(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.
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.