Missing Limbs Restored

 

As I was reading Scripture this morning, I came across something I hadn’t noticed before. Matthew 15:30 describes Jesus on a mountain, where people are flocking to him for healing. Among those who sought healing were, as described in Wilda Gafney’s beautiful translation, “people missing body parts.” Missing body parts? That’s a pretty big ask in terms of healing. Although it seems impossible, sure enough, v. 31 assures us that “people missing body parts (were) made whole.”

Now that must have made for some interesting conversations back in the neighborhood. “Hey, have you seen Vern lately?” “Not really. Always felt sorry for him, losing that arm in the war and everything.” “It’s back.” “Vern’s back?” “No, his arm. His arm grew back.” “Yeah, riiiiight. Let’s get you out of the sun.” “No, really, it’s back. Here’s Vern, you can see for yourself.” Vern smiles and waves with both arms from a distance. Thud as the disbelieving neighbor keels over in shock.

Our body, the United Methodist Church that is, is in the process of being severed. We’re losing limbs from our make and model of the body of Christ. As with any amputation, it’s painful. It’s getting messier by the minute, as voices are being raised, lawsuits are being filed, falsehoods are being spread. This moment in United Methodist history does not feel like Christ’s finest hour. And, I’ve got to confess that it’s getting to me. Yesterday, I exited a UMC clergy FB group that had made the decision to be open to clergy who have amputated themselves from the UMC to join the GMC. Usually I’m not quite that rash, and I somewhat regret leaving the group so abruptly. Somewhat. I’m also okay with taking a break from folks who are part of a group that seems to be trying to burn down my denomination on their way out.

And then this morning’s Scripture. It turns out that Jesus specializes in taking bodies that are missing parts and making them whole again. Doing that to a physical body is pretty darn amazing. Doing that to a spiritual body? Based on how we UMCs are treating each other these days, that seems even harder. And yet there is Jesus, on a mountaintop and doing the hard work of healing while the world rages on around him.

As I think about where my hope lies this morning, it isn’t that we’re all going to suddenly start playing nice with each other. While that would be a good thing, I’m not holding my breath. Instead, my hope lies in the one who can heal severed limbs. As we are torn asunder, may we keep our eyes focused on Christ as we pray and work for healing and restoration to a body that is whole.

Not Disaffiliating from Grace

 (Note: This post is United Methodist-centric. If United Methodism isn't your tribe, or if you have no interest in our current situation, feel free to disregard this one and enjoy a lovely winter day.)

As you’re aware, the UMC is in conversation about splitting over matters regarding sexual orientation, in particular marriage and ordination. General Conference 2020 was going to iron out the details, enabling churches to move ahead in their preferred direction. The working assumption is that the moderate/progressive UMs will retain custody of “The United Methodist Church” and all its workings, and the conservatives will move into a new denomination of their creation, “The Global Methodist Church.” A highly-negotiated plan, The Protocol, had been ironed out by key parties and was holding together by a thread coming into General Conference 2020.

And then COVID. General Conference 2020 was rescheduled to 2021 and now                    re-rescheduled to 2022, and it’s not looking good for the September 2022 date.

Why does COVID have power to stall the UMC? The only body that can make these decisions about separation is the General Conference, a gathering of delegates from around the world. In addition to the normal barriers to large gatherings that have been and still are in place, over 40% of our General Conference delegates come from outside the US, many from nations in Africa and elsewhere with scant access to the vaccine. Although great minds around the world have tried to come up with various solutions to allow us to actually hold General Conference, limitations imposed by a worldwide pandemic and our UM Book of Discipline continue to prevent us from holding General Conference.

We are hamstrung by our own rules. And we can’t change the rules that are keeping us from gathering until we are able to gather in person to change the rules.

So, what’s been happening in United Methodism while we’re all stuck in this interminable holding pattern? The answer is both that nothing is happening, and that a great deal is happening.

On the “nothing is happening” side of things, the restrictive, punitive rules of General Conference 2019 remain in place. There is no agreed-upon plan for separation.

On the “a great deal is happening” side of things, churches and clergy on both sides are increasingly tired of waiting. Some progressives, both clergy and churches, have been living as if we are already a renewed, progressive denomination. Some conservatives, both clergy and churches, have begun to break away. It is a messy, liminal time in which we are COVID-trapped together for the duration.

In short, we are like a couple that has decided to divorce but is stuck living in the same house. It is not easy, and it is often not pretty.

In Missouri, there have been some developments that have warranted a response from our bishop. There are a few sizeable traditionalist churches in Missouri that are choosing to break away, to “disaffiliate,” even before General Conference has been able to meet to hash out the separation. The UMC and the Missouri Annual Conference have established guidelines for this process for churches that want to leave now, intended to create equity on all sides. One particular issue, for instance, is to insure that departing churches pay their fair share towards the pension fund for retired pastors. Otherwise, if our pension funds become unstable, remaining churches would have to pay more because of churches that walked out on their pension obligation.

Unfortunately, there are churches that are choosing to act outside of this process and, in their leaving, are leaving our retirees in the lurch. Their actions necessitate a response from the Missouri Conference. If you’d like to know more, read the attachments to this email.

I’m grateful that Bishop Farr and the Conference are doing the hard work of accountability with these clergy and churches. Their strong response is helping to protect our retired clergy and all of the churches in the Missouri Conference. Because they are taking on this role so ably, I am freed from the burden of having to express outrage or indignation, although I confess to the occasional eye roll. My most righteous of indignations wouldn’t do anything to affect the reality of the situation, and it would only serve to steal a little light from my own soul on this already-gloomy winter day.

So, I am choosing to trust the system and to spend my time and energy working and praying for grace.

It’s not news that divorce is messy. After all, if things were good between the two sides, there wouldn’t be need for a divorce, would there? These deep divisions within the United Methodist part of Christ’s body seem to be leading inevitably to separation. We didn’t choose these circumstances, yet we can choose our response to the circumstances.

I hope you’ll join me in praying for one another, even folks who are choosing to leave our UM family. Pray for our bishop and Conference leadership as they navigate the legal complexities of this situation on our behalf. Pray for those of us who are staying within the UMC, that grace may be the defining characteristic of our renewed denomination.

As we work to re-create a denomination based upon grace, may the very same grace that we dream be lived out in our own grace-full actions in these moments.

(Okay, and maybe with an occasional eye-roll.)

Read Bishop Farr's letter here. Read FAQs on Disaffiliation in Missouri here

Observing January 6

 

Today’s the day we remember when a crazed ruler was willing to do anything to retain power. He knew his days in power were coming to an end, because a new ruler had been selected. His fear was contagious and spread to his followers. He co-opted the religious folks, so that he could bend Scriptural passages to his will. His willingness to do anything to retain his power led to loss of life. In spite of his best efforts, however, he was unable to block the new kid in town.

Today is, as I’ve described above, Epiphany. It is the traditional day that marks the coming of the three sages (wise men, kings, magi) to find the Christ child. Herod’s shadow hangs heavily over this story. When he hears that a new king has been born, Herod summons the faith leaders of the day to get more information. They give him a Bible verse or two, and, thus armed, Herod works to thwart this new king before he has begun. The sages are swept inadvertently into this plan, but God intervenes to send them home by another way, a way that will keep them far away from Herod. And yet. When Herod realizes his original plot isn’t going to work, he slaughters every male child under the age of two, just to make sure that there will be no boy king to survive and take away his power.

There’s another terribly painful event that is being commemorated today, on its one-year anniversary. That event also features a fearful ruler who sought to use everything within his power, including religious leaders, to retain his power. (And, to be clear, while I see parallels between the two rulers, I am NOT equating our current president with Jesus. There is no human, no church, no political party, nor anything of earthly nature that deserves that designation, although we seem to forget that fact with great regularity.)

God’s intervention in humanity through the coming of Christ was set against a backdrop of great political turmoil and fear. I take great comfort in that reality today. It turns out that God does some of the very greatest work during the toughest times. God doesn’t wait for human perfection to bring light, but God brings light exactly when things are so bleak that we can barely see the end of our nose.

Isaiah dared to declare God’s light and glory at a time of immense political upheaval and threat.

Arise, shine; for your light has come,
   and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.

 For darkness shall cover the earth,
   and thick darkness the peoples;
but the Lord will arise upon you,
   and his glory will appear over you. Isaiah 60:1-2

These words from Isaiah had to have been echoing in John’s ears as he wrote about the meaning of the coming of Christ.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. John 1:5.

Today, while I step away from the nonstop doom-cycling of news stories about the other commemoration of January 6, I choose to celebrate Epiphany. I’ve lit some candles as the dawn breaks this morning, and I’ll keep them burning. I’ll spend some time being grateful for the places where light has come in my life this last year, and I’ll ask God’s guidance and light in days to come. And, of course, I’ll make that request not only on behalf of myself and those whom I love, but for my nation and for our world.

Today, I choose to celebrate Epiphany.