and cared for. I wished that I spoke enough Spanish to explain about the food and my regrets about the gas card.  I wished that I could have understood more about what had them standing in Blue Springs on a Wednesday afternoon clutching a sign. Like every clergyperson who meets a string of people with material needs that can’t be met, I wished. 

As I stood there wishing, they drove off. And suddenly, one Spanish phrase that I knew came to my mind, too late to speak to them: “Dios bendiga.” My wishing became a prayer, a prayer for God’s blessing. When it comes down to it, that’s pretty much the best I have to offer anyway.

The First Schism- A Historical Perspective

(Note: This post is longer than my typical blog and is more along the lines of a history paper.  If you're not particularly interested in current UMC conversations about sexual orientation, feel free to skip this one.)

Schism. As is typical in our quadrennial cycle leading up to General Conference, issues concerning sexual orientation are coming to the forefront of our attention. This time around,  the drumbeat for schism is sounding more loudly than ever before. A statement seeking schism has been issued and is garnering attention because it is said to have been signed by many pastors of our largest churches, although the signers have not released their names. 

This talk of schism has spurred me to research the first time the Methodist Church experienced schism.  The issue of that day was slavery, and the time was the early 1800’s, years before the American Civil War.  I’ve taken the time to read a contemporaneous account of these events, told by one of the first bishops in the breakaway church, the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.  Edited by Bishop William May Wightman, Life of William Capers, D.D., One of the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South including an Autobiography was published in 1902 (although the autobiography itself was written earlier) by the Publishing House of the M.E. South and is now available online.

William Capers, the author, was born in the late 1700’s to parents who were converts to Methodism. As a baby, he was visited by Bishop Francis Asbury and later became an itinerant Methodist pastor under his episcopacy.  Capers was well-educated, having been in law school when he had a conversion experience and immediate call to ministry.  His autobiography contains many interesting snippets of the hardships of life of the earliest itinerant ministers.  Capers served God and the Methodist Church faithfully in many difficult situations.

Serving in Georgia and South Carolina, Capers ministered to both white and black. By and large, the African-Americans that he preached to were enslaved, although he spoke highly of a free African-American preacher who was held in high esteem by people of all races. Even in his glowing account of that preacher, though, Capers noted that the man was appropriately deferential to the whites with whom he came into contact. 

As General Conference 1844 approached, the issue of slavery arose in the church once again. The northern part of the Methodist Church announced that they intended to bring forward a resolution barring any bishops from owning slaves. This resolution was prompted by Bishop Andrews of Georgia, who owned two slaves.

Upon a close examination of his situation, it appears that Bishop Andrews was trying to do his best within the strictures of his current day.  When he inherited a female slave, it was illegal for him to free her unless she left the state of Georgia.  He offered her passage to Liberia, a common destination for freed slaves. She declined the move. Although she remained his slave by law, he allowed her to move about the community freely. Similarly, when his wife brought a male slave into their marriage, their agreement was that the slave would be freed as soon as he could make his own way in the world. Neither of these agreements changed the fact that Bishop Andrews participated, albeit involuntarily, in a horrific institution. However, it does indicate that he made an effort to ameliorate the situation as best as he could.

In fact, once he heard about the pending resolution against him, Bishop Andrews was willing to resign the episcopacy. However, he was convinced to stay and make his case by others who did not want to cede the point. In his autobiography, Capers lamented that much of the 1844 General Conference was spent discussing the resolution against Bishop Andrews, rather than attending to other pressing issues.

Allow some of Capers’ words to describe what happened at that General Conference  “The anti-slavery fanaticism of the Eastern and Northern portion of the Methodist Episcopal Church, reached a crisis at this General Conference, and it turned out to be the last at which delegates from the Northern and Southern Conferences met in assembly” (398).

To help resolve the dispute and move the General Conference forward, a committee made up of three from the Northern Conferences and three from the Southern Conferences was convened.  They were to meet together for two days to come up with a plan for “pacification.” At the end of two days, they agreed that peace between the factions was impossible.  “This failure satisfied all thoughtful minds that the dismemberment of the Church was an event inevitable. The knell of the Church-union was already sounded.  The difficulty was unmanageable by human wisdom or power” (400).

Following this unsuccessful attempt at unity, the General Conference prepared to hold a vote on the proposal to not allow bishops to hold slaves. The floor debate began.  The southern churches spoke vehemently, saying that approval of this motion would be injurious to the interests of the southern churches. In one riveting speech, a Dr. Winans said that passage of this resolution would make it impossible for southern preachers to preach to masters and slaves: 

“When we tell you that we preach to a hundred thousand slaves in our missionary field, we only announce the beginning of our work . . . When we add that there are two hundred thousand within our reach that have no Gospel unless we give it to them, it is still but the same announcement of the beginnings of the opening of that wide and effectual door . . . O close not this door!  Shut us out not from this great work to which we have been so signally called by God” (406).

Capers reflected on those who were not moved by this speech, “Was it possible that these men did not care about the souls of the Negroes?”

In spite of these moving speeches, the vote was held the next day and came out in favor of the resolution to oust Bishop Andrews until he no longer owned slaves, 111-69.  Immediately, the southern churches moved along the path to dissolution, presenting the following statement to General Conference:

“The delegates of the Conferences in the slaveholding states take leave to declare to the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church that the continued agitation on the subject of slavery and the abolition in a portion of the Church, the frequent action by General Conference, and especially the extra-judicial proceedings against Bishop Andrew which resulted, on Saturday last, of the virtual suspension of him from his office as superintendent, must produce a state of things in the South, which renders a continuance of the jurisdiction of that General Conference over those Conferences inconsistent with the success of the ministry in the slaveholding states” (409).

This statement was followed up with a plan of separation. In essence, every church was allowed to keep their own property, and each clergy member was allowed to choose which Conference to join. The only sticking point was the “Book Concern,” or the proceeds from the Publishing House. That issue was resolved later in a civil court.

The deed was done, and schism had occurred.  The two churches remained separate until the Uniting Conference in 1939. Please note that it took over 70 years after the issue of slavery had been decided in the secular arena for the sacred arena of the Methodist church to catch up.

The similarities in language from this schism to our current potential schism are noteworthy.  Capers spoke of the “anti-slavery fanaticism” of the Northern and Eastern delegations. Indeed, both sides in today’s debate are prone to consider the others fanatics for their ill-advised opinions.  Just as Capers lamented the waste of an entire General Conference on the slavery issue, many people today talk about the distraction of the homosexuality debate from our core mission.

Another similarity is the term “mission field," with much of the debate in 1844 centering on the need to reach the slaves with the Gospel.  Unsurprisingly, once it was legal for them to do so, the mission field of the ME South fled.  Within 5 years of the end of the civil war, the 1870 General Conference transferred all of their African-American constituents into the newly formed Colored Methodist Episcopal Church, now known as the Christian Methodist Episcopal Church.  By 1892, there were 1,282,750 white members of the ME South church and 357 African-American members. 

It would be easy for me to follow my natural inclinations at this point and make my case clearly on the side which history proved to be right. However, I realize that both sides in our current debate could place themselves in the role of victor.  Both sides make arguments related to the mission field. “Think about Africa and the harm it would to do to that huge mission field if we broadened our stance on homosexuality!”  “Think about the mission field of the gay and lesbian community and, perhaps even more significantly, the rapidly-increasing number of Americans and others around the globe who denounce discrimination based on sexual orientation!”  

In the first schism, both sides claimed the Scriptural high ground, yet history announced a clear victor in that contest over Scripture. No one in the developed world today, no matter how Biblically literal their leanings, would use Scripture to make a case for the validity of the institution of slavery.  The question of whether history will similarly treat our current conversation about Scripture and sexual orientation remains to be seen. 

In looking back on that schism, it is apparent that neither the kingdom of God nor the Methodist Church was any better for it.  Even today, the lingering effects of that break are felt. Like many of my colleagues, I have served a church that was two blocks away from another United Methodist Church. Here in the Midwest, it was not unusual to have both branches of Methodism represented in the same community, and the residual congregations remain. Additionally, who of us, in teaching confirmation, hasn’t struggled with explaining to young teens the fact that many of the various branches of Methodism are due directly to our mishandling of slavery and race relations?  No, schism may have been the most expedient thing, but it was not our finest hour in serving Jesus Christ.

The 1844 schism was notable for the relative ease with which it was accomplished. Although there was a court case about the proceeds from the Publishing House, most churches and clergy knew clearly which side of the dividing line they inhabited.  How would such decisions be made today? With few exceptions, most of our United Methodist churches, at least in the United States, are made up of people from throughout the political and theological spectrum.  Views around homosexuality continue to evolve among individual members with each discovery of a gay child or grandchild.  The views of a pastor may be different from the views of her or his church.  Splitting over this issue would be messy and would involve the splitting up of congregations and the severing of pastors from churches which they serve. Courts around our nation would likely be inundated with disputes regarding property and assets. How would these acts further the witness of the United Methodist Church?

The Methodist Church was not served well by schism in 1844, and there is no reason to think that this current crisis is any more severe or that the outcome would be any better if we split. Living together in Christian love might be messy and tense at times, but it has been a faithful way for the church to exist for generations before us and for generations to come.