salvagedfaith

Thinking about running as a General Conference Delegate?

Posted on March 27, 2019Leave a comment

A number of people have reached out to ask about what my experience was, what they need to know, what all is involved. Here are some of my initial thoughts… and if there are comments/questions I’ll continue to expand and update this in response.

I am still praying and discerning whether I want to do this again, but even typing this all out has been helpful for that process to me!

Time Commitment

Reading/Studying of Legislation (see below) – take a few hours, every week, from November/December – May
Two or three retreats with the delegation (usually a Friday-Saturday) where we discuss legislation, hear from experts and interest groups about why they think particular legislation is important, and build relationships
General Conference itself – two full weeks – 24/7… it’s life-giving and exhausting all at the same time… like Annual Conference stretching on x5.
Jurisdictional Conference – far less of both a time and emotional/spiritual commitment… focused on electing Bishops, less on actual legislation
Things to consider:
Do I have the support of my family, work, etc. to give time to this commitment? This is a big stressful endeavor and what you don’t want is the additional stress of deadlines, resentments, etc.
Am I prepared to do the extra work of spiritual/emotional/physical self-care to keep myself healthy (in all aspects) for this process? You have to get enough sleep, drink lots of water, pray, have good resiliency.

The legislation preparation… I think to be a good delegate, you need to be prepared to know your legislation.

You will be assigned to a particular committee, and you are going to be the expert on that section so that you can teach/explain what is being discussed there to others on the delegation. I worked to prepare charts, summaries, etc for my fellow delegates.
There are 12 committees that correspond with different areas of our life together, like judicial administration, faith and order, local churches, etc.
Others on the delegation will become experts on the other areas, but you should also have read and how you want to vote on everything before you get to General Conference.
I used a lot of tabs, highlighters, different colored pens… whatever you need to do to mark-up your legislation so that you know what you’d like to support, where you have questions, any changes you’d like to see made, etc.
You also need to work to familiarize yourself with Roberts Rules of Order (at least the basics) and to have a good sense of what is in our Book of Discipline. Part of my prep included adding tabs to make it easier to navigate my BoD so I knew where different sections were. I worked to figure out what the BoD said in my section in particular, so I could see what the changes in legislation meant.

General Conference Itself

First week is legislative committees. The one you are assigned to will meet and your smaller group (75ish people) will work through every item in your section. You will make amendments, argue for and against, etc.

You will elect a chair, vice chair, and secretary – these are VERY important positions, and so if you don’t know folks, turn to people who might share your perspective to get some advice about who would be good in those positions and why. I think its important that they be fair and unbiased, rather than on your side. These positions, especially the chair, have a lot of power as to who gets to speak within that group.
Because this is a smaller group, you really do have the ability to be heard here. Raise your hand. Go to the mic. Ask questions. Make changes. This is the place to really shape the process.
Everything that has an affirmative vote of a certain percentage in legislative committee goes to a consent calendar to be voted on in a block.
Everything else, or things that have minority reports, will be addressed individually by the larger body.
If you aren’t happy with how something turns out in voting, you can create or sign on to a minority report. This will then bring your perspective back to the larger body.
I had an amazing experience in my legislative committee. We broke into two subgroups and so thirty of us had really good conversation, listened well, made friendships, worked to build consensus… it was the beauty of the process at work!

Consent Calendars

These are published on one day, and then the next day we vote on them.
You have to pay attention to them. Your homework each night is to look individually at the consent calendars and to go back to your notes of what you want to support or not. I usually then transfer my notes back to the consent calendar.
If there are things you don’t agree with that are on the consent calendar, they can be removed. This is done by filling out a form and getting 20 other signatures. Then it comes before the body later for a discussion.

Plenary Discussion

We will vote on whole consent calendars at once, or on individual pieces of legislation. You have the ability to speak for, against, amend, ask questions, etc.
Plenary is VERY different from legislative committees. It is much harder to get to speak. You register electronically to do so and then the presiding bishop calls on you. I like to talk and interact and engage… and to not be able to say something or to be waiting all day and never get the opportunity to do so is part of the process.
I have found these discussions to be brutal. Emotions/Spirits are high. People are polarized. Our process here is very unhealthy and doesn’t lend well to what we think of as Christian Conferencing.
This is the part of the process where you need the most emotional/spiritual/physical resiliency.

Worship – don’t skip it – it is often the most life-giving and replenishing part of what we do. These folks have worked hard to help support us and to keep us focused on God and I have always found it to be balm to my soul.

You can’t do it alone.

There are group chats/apps/discussions going from various caucus groups. Get connected with them. Things, particular in plenary, move so fast and sometimes it is hard to understand what is happening. These groups often have connected folks who understand polity well who help to explain why something is being said or what the process is. They also can provide quick updates as to the impact of amendments. You are absolutely free to still vote your conscience, but they provide some helpful suggestions.
These groups also provide emotional/social support. You get to know people and find out when meet-ups are and can build connectional relationships.
Take time to have meals with others… listen to people you disagree with to see where they are coming from. Explain your positions not to convince, but to help them understand, too.
Let others help you and support you.

The Wilderness: Trust and Manna

Posted on March 25, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Exodus 16:1-8, Matthew 4:2-4, Deuteronomy 8:1-8
This week, as we continue our journey in the wilderness, we come to the first of three temptation stories.
Three trials.
Three decision points.
Three opportunities to be shaped by God.

The first is about a basic necessity for life: food.

Jesus has been fasting for forty days and nights and Matthew’s gospel tells us that he was starving. And so the tempter comes and whispers in his ear, “You’re God’s son… tell these stones to become bread.”
It would be so easy wouldn’t it?
For God I mean, not for us.
But for the Son of God, the one who could turn water into wine and multiply loaves and fishes, the one who was literally the Bread of Life… wasn’t this an opportunity to demonstrate that miraculous life-giving power within him?

“No,” Jesus replies, and he looks back to the scriptures of our faith… “We live on more than bread, we live on the word of God.”
He is actually quoting from Deuteronomy 8:3.
Moses has reminded them about the ten commandments from God and now is expanding upon what it means to live them out.
He tells them that this long road through the wilderness has been working to humble them, to test them, to discover what is really in their heart and if they were capable of truly following.
God humbled them by making them hungry… and then by feeding them with manna… so they could learn that life was sustained by more than basic necessities – whether we live or die is in God’s hands.

This is not an easy lesson to learn.

It wasn’t easy for the Israelites and it certainly isn’t easy for us.

Imagine, that just a month and a half ago, the Israelites were still in the land of Egypt.
Already they were looking back upon their days in captivity with rose-colored glasses.
They were fondly recalling that at the end of the day, they could sit by the fire and their pots were full and bread was plentiful. They were stuck in a system of injustice, but at least they knew what to expect.
What they were conveniently forgetting is that during their time in captivity, their life was not their own. Whether they lived or died, how many bricks they had to make, what materials they had to do so with, whether they had food in their pots or not, was all based upon the whims of Pharaoh and their overseers.
Their life was not their own.

There are two pieces of this lesson that we need to wrestle with.

First… when your entire life was controlled by another person, how are you supposed to act when you are suddenly free?
Like livestock or equipment has to be fed and fueled and maintained, the Egyptians knew that if they didn’t provide for the people, they would lose their labor.
When the people cry out – where is our water? where is our food? part of the reality is that these basic necessities had been provided by their masters in the past.
Many didn’t know what it meant to provide for themselves and those who did found themselves in a barren wilderness with no access to streams or game.

But we shouldn’t rush too quickly into the flipside of that coin.
You see, we live on that other side.
As citizens of this great nation where we have freedom, we imagine that every single person has the opportunity and the responsibility to provide for themselves.
We believe in the American Dream, that if everyone just pulls themselves up by their bootstraps that they will have a house with a white picket fence and 2.5 children who will grow up and go to college.
We do have a sense that life is sustained by more than just basic necessities like bread and water… but sometimes we overreach and in our striving for unessential things, we limit the access of others to basic needs.

What we forget, whether we are suffering under the oppression of others or we believe we are free to provide for ourselves is that either way, in both situations, our life has never been our own.

When Jesus is tempted to turn bread into stones he says no.
And that’s because Jesus knows, as Melissa Bane Sevier writes, “where bread comes from. It’s a gift from God through the acts of nature, farmers, and bakers. Any other process – especially one that only pretends to be miraculous – shortcuts the involved process that is part of what makes it a gift…”

“Bread takes time. Place seed in the ground. Wait for sun and rain. Weed and harvest. Thresh and preserve. Grind. Add ingredients. Knead. Bake. Serve. Enjoy.” (https://melissabanesevier.wordpress.com/2017/02/27/of-stones-and-bread/)
Every drop of rain and ray of sunshine. Every person tasked with tending the earth and forming the loaves. Every piece, every part… it’s all a gift and it is all from God.

It is easy to follow when, like the Israelites, we see God’s power manifest in might acts like parting the sea or leading them with cloud and fire.
But that daily sustaining trust and reliance upon God’s grace?
That’s much harder.

This decision point, this temptation, it is all about daily bread and the Kingdom of God.
It is about a daily commitment to turn to God first.
It is about our daily trust in the one who sustains life.
This is a story about life and death.
This is a story about salvation.

Our culture tells us that if we work hard enough and we are good boys and girls and if we are generous with our time and our money that we will be rewarded. If we keep our noses clean, there is a place waiting for us somewhere in heaven. A place we earned by our actions.
We think it’s all about us, and so why wouldn’t Jesus use his power and turn some stones into bread.
But God’s ways are NOT our ways.
And God says, NO.
My Kingdom has nothing to do with what you have done and everything to do with what I have done.
Life depends on God.
Salvation depends God.
Freedom depends on God.
Daily bread depends on God.
Every breath that you take depends upon the God who created you.

When the Israelites found themselves in the middle of nowhere, utterly dependent upon God, it terrified them.
But that is precisely when God steps in and reminds them… I am enough. I will provide.
And just like the rain gently fell this morning, bread rained down from heaven.

Like those Israelites, we, too, struggle to remember this simple truth.

But when we are pulled away from that temptation to focus on our jobs and the competition and the battle to get what is ours, we, too, discover everything depends on God.
It is all grace.
From the rising of the sun to the rain that falls… it is all grace.
From the bread on the table to the money in our pockets… it is all grace.
We didn’t create it and it wasn’t ours to begin with.
We are nothing but cells stuck together and formed into amazing bodies – and even that is a gracious and generous act of God.

No… it is all grace. It is all a gift.

And God reaches out to us and says, come my children.
Come and walk with me.
Come and work with me.
Come and be a part of what I am doing.
Turn to me every single day, and I will provide everything you need for life.

The Wilderness: Learning to Lean on the Lord

Posted on March 17, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Exodus 15:22-27, Luke 3:21-22, 4:1-2a, 4:14-15

This year, we are taking a journey through the wilderness during the season of Lent.

Most years, we spend one Sunday, if that, focused on the time that Jesus spent in the wilderness at the beginning of his ministry.
However, the wilderness is not something to be glossed over.

So over these six weeks of Lent, we will take our time with these stories.
We will slow ourselves down and really chew on them.

Today, we focus on what the wilderness itself represents for Jesus and the Israelites.
It is the In-Between place, a liminal space, a transition between what was and what would be.

While it looks like we have a collection of random verses in our gospel text today, what we have are bookends of a transition into ministry.

Jesus was born and grew up in the home of Mary and Joseph. He was obedient to them and matured in wisdom and years, Luke tells us. But we don’t really know much else about his life as a child or a young person. Not until he suddenly shows up on the banks of the Jordan River to be baptized by John.

There, the heavens split open and the Holy Spirit descends and Jesus is named the Son of God.

But what next?
How do you go from a nobody to a viral sensation who teaches and preaches across the region as our third set of verses tell us?
How do you transition from a quiet life in Galilee to a world-transforming movement of love and grace and justice that challenges the religious and secular leadership of the world?

You pause for a minute.
You take a breath.
You figure out who you are and whose you are.

That same Spirit that descended upon him, led Jesus into the wilderness. Led him into a time of temptation and wrestling. A time to clarify his values, his power, his mission, his message.
Over the next several weeks, we will look individually at each and every one of those temptations and what they tell us about who Jesus is and how we are supposed to live.

For today, we simply want to remember that he took this time, this beat, this moment between those two realities to get ready for the future.

And when he was ready, the Spirit sent him back into the world.

When he was ready.

Scripture tells us that Jesus was in that wilderness for forty days, but the reality is, Jesus was in the wilderness for as long as it took him to get ready.

That number, forty, shows up 159 times in scripture and it is not a coincidence.

Instead, the number itself is a representation, a symbol, a clue as to the significance of the moment. It speaks to the reality that this is a time of testing that is meant to form the person or the people into a more faithful future.

The earth was flooded in the days of Noah for forty days, Jonah warned Nineveh for 40 days of its impending destruction, and Ezekiel laid on his side for 40 days to symbolize Judah’s sins – all represent a transition from our sinful past to the possibility of a new future.

Moses and Elijah, like Jesus, fasted for forty days in the wilderness – and these times were important transitions as they waited upon the Lord to give them instructions for leadership.

And then there were the Israelites.
They had been slaves in the land of Egypt.
All they knew was oppression and toil.
They didn’t know what it meant to live without Pharaoh’s rule, much less what it meant to live as the people of God in a new land.

The wilderness was not just the path they had to travel to the land of milk and honey.
It was also a time of transformation and testing where they would be strengthened and learn how to lean upon the Lord.

Exodus tells us that as soon as the Israelites were truly liberated on the other side of the Reed Sea, they celebrated their victory and began to move forward into this new land.

Together, they traveled for three days. Three days is all it took for the Israelites to journey through the wilderness without water before they started to grumble and complain and fall apart.

And God does a miracle in that place. The Lord has Moses throw a stick into the bitter, undrinkable water they had discovered, and suddenly it is sweet and refreshing.

They are learning to lean on the Lord.
They are learning to trust in God’s power.
But they are really just beginning to learn.

I look at this map and you know what really strikes me…. Where Marah, this place of bitter water is situated.

It only took them THREE days to travel this whole distance.

And it took them forty years to make the rest of their journey.

Because days were not enough time.

Years were not enough time.

It was going to take a generation of testing and transition and wilderness wandering before the people of Israel could leave behind what was and truly be ready for what was coming next.

Forty days…. Forty years… it took however long it needed to take for the people to be ready.

Right now, the wilderness is calling out to us.

Matthew, Luke and Mark all tell us that Jesus is led by the Spirit out into this liminal space, but Mark uses even stronger language. The Spirit forced him to go. He was pushed out there.

Just because you are led doesn’t mean you have to go. You chose to obey.

But to be forced… it means I don’t want to do something, and I don’t have a choice.

Did Jesus want to be in the wilderness?

Did he want to spend forty days wrestling with Satan?

I get the sense that any rational person wouldn’t choose this situation.
Jesus didn’t want to be there, but he had to do it.
He had to spend this time apart.
He had to get ready for what was to come.
Jesus had to make sure his head and heart and body were aligned before his ministry started.
It was going to be a rough journey and he was going to be working with some knuckleheads of disciples… not to mention the cross that would loom before him.

This time apart was necessary, because after the wilderness, there was a job to do.

Friends, we also have a job to do.
We are called to be disciples of Jesus Christ.
We are called to be God’s church, the Body of Christ, and to live according to his example.
We are called to make other disciples and to transform the world.

Are we ready? Have we prepared ourselves?
Or are we like those Israelites who are only a few days into a journey and already we are making excuses and want to go back to the way things were and we need to be forced to stop and take it slowly and re-orient ourselves to God.

I think some of us have to be forced into the wilderness of Lent… and that includes myself.
I’m too busy to spend any extra time in prayer and fasting and study… I’ve got a job to do, right? That’s what we tell ourselves.
But when we force ourselves to stop…
When we hand a piece of our lives over to God for a while…
Well, then suddenly we find that all those priorities re-align.
We remember it’s not about me or my desires or my needs… but about God.
And about getting ourselves ready for what God needs us to do in the world.

To be God’s people.
To repent and live differently.
To lead in a new way.
To offer ourselves for others.

This time of testing and preparation and wilderness is not about suffering for the sake of suffering. It is not in itself pleasing to God for us to be tempted and tried.

Remember, after all, that Jesus was already beloved, dearly loved, just the way he was before being sent into the wilderness.

No… the wilderness, these forty days, are only pleasing to God because they get us ready to come back OUT of the wilderness.

I am reminded of that old gospel song, “Come Out the Wilderness.”

It reminds me that we are going to come out of this time of wilderness.

Sometimes this time will make us want to weep… or pray… or shout.

But most importantly, when we come out the wilderness, when we finish this journey, when we get to the other side of this “in-between” we will do so leaning on the Lord.

So during this season…
During these forty days…
During this time in the wilderness….
What do you need to do to get yourself ready…
What do you need to do to lean on the Lord?

The Wilderness: Can These Bones Live?

Posted on March 11, 2019Leave a comment

Yesterday was my Sabbath day.
I wore pajamas all day long.
I curled up in a chair and played video games.
I watched five episodes of Grey’s Anatomy on the DVR.
I was a sloth.
I was exhausted.
I needed to stop moving,
stop thinking,
to simply be.

But there is a fear
that when we stop moving and thinking and doing
maybe we will never want to start again.
Maybe once we stop
we cannot start again.

I got up from my chair late in the day
And my bones ached.
My muscles hurt.
Every joint felt like it was crying out.

Don’t get old, Katie,
my dad always tells me.
Don’t get old, because your body stops working.
It starts talking back.
It cries out and lets you know what aches.
It tells you that you are fragile.
You are merely bones and flesh.
You are human.
You are not invincible.
You are not wonder woman.
You cannot do it all.

Actually, maybe I need that reminder.

Maybe we need that reminder.

Maybe we need this season called Lent.
Maybe we need to call a time out.
Maybe we need to remember that life is fragile.
Life is precious.
Life is fleeting.

We come from nothing but dust and ashes.
We will return to dust and ashes.

I say those words a few dozen times a year
As I stand with families over an open grave.
As we gently return the bodies of their loved ones to the earth.

Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust.

And I find myself telling them…
Telling myself…
That in between those two bookends
We have an opportunity.
A beautiful opportunity.
To clothe ourselves with new life as well.
A life that extends beyond the valley of the shadow of death.
A life that will overcome even the grave.

Can these bones live?
That is the question on the tip of our tongue
As we watch our loved ones lowered into the earth.
Can these bones live?

The prophet Ezekiel was familiar with that question.
Can these bones live?
Can life return?
Is this really the end of it all?

He witnessed his city under siege.
He saw its walls crumble.
He saw the temple destroyed.
And then, he had to leave everything behind.
Forced against his will
To journey through the wilderness
To a strange land
A foreign land
A hostile land.

From the dust of the earth that city and temple was built.
And to dust it returned.

Ezekiel also knew…
Quite keenly he was aware
That death and dust and destruction
Were the tools of God.

He was called to name the sins of Judah
The transgressions of Jerusalem
With his very body
His bones and his flesh
He bore witness to the impending destruction.

He starved himself long before the siege.
He shaves his head long before he was taken prisoner.
He begins to experience in his very bones
The fear and trembling
That would soon be upon the people.

And part of him has to wonder…
Can these bones live?

Can this dead and lifeless people repent?
Will they see the light?
Are they able to change their ways?
Will it be too late?

Babylon arrives.
The city is destroyed.
The people are sent away.

Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust.

When I find myself on my knees
Laid low in humility
Brought to nothing
I remember I am dust and ashes
I am the stuff of the earth

And in that moment
Sometimes there is a quiet acceptance.
I am dust and ashes.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
I have reaped what I have sown.

But somewhere in me there something else…
a spark.
something that dares
that yearns
Can these bones live?
Can we begin again?

Even if it way too late…
Is it ever too late?

After all,
We began as dust.

And as dust,
You, God,
You breathed life into us.

That spark I feel.
That yearning.
That calling.
That desire to live
To truly live and love and move and serve.
To do it right.
To do it well.
That is Your presence in me.

Your breath in us.
Stirring… calling… pushing.

The city was in shambles.
The people were scattered.
And there was this divine spark
Speaking in Ezekiel’s soul.
Stirring… calling… pushing…

And that spirit led him out of himself
Out of captivity
Out of complacency

Can these bones live?

It was a question Ezekiel wasn’t sure if he dared to utter.
It was a question that he longed to speak aloud but couldn’t.
It was a question of hope.
And hope was now a stranger to him.

So God asked the question instead.

Can these bones live?

Can your bones live?
Do you believe that I can breathe life into you again?
Are you willing to risk that it is not too late?

Ezekiel isn’t sure.
Lord God, only you know…
Only God can do it…
If it could be done.

And God calls him to stand.
God calls him to speak.
God calls him.
And he answers.

Out of dust and ashes.
Out of hopelessness.
Out of grief.
Out.

Ezekiel speaks.
And the bones start to shake.
The earth starts to quake.
Everything is at once falling apart and coming together.
A great transformation.
Everything changing.
Everything becoming.
Bones.
Flesh.
Sinew.
Skin.

And then there was breath.
God’s breath.
The Holy Spirit rushing like the wind.
Filling those bodies.
Standing them up.
Calling them back to life.

We are ashes.
We are dust.
We are bones.
We are sinful people, brought low by our deeds.

And yet…
There is that spark…
that breath…
that glimmer of God…

Telling us it is not too late.
It is not too late to stand.
It is not too late to live.
It is not too late to love.
It is not too late to repent.
It is not to late to act.

On my own, I can’t do it.
I will burn out.
I will falter and make mistakes.
On my own I’m not strong enough.
I am dust and ashes.

But… and… I am more than dust and ashes.
Because I am also the Lord’s.
And this body.
This flesh.
These bones.
Are filled with the Spirit.
And this body.
This flesh.
These bones.
Are part of the body of Christ.

When I stop, for just a moment.
When I let my bones and flesh rest.
It is then that I remember
God is with me.
God is in me.
God is in us.

Can these bones live? God asks.
Can this scattered and broken people live?
Can this church live?

Only you know, Lord.

So, come, Holy Spirit.
Come, Breath of God.
Come and knit us back together.
Come and fill us with your life.
Help us to stand.
Raise us up.
Send us out.

General Conference Reflections #gc2019

Posted on March 3, 20191 Comment

I knew that whatever decisions we made or didn’t make during this past week in our General Conference that this Transfiguration text would be appropriate to frame our conversation.
You see, in the three synoptic gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke – the three that see together – the Transfiguration represents a turning point.
Where Jesus had been about ministry and is seen among the people teaching, healing, working miracles, and sending out disciples to share the good news… from this chapter on, in all three texts, his face is now set to Jerusalem.

This General Conference, no matter what we would decide or not decide, was always going to be a turning point. Like no other conference I have been to, the emotional and spiritual investment of people going into this gathering was intense.
It was either going to be a mountain top experience, or we were going to find ourselves in the valley of despair, and it all depended on what “side” you were on and what would end up having the votes to pass.

So, I want to frame my reflections this morning by thinking about that moment of Transfiguration on the mountaintop.

First of all – not everyone was invited or privileged to be able to be there.
Just as Jesus only took three disciples up on that mountain with him, the General Conference itself is a relatively small body for a global church.
864 delegates from all across the world were seated together on a concrete floor in a football arena. The reason we were gathered was to vote on plans related to how our church will include or exclude LGBTQ+ persons, but there were only a handful of people who identify as queer who were elected to serve on delegations and have a voice.
While some of you chose to livestream the deliberations, and others traveled down from Iowa to observe, as a delegate on the floor, we felt far removed from everyone else.
In addition, not everyone who wanted to speak got to speak. We all had devices that looked like blackberries and we had to insert a special card to be able to vote. It was also how we registered to speak. With such a large group of people, who actually gets chosen out of all of the people who want to say something is very limited.
Separating us from the observers was a 15’ ledge, and a series of three gates or doors that you had to have a special badge to pass through.
In some ways, it allowed for observers and protestors to have a voice and to shout and sing without disrupting our proceedings. But we also felt very isolated from everyone else.
A few times, there were responses that erupted on the floor itself among the delegates and it was powerful to be able to join in and to feel a sense of solidarity with the people who were standing or singing in the stands or far away at home.

Second – there were some sightings of glory and hope in the midst of that gathering.
General Conference is like a global family reunion. Everywhere I turned, from the hotel lobby to the pizza place to the floor itself, I ran into people I knew. There was Stanislaus and Pastor Celestin who serve with me on Global Ministries. I reconnected with people from my time with Imagine No Malaria and the year I served on the Episcopacy Committee for the Jurisdiction. My Committee on Reference team decided to take a field trip together and visit the arch.
All around were reminders that we share in work and a mission and a calling that is bigger than our disagreement about how to read six verses of scripture. We share a common faith in Jesus Christ, we have been baptized with one baptism. We have broken bread together in both communion and around shared meals. We have prayed for each other and laughed and have literally helped to save lives of millions of people in the name of Jesus Christ.

But this experience, like the Transfiguration, is a turning point.
When Jesus appeared in all of his glory along with Moses and Elijah, what they talked about, Luke tells us, is the preparations for what is coming next. They were preparing for his departure, for his exit, for his death.
Everything from here on out is going to be different.
And what I find so fascinating in the gospel accounts is that Peter wants to capture this moment. He wants to literally enshrine it. He wants to stay right there in that place forever.
But Peter doesn’t understand that we can’t stay right here. This is not the fullness of Jesus’ ministry. This is not the culmination. This is not the finale. This is really only the beginning of everything that is yet to come.
And the scripture tells us that this cloud and fog overwhelmed them and they were speechless and didn’t really know what to say or not to say to anyone about what they had seen.

Friends. What was clear going into this conference is that when we got to the other side and we voted, the United Methodist Church would never be the same. The decisions that we would make would have ripples across our connection.
Some were preparing for exit and departure. In fact, of the top six plans and petitions that got the highest priorities of votes, four of them were related to how we leave or how we protect the pensions of those who leave.
Some should have been preparing for exit and departure.
I supported the One Church Plan and a version of it called the Simple Plan, because I believe we are a big family. We are the body of Christ and none of us can say to another – I have no need of you. I have witnessed the faithful ministry of my queer siblings and I cannot deny the way the Holy Spirit has called them to serve our church. We are better because they are a part of us.
I also know that faithful people disagree about how to interpret those six verses of scripture that some believe condemn homosexuality.
And, I believe that the witness of scripture itself that we have delved into over these last two months as a church is that there is room for disagreement in our interpretations and room for contextual ministry.
There is a core of belief and doctrine that we hold in common and it is contained in our articles of religion for the United Methodist Church, and within those core doctrines, there is room left for discretion and contextuality on matters of marriage and religious ceremonies.
What we have essentially done is we have taken our understandings that relate to the contextual practice of ministry and we have enshrined them as doctrine and have declared that there is only one way of being a faithful United Methodist.
I believe that we should provide space for those who faithfully disagree on what John Wesley would call “unessentials” to be able to use their discretion and follow their conscience. And I think it goes against every fiber of what it means to be United Methodist to single out this place of disagreement on the marriage and ordination of LGBTQ persons and to say that if you cannot agree and abide by the rules we have created on this topic that you should exit the denomination.

The vote of our General Conference disagrees with me.

This handout contains a summary of the decisions that we made.

– Implementation delated for conferences outside the U.S.
– Pensions protected for exiting clergy and churches
– Partially constitutional Traditional Plan – to be determined if the Judicial Council will allow parts to take effect or because parts are unconstitutional the whole thing will be unconstitutional.
o At its core, much of this plan was determined to be unconstitutional for a very simple and very Wesleyan reason. We do believe in accountability – but we believe that it comes through being held accountable in love by your peers, the people who know you and the people who walk with you. Much of what this plan would have done was to create separate spheres of accountability. As it is, what it did was add mandatory minimum penalties and changed the process for how we hold one another accountable on that peer level.
– Exit Plan for churches, that was unconstitutional because it didn’t also require the Annual Conference to vote.

There is a cloud hanging over us. There is a fog that surrounds us. And I’m not sure what the church will look like when it emerges from this fog.
The simple reality that we face today is that the world was watching.
The headlines in some places have been brutal to our denomination and I feel like they will impact our witness for years to come.
Many of our families and members that are LGBTQI feel like they have just been rejected by the church.
But there are also centrists and progressives across the denomination that feel the same way. That feel like because we support ministry with those persons that we have also been asked to leave the church.

And I want to be absolutely clear. I, personally, have been and always will, love and care for and support our LGBT family. And to be completely honest, I don’t know what that means for me. The plans that we have passed invite to me to leave the denomination.
But I also see countless folks across the connection who are not going to simply turn in their credentials.
The reality is that there was no back-up or exit plan for those who were centrists or progressives. We had nothing in place for when we came out of the fog of General Conference. There is no where else to go.

What I anticipate is that these next two years are going to be kind of messy.
The denomination is fractured, and conversations are already starting from both sides of the aisle, if you will, about what comes next.
I anticipate that while we did everything in our power to not divide the denomination this past week, in essence we exposed the rift and our next general conference in 2020 will strategically and carefully formalize that divide.

What does that mean for you?
It means, as a church, that you have some time to pray and talk and wrestle with one another about what you might choose to do in the future.
In fact, I know that some are experiencing a lot of pain and grief and there are some of you who have already expressed that you want to just throw in the towel.
But acting out of grief is never a good idea.
So instead, I want to invite you to journey through Lent with me. I want to invite you to breathe and pause and rest in the presence of God and this church. I want us all to hold one another and to focus our attention on the one who has called us, who loves us, and who is with us – whether on the mountain top or in the valley. And the one, who from either of those places, calls us to follow.
So friends, care for one another in love.
Reach out to people that you disagree with and share a cup of coffee.
Find every opportunity you can to witness to love.
And breathe.
We are still in the midst of the fog and the clouds and for a moment we need to take the time to listen. Listen to God, listen to Jesus, listen to one another.

May it be so.
Amen.

Surrounded #gc2019

Posted on February 22, 20191 Comment

I’ve been here in St. Louis for two days now because of some committee responsibilities and it is hard to imagine that we are here and ready to get started. We have been talking about this special called conference for a long time. And a big part of me really just wants to be on the other side. To know what the answer will be. To know what everyone needs to do next.

But between now and then, there is an awful lot to do.

There will be disagreements.
There will be harmful words.
There will be tears and laughter.
There will be frustration.
There will be moments we get mired down in the minutiae of Robert’s Rules instead of the movement of the Holy Spirit.

But I also know and am surrounded with glimpses of holiness and resurrection and hope.

I’ve shared meals and broken bread with colleagues from across the world as we talk about what we see and experience in our local churches and the hopes we have there. I hear all around me the excitement of disciple-making and the way people have been pushed into having deeper conversations and engagement with scripture because of this work. We all know that the church will be forever changed by whatever happens… and we know that God is doing and will continue to do amazing things in our communities and that work does not stop because the institution makes a decision. We are surrounded by fields of ministry, just waiting to be harvested.

I’ve stopped and talked with a few homeless guys on the streets. It’s not as cold as it is back in Iowa, but the air is still frigid. As I think about our local church work with Joppa, I’ve been ever more aware of these neighbors among us who so often are disregarded and avoided. So I’m pushing myself to stop and listen and look these folks in the eyes. It was good to be able to share my leftover pizza with Ben and to talk about the day with Clint. We are surrounded by people who long to be seen and to know that God loves them… whether they are homeless, or speak another language, or because of their gender identity or sexual orientation.

I’ve spent more time than I should on my phone… but facebook and twitter and email has been filled with an outpouring of love and support and encouragement. I’ve read posts that really are more like love letters to their denomination – urging us to be the best we can be and reminding us of who we are. I’ve read posts from colleagues from other denominations who just want to let us know that they are in prayer for us. Even some of my fellow gym members have reached out with encouragement and prayers, even though we haven’t ever talked about more than deadlifts and insane cardio. I’ve had people reach out to ask how they can offer support from afar and even had a care package show up in my hotel room from our fledgling, ecumenical “millennial minister” group in Des Moines. We are surrounded by people who are praying with us and who will walk with us long after this conference is over.

And I’m amazed at how quickly relationships form and friendships that sustain time and distance are born. I went up in the St. Louis Arch this morning with members of my Committee on Reference – this quiet little committee that had such important work to do this year. We bonded in a unique way over those days and it was wonderful to have some fun together. But I also have had time to visit and greet and hug people that I served with at General Conference in 2016, or the North Central Jurisdictional Committee on the Episcopacy, or Global Ministries, and as we looked across the room we saw those familiar faces and had to reach out. I even chatted for a few minutes with a colleague from Iowa with whom I disagree about desired outcomes from this weekend and our desire to remain friends no matter what happens… but what it has reminded me is that we are surrounded by love and compassion and grace, even if/when we aren’t sure we agree about who and what the church should be about.

Bible 101: Art, Science, History of Interpretation

Posted on February 10, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Luke 11: 27-28

Over these last few weeks in Bible 101, we have explored how our scriptures were put together, translated, and some of the creative tension that was baked into the text itself.
Today, our focus is on interpretation. Once we understand what a scripture meant in the time and place it was written, how do we then live and apply it today.
After all, Jesus said that blessed are those who hear God’s word and obey it, who put it into practice, who allow it to shape how they think and live.

There is part of me that wants to offer you six simple rules for interpretation.
To give you a set of guidelines to follow.
To say this is the United Methodist way of approaching scripture.
But the reality is, interpretation is messier than a list of how-to instructions.
It is as much an art as it is a science.
It is as much about the mystery of the Holy Spirit as it is about the rigid teachings of our ancestors.
And because of that, faithful United Methodists today disagree about how to read and apply scripture.

That was the struggle lifted up by our friend, Al Lockin, near the beginning of our Bible 101 series. What are we to make of our differences? How can we read the same text and come to such different conclusions?
When we hear the word, but our interpretation of scripture leads us to obey, to practice, to live out the teaching of Jesus in different ways, what do we do about it?
This particular question is so important for this moment in the life of our church, because in just two weeks, our denomination will hold a four-day conference in St. Louis. The reason we need to have this big meeting is because we don’t agree on how to interpret and live out the scriptures as they relate to LGBTQ+ persons. As I shared with you last summer during our series on A Way Forward, faithful Christians read the same six scriptures and come to different conclusions about what they mean for us today.
And while in some ways what we are debating in St. Louis is that interpretation, the deeper question, the bigger question is actually this: are we willing to continue to be a part of a church, of a community, of a denomination with people who disagree with us?

So today, I want to step back from the rules and guidelines of interpretation. I want to offer a reminder that confronting differences in how we live and apply scriptures is not something new.
In fact, scripture itself lifts up the reality that faithful people interpret things differently.
As we have shared these past few weeks, even the Torah itself, those first five books of scripture, hold within them contradictions and tensions and different interpretations of events.
Were there two of every kind of animal, or for some animals on Noah’s ark were there actually seven pairs? Well… it depends on if you are reading the interpretation of the priests or of the other oral traditions.
Our biblical canon even contains different historical accounts – in the books of Kings and Chronicles, we find different takes on the same events, told from different perspectives. It would be like holding in your hands two different histories on George Washington – one told from a military expert writing in the 1800s and the other from a modern day expert in leadership… you are going to get different stories… but its all about the same set of events.

When we get to the time of Jesus, the recognized and agreed upon texts of the Jewish faith were fairly established… but there were different schools of thoughts and ways of understanding what those texts meant and how we were called to live them out.
Earlier this week, I posted in our facebook group a video from Rob Bell that talks about what it meant to be a disciple in the time of Jesus.
While all children would have learned and would have memorized the torah… the first five books of scripture… after the age of ten, most children would finish their education and would go and learn their family trade.
But what Bell describes as “the best of the best of the best” would embark on a new phase of education.
They would go and apply to become a disciple of a particular rabbi whose teaching that student wanted to embody. One rabbi might look at a verse and say that this is what it means…. But a different rabbi from a different town might look at it slightly differently. And they would commit their life to learning from that rabbi.

One of the things that tends to happen, however, when you have different ways of interpreting God’s message is those differences can become institutionalized.
In the gospels, we see a number of schools of thought present… kind of like different denominations today.
The Pharisees held together the written law of the scriptures with an oral tradition of interpretation called the Talmud. They believed in an after life and that a messiah was coming to usher in a new age. Much of their practice was shaped not around the temple, but around gatherings in synagogues.
The Sadducees rejected that oral teaching and focused only on what was written in the law. And since there is no mention of an afterlife in the Torah, they didn’t believe in one. They also focused their practice around the Temple. A unique feature for a group that held close to a literal interpretation of their texts is that they were open to much of Greek thought and incorporated it into their teaching.
You’ll also find descriptions of the Essenes in this time. This was a sort of monastic movement with strict dietary laws and a commitment to celibacy. Their relationship to the written and oral law was often more spiritualized and we have discovered writings like the Dead Sea Scrolls from communities like the Essenes that show us very different ways of approaching the life of faith.

Much of our New Testament, aside from the gospels, was written by Paul – a Pharisee, taught by the Rabbi Gamaliel, who was a student of Hillel. One of the more fascinating things that I found as I was doing research for this message is that Hillel was known for his seven rules of interpretation… and many have worked to draw parallels between those seven rules and the writings of Paul and how Paul himself worked to interpret Jewish scriptures into early Christian teaching.

As the church began to be established, one of the things that the early Christian leaders did was to try to form a standard, a core set of beliefs that we all hold in common together. We call these creeds. For example, the apostle’s creed was not written by the apostles, but summarizes the core of that teaching. Let’s turn to page 881 and read aloud the traditional version together.

I believe in God, the Father Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth;
And in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord;
who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,
born of the Virgin Mary,
suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, dead, and buried;*
the third day he rose from the dead;
he ascended into heaven,
and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty;
from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit,
the holy catholic** church,
the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,
and the life everlasting. Amen.

But as time has moved on from this time of creedal confessions, we have watched as time after time, our different ways of understanding God and the scriptures have created new schools of thought, and fractures and splinters and new denominations and movements… including the United Methodist Church.

In our core scripture for today, Jesus has been teaching the disciples and was casting out demons. Even in the midst of that miracle – there were different interpretations happening in the crowd around what was happening.
One woman finally shouts out – Blessed is the woman who gave birth to you!
I find this a really thing to shout out in this moment, but perhaps one of the reasons she felt the need to raise her voice is that in the midst of all of the conflict and chaos of interpretation, she wanted to affirm where Jesus was coming from.
She wanted to celebrate his particular brand… his line of thinking… the people who formed and taught and shaped the way he was approaching scripture.

What I find really fascinating here is that Jesus challenges her words… It’s those who hear God’s word and live it, obey it, put it into practice that are blessed.

Our work is not to focus on the people who formed us, or the rabbis we follow or the perspectives we belong to. Our job is not to get so stuck in one school of thought or to be focused on the past.
Our job is to take God’s word and live it out.
Our responsibility is to take ownership ourselves for how we put into practice the faith that has been handed down to us.
In fact, one of the core teachings of the United Methodist Church is that we believe it is the theological task of each and every single person not to regurgitate the work of others, but to engage with the scriptures and to wrestle with what they mean today.

In the past, we have talked about some of general framework in the United Methodist tradition for approaching scripture and applying it to faith today.
You’ve heard about the quadrilateral – scripture, tradition, reason, and experience.
But guess what… even faithful United Methodists don’t agree on THAT as a general framework… or how to apply it… or what to do when faced with disagreement between tradition and something like experience.

When we go back farther to the writings of John Wesley, I find some very helpful advice as we encounter our differences today.
One… he talked about being a man of one book… but he always had a number of other books in his hands…. Other translations of scripture… writings and teachings from history and tradition… wisdom from the natural sciences of his day… even a manual for how to heal people who were sick.
But over and over, he also reminded us that as we each engage in our work of interpretation, that personal responsibility, we are not called to do it alone. He formed people into groups of accountability. He reminded people of their call to be the church. And in various ways he reminded us that we are called to embrace humility and love and compassion when we are confronted with conflict in our interpretations.
As he wrote in his sermon on the Catholic Spirit “If your heart is as my heart, take my hand.”
In essentials unity, in non-essentials, liberty, in all things love.

Bible 101: Pulling Meat Out of a Text

Posted on February 3, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Hebrews 5:11-6:3, Revelation 3:15-16

The author of Hebrews doesn’t seem very nice.
The people they are writing to are called lazy.
They are compared with babies, needing milk instead of solid food.
And… the author is impatient because they aren’t sure the people have been listening at all.

Well, maybe I might snap just a little bit too if I have been trying to teach a community about the importance of faith and I realize I had to start all the way back at the beginning all over again.

In contrast, I have actually been really excited to get back to some of the basics about the bible with all of you. And I think that is because we never really do this kind of work together.
In fact, I was talking with some colleagues and aside from the small groups of people who attend actual bible studies, most of their congregations, like ours, have not really been taught biblical literacy.
We simply don’t challenge each other to read scripture in depth.
We haven’t wrestled with the contradictions in texts and what they mean.
And as pastors, we have not equipped you with the tools that you need to dive into the text.
That is our fault.
Not yours.
And over this last month, I have seen just how hungry you are to know more, to read more, and to understand more. So… I’m excited you are on this journey with me and I can’t wait to see where it continues to take us.

In these last few weeks, we have already covered a few things.
First, we acknowledged that the Bible is a complicated text, full of mystery. In its 66 books, we find history, testimony, letters, poetry, prophecy, law… and we should approach each part of the text recognizing that it is trying to do something different.
Then, we heard from one of our lay folks here at Immanuel, about the overarching message of the scriptures: to love God and to love our neighbor… and how that helps us when we encounter people with whom we disagree or on our own journey of faith.
In the past two weeks, I’ve shared with you about how the people who compiled and formed our canon of scripture intentionally left us a diversity of perspectives within the text. Four gospels all tell about Jesus, but emphasizing different things, in a different order. In this past week, we’ve read passages from 2 Kings and 2 Chronicles in our daily challenge and find the exact same story – but with different outcomes! The scriptures are not concerned with one right answer, but capturing a multitude of voices that all point to the bigger truths about God.
And last week, we talked a bit about translations – how the Bibles we read today might be different, but that inspiration of God has been carried through as each author was attempting to bring the message of God to a new people in a new place.

Today, we are going to dive a bit deeper into the meat of bible study. We’ve gone over some of the basics and so I want to give you some tools today to help you “press on towards maturity” as the author of Hebrews puts it. It’s time for some solid food!

First, I want to introduce you to the idea of exegesis.
The prefix (exe) relates to our English word exit… which we know as the way out. So when we use exegesis, we are working to pull meaning OUT of a text.
This is one of the basic building blocks of biblical interpretation. We want to figure out what the passage meant when it was written. It’s not always possible… but the more we research and learn, the more we discover.

Contrasting this is eisegesis.
Now, this is when you take meaning INTO a text. You don’t start from the text itself, but you start from what you know today and make assumptions based on modern understandings about what the text means.

Let’s dive into an example to show the difference.

These two verses are from a set of letters to seven different churches as a pat of the Revelation to John. These verses come from the letter to Laodicea:

“I know your works. You are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I’m about to spit you out of my mouth.” (3:15-16)

So first… and I’m going to need your help with this… what do we know about what it means to be hot in the context of our faith… in modern religious understandings?
(on fire for God, zealous, 100% committed, loving, justice filled)

What do you think it means to be cold spiritually?
(apathetic, dead, unloving, meh, no life)

And we understand lukewarm to be somewhere in the middle, right? So we might read into this text that the church is only partly committed to God… or who might go to church, but not be “on fire”. Right?

All of this makes sense in modern English. But what we are doing is bringing OUR understanding of the words into the text. It is eisegesis. And… we are left with the question… why would God prefer that we were either hot or cold? What would ever be good about cold? Wouldn’t lukewarm be better, or at least closer on the path to God than being cold?

If we use exegesis, if we go back to the text, back to the context, back to the location, we might learn something different.

Laodicea seems to be compared with hot and cold churches in this letter… so who might those churches be that they are unlike? If we turn to a map of the area and think about where and who the Laodiceans were, we might get some clues.

This city was actually part of a triad with Hierapolis and Colossae, in what is now modern day Turkey. In fact, when Paul writes to the Colossians, he specifically mentions these other two cities as a part of a little circuit that Tychicus, Epaphras, and others travel, supporting the people in all of those locations. The people know each other and they support and encourage one another.
But they were each unique places as well. The Colossians were supposed to pass their letter on the Laodiceans… AND they were supposed to pick up a letter Paul had written to that church and bring it back. Unfortunately, we don’t have a copy of that letter today.

Hieropolis was known for its hot springs and mineral baths. In fact, ancient Romans would travel to the city for health and healing.

Colossae on the other hand was located right on the river and it was known for its cool and refreshing water. There were also cold, freshwater springs in the city. It was a place where people escaped in warm days in order to find relief and refreshment.

But Laodicea had no natural source of water. All of the water for the city was piped in via an aqueduct and when it finally arrived, it wasn’t hot or cold, but lukewarm.

People traveled to Hieropolis for hot healing waters. They traveleld to Colossae for cold and refreshing relief.

But no one came to Laodicea for the water.
As Terance Espinoza writes, “Jesus wishes that they were useful, that they were either healing or refreshing to people.” (https://www.sagu.edu/thoughthub/exegesis-versus-eisegesis)

No one noticed them or would miss them if they were gone. They had figured out how to take care of themselves… but they weren’t in turn taking care of anyone else.

Now that is a church I recognize. Closed in. Focused on itself. If it disappeared from the face of the earth tomorrow, no one would know any different.

In this passage… being either hot or cold… healing or refreshing… being useful and making a difference is the goal.

And the Laodiceans were neither.
That is the difference when you work to pull meaning OUT of the text, instead of starting from where we are and looking backwards.
And friends, it isn’t easy work.
When you begin to chew on the meat of a text, here are some helpful questions to carry with you as you work to pull meaning out of it:
1) Who is the author?
2) When did they write the text?
3) What was life like at the time?
4) Who was their audience?
5) Why did they write to them?
6) What questions do you have?

And that might seem like a lot of questions and a lot of work, but also remember that we have at our fingertips today more resources and tools to do this kind of study than ever before.
Study bibles and commentaries can help by providing us with current scholarship and notes on the text. Our own church is full of these kind of study resources and you are always welcome to stop by and use them.
There are also million online resources with everything from Wikipedia to The Bible Project. I use BibleGateway.com to compare translations.

One source that I turn to almost every single week is called The Text This Week, or textweek.com. This particular resource is geared towards churches that use the lectionary, or the three year cycle of texts, but what I appreciate is that you can search by scripture and find a compilation of history, commentaries, and exegesis all in one place.

Above all, you don’t have to do this work alone! Those who are interested in studying scripture together will find that each can take a piece of the work. Or… you can utilize a resource together to dive deeply into a particular book of scripture or a topic.

Our goal, friends, is to not just be content to be spoon fed information… we each have the responsibility to engage with scripture ourselves.
We are called to press on to maturity.
We are called to take the foundation of knowledge we have been given and to move beyond just the basics.
I don’t promise easy answers.
But I do promise that you will be fed and nourished when you dive into the text and chew on it yourself. And I know that our faith is so much richer and more meaningful when we can pull out truth from the meat of our Bible and carry it with us into our daily lives.