General Conference Reflections #gc2019

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

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.

The Institution of Marriage

**uploading some older sermons as I sort through files.  This one in particular was a joy to write and I was blessed by the opportunity to share this day with my dear friends.** 

Friends, we are gathered here today to celebrate an institution.

Now, that may seem like a boring and cold thing to say… but I assure you, nothing about today will be boring or cold =)

Institutions form societies. They mold us as individuals. They enhance our ability to be fully developed human beings. Institutions carry within them the values we hold most dear… the values that we want to pass on to the generations that follow us.

990207_36566280The institution of the family brought this man and this woman… in fact, all of us men and women… into the world. Each of you who have played the role of a parent or grandparent or a sister or brother to these two, have helped to make Ben and Kayla who they are today.

The religious institutions in their lives formed in them a deep sense of justice and love. Their wrestling with faith enabled them to ask questions about what it means to be faithful, about who their neighbor was, and about what it means to be a child of God.

Without the educational institution – well… Ben and Kayla never would have met. Some of us gathered here today witnessed the beginning of their journey together at Simpson College. They discovered their common values, they laughed and love together, and each step since that first one has brought all of us here.

Today, we witness them enter into the institution of marriage.

On the back of your programs, there is an excerpt from an important court decision in the state of Massachusetts.

Marriage is a vital social institution. The exclusive commitment of two individuals to each other nurtures love and mutual support.

Civil marriage is at once a deeply personal commitment to another human being and a highly public celebration of the ideals of mutuality, companionship, intimacy, fidelity, and family. Because it fulfils yearnings for security, safe haven, and connection that express our common humanity, civil marriage is an esteemed institution and the decision whether and whom to marry is among life’s momentous acts of self-definition.

It is undoubtedly for these concrete reasons, as well as for its intimately personal significance, that civil marriage has long been termed a “civil right.” Without the right to choose to marry one is excluded from the full range of human experience.

In beautiful and poetic words, the court reminds us that this institution of marriage is a public celebration of the ideals of mutuality, companionship, intimacy, fidelity, and family… it fulfils yearnings for security, safe haven, and connection that express our common humanity. These values – these ideals – are what bring us together today.

Any of us who know you – Ben and Kayla – know that your love has been a mighty and blazing flame for many years now. We know that your love needs no ornament or stamp of approval from any religious or governmental body in order to be real. We know of your commitment to one another, of your mutual respect, of your willingness to allow your partner to be who they are and yet love them anyways. We know that your love cannot be bought – that it is genuine and true – honest and holy. In fact, had we not gathered here today… and perhaps some of you thought we never would =) … Kayla and Ben would still be two individuals bound together by commitment and nurtured by love and mutual support.

But we do gather and we do celebrate, because a deeply personal commitment is not all that is important to them. Ben and Kayla believe that making these promises in public benefits the community. They believe that marriage brings stability to society. They believe that the honest, simple, and holy thing we call love is meant to be shared. By stopping at this place in their journey together and gathering before you, they mark the importance of the relationship that they share. They measure how far they have come and leave a reminder to all that follow of what marriage means to them. Here in Iowa, we don’t necessarily gather cairn stones to mark these moments… but we do like to put up billboards along the side of the road.

So, looking back years from now, we might remember that this billboard, from this moment, says: With God as my helper, I choose to live my life with this imperfect, flawed and terribly wonderful soul. I choose to take on the obligations and the joys of a shared existence. I believe that the ability to make this choice and to be faithful to it, is one of the highest and most esteemed values of our society.

The promises Ben and Kayla make today – and their living out of those promises – are themselves a witness of the importance of this institution and the joy they seek by entering it.

They believe that the benefits and obligations of this beautiful institution should be available to all that choose them…

Being married today in Iowa – they not only are publicly celebrating their love and the ideals of mutuality and fidelity and connection… they also celebrate the ideals of equality and justice.

So let us join them in their journey together and mark this moment with celebration…

Let us celebrate that we have the ability to bind ourselves together with the partner we choose.

Let us celebrate that many waters cannot quench the love two people have for one another.

Let us celebrate this beautiful institution of marriage and all of the good that it stands for. Amen and Amen.

 

competing goods and womens’ bodies…

Lately, womens’ bodies and health care and pregnancy and contraception and abortion and religious freedom and laws and the kitchen sink have been tossed around and talked about ad naseum.

My twitter feed blew up with critiques and praises of the Susan G. Komen Foundation.  My newsfeed from facebook was littered with comments about rights to health care and freedom of religion. Over breakfast, having coffee, in person, on the phone, the issues these questions raise are all around me.

And I guess why this is so exasperating for me, personally, is that I can’t figure out what to say and where to stand.  I see all sorts of different sides to these issues.  There are a thousand shades of grey to understand in the conversations and multiple “goods” that unfortunately do not play well together. And so when I’m asked my opinion or what I think about it, it would probably take three hours just to lay out all of the pieces of the puzzle… and that doesn’t include any time spent trying to actually give an answer.

Most often, however, the arguments are boiled down to two positions.

On the one side – let’s just call it what it is – the left side – the argument comes from a question of whether or not people have access to resources they need to care for their bodies, make informed decisions, and lead autonomous lives. It is about rights and conscience.

On the other side – the right side – the argument begins with the beliefs/traditions/morals that institutions hold about our bodies.  It is also about rights and conscience.

You could start trying to pick a side by asking yourself -well, which is more important?  An individual’s rights? or an institution’s beliefs?

But then that leads to questions about what happens when one individuals conscience leads them to harm another? What happens when an institution’s conscience leads them to harm another institution? or an individual? or a group of individuals? Who/what is more valued? Which institution gets the say? The government? A church? Are any particular persons more “persons” than others?

(we aren’t even dealing with details, yet… just the big picture of rights)

Take the issue of birth control and the mandate (or whatever it is) that all institutions will have to provide contraceptive coverage to their employees through their health care.  It doesn’t apply to churches, but it would to educational institutions, hospitals, etc. that are religiously affiliated.  Which puts the issue of institutional vs. individual right smack dab in the center of the debate for an institution like the Roman Catholic Church that does not see contraceptives as a moral good.  It prevents life, therefore they are against it. I can completely understand and respect an institution’s beliefs and values and want them to have the freedom to stand by them.  But I would also like for the many Catholics who actually use birth control pill to have the ability to have it affordably.  I would like for the teenagers covered by their parents insurance who use birth control pills to mitigate acne to get it for a good price.  I would like the women who suffer with long and painful periods to be able to make a choice and have it covered by their employeers insurance if they need to use the birth control pill or IUD or other method to help regulate their cycles.  I recently read that over 50% of the women who use the birth control pill do so for a reason besides pregnancy prevention.  That number absolutely floored me.

As I heard on NPR this afternoon – if it is an argument about religious freedom… the bishops win.  If it is an argument about accessibility of contraceptives for individuals… then the administration wins. I want both institutions and individuals to have the freedom to make informed decisions and to stand by their convictions.  But in these particular issues, we just can’t have it both ways. So which is more important?  Religious freedom? or access to health care? Pressed to make a choice, I take the fifth.

I think I struggle also with the issue of abortion because it is not clearly a black/white issue… as much as people try to frame it that way.

The official United Methodist position regarding the issue can be found in The Book of Discipline:

The beginning of life and the ending of life are the God-given boundaries of human existence. While individuals have always had some degree of control over when they would die, they now have the awesome power to determine when and even whether new individuals will be born.

Our belief in the sanctity of unborn human life makes us reluctant to approve abortion. But we are equally bound to respect the sacredness of the life and well-being of the mother, for whom devastating damage may result from an unacceptable pregnancy. In continuity with past Christian teaching, we recognize tragic conflicts of life with life that may justify abortion, and in such cases we support the legal option of abortion under proper medical procedures. We cannot affirm abortion as an acceptable means of birth control, and we unconditionally reject it as a means of gender selection.

We oppose the use of late-term abortion known as dilation and extraction (partial-birth abortion) and call for the end of this practice except when the physical life of the mother is in danger and no other medical procedure is available, or in the case of severe fetal anomalies incompatible with life. We call all Christians to a searching and prayerful inquiry into the sorts of conditions that may warrant abortion. We commit our Church to continue to provide nurturing ministries to those who terminate a pregnancy, to those in the midst of a crisis pregnancy, and to those who give birth. We particularly encourage the Church, the government, and social service agencies to support and facilitate the option of adoption. (See ¶ 161.K.)

Governmental laws and regulations do not provide all the guidance required by the informed Christian conscience. Therefore, a decision concerning abortion should be made only after thoughtful and prayerful consideration by the parties involved, with medical, pastoral, and other appropriate counsel.

From The Book of Discipline of The United Methodist Church – 2004. Copyright 2004 by The United Methodist Publishing House. Used by permission.

I appreciate the nuance that our position holds.  I believe it tries to hold up the goods of not only life, but also the good of family, responsible parenting, a woman’s body.  It also leads us into prayer about “the sorts of conditions that may warrant abortion.”

One of my most memorable experiences in seminary was attending the Cal Turner Center for Moral Ethics retreat.  Graduate students from five different fields were brought together to discuss issues that we all will face in our career fields.  I was surrounded by students from the law, business, medical and nursing school – along with my colleagues from the divinity school.  The presenter that really helped me to understand the “gray” area of the abortion question was Dr. Frank Boehm, who had written a book called, “Doctors Cry, Too.”  He talked about his experiences in the emergency room treating young women who had either tried to perform abortive measures on themselves or had recieved “back-alley” abortions.  They found themselves in the E.R. with deadly infections, rips and tears, and irreparable damage. Some died.  He struggled with his convictions about life and the pragmatic reality that safe and legal ways of terminating a pregnancy were needed or these women would continue to use whatever means necessary.  His story has caused me to truly not have an answer when asked if I am pro-life or pro-choice.  I both want to uphold the sanctity of life and want those who see no other options to have safe and legal options available to them.  I also firmly seek to provide options and resources and hope to those who find themselves in those positions.

The UMC position also tries to bring some nuance to the very term “abortion.” We make a distinction between the stages at which procedures are performed. But mentioned here in this piece is no mention of the “morning-after pill.”   Some who are pro-life today would oppose use of the morning-after pill because it would prevent the implantation of a fertilized egg.  And yet, most morning-after pills are merely strong doses of the same ingredients found in other contraceptives. In reality, many contraceptives are effective in part because of this reason.  At the same time there is national conversation about mandating the coverage of contraceptives in health care, states like Mississippi have proposed legislation that take the definition of abortion to extremes that could potentially make said contraceptives illegal. That measure was NOT passed thanks to 58% of the voters of the state rejecting the measure. We have to have these conversations because even if and when we agree that protecting life is good, we don’t agree about what life is and when it begins.  Fertilization? Implantation? when an embryo becomes a fetus? According to some places in the Old Testament, life was determined by the breath.  We have talked about life ceasing with heart beats, so does it also begin with them? What about brain waves? It is a complicated and difficult conversation with no easy answers.

In all of these questions, there are goods that we are trying to achieve.  Goods like health, life, equality, choice, accessibility, convictions, morality, community, and accountability. And unfortunately, sometimes those goods compete and we have to choose between them.  And sometimes our decisions are merely choices between evils rather than goods. I see so many different sides and truly faithful and good people coming from all different perspectives.  My number one hope is that we might have these conversations with civility, respect, and a willingness to listen to the heart and experience of another person.

I just wish that these debates weren’t always about women’s bodies.  It is frustrating that we live in a world in which so many of these complicated issues have to do with what women can and cannot do with their bodies and have so little to do with the physical bodies of adult men.  I sometimes wonder if the conversations would be different.

emergingumc2

Perhaps a few too many days have passed since the event for me to recall everything clearly.  I would have gotten to the blogging right away but a few things got in my way.  I watched with much excitation the Iowa/Ohio State football game while I was waiting for my flight.  Then I got up and did church Sunday morning.  And then I helped move a friend.  And then I was sick, sick, sick the rest of the day.  Monday I was a zombie.  And since then I have been playing catch up.
But there are some key things I want to get down before they slip away completely. 

–ONE–
The church and the congregation are not the same thing.  The congregation is part of the church, but the church… the Kingdom of God… the bride of Christ… is SO much bigger than the congregation – or the denomination.  I knew that, but the way that we talked about the specific role of the congregation last week (public worship, teach core doctrine, care for congregation, institutional player) I realized both how limited that role is and also how important.  
To be honest, as I look at my gifts for ministry – I am gifted to be a leader and a pastor within the congregation.  I love worship and I want that worship to be available to all.  I strive to be an institutional player in my community and build connections between my institutions and our schools and our city government and our state agencies.  I’m a good ambassador in that sense.  I’m a good representative.  I have the gifts to care for people in my congregation – I did it this afternoon as I sat with a family around their dying father.  I love to teach and I have the gifts and abilities to take complex ideas and help people understand them. 
I also deeply feel called to be a part of small communities of people who are trying to live the gospel with each other.  And I think in part what I realized this weekend is that I may not be called to be a leader of a group like that, but I am called to join one.  I’m called to help create space for them to happen.  I’m called to equip others to lead them. 
As an institution, our congregation can be a hub for missional activity.  I love that imagery.  and I want to make THAT happen.
–TWO–
As a part of the conference experience, we were at Lockerbie Central UMC/Earth House.  This is a church that has converted its basement into a vegan restaurant, its middle floor into office space and a coffee shop, and it’s top floor/sanctuary into a blank worship space and flexible auditorium/stage/performance space.  I am in LOVE with the whole thing.  I love the beautiful old stained glass windows and the homemade chai lattes and the organic fair trade coffee and the gorgeous hardwood floors and the fact that so many different types of people are trying to figure out their lives and their faith in that space.  I love the fact that yoga classes and cooking classes and films about social justice issues and conversations about salvation are happening in the same space.  I love that people enter that community (enter THE CHURCH) through all sorts of different venues.
I stayed with a young woman who come to the community in part because of a yoga class.  And she worships there sometimes.  She helps non-profits across the state find the resources they need personnel wise to be effective.  And she’s finding community and hope and inspiration there at the Earth House Collective AND the Lockerbie Central congregation. 
–THREE–
Our hosts coordinated homestays for many of us, and that in itself was a blessing.  I got to know December, even if just for one evening of really deep and vulnerable conversation over a cup of tea. It was amazing to experience that and to know that there was someone, a stranger, who had a similiar story to me.  It was a reminder of how small the world is and also a reminder of how powerful the gift of hospitality can be.
–FOUR–
I’m really struck by the difference between the inclusiveness of what the public congregation should be and the exclusiveness of a committed group of disciples who are trying to live the gospels.  I’m not sure if this quite came into focus for me completely until this morning as a sat around a table with pastors from other traditions.  I had said something about our open communion table and realized how sharply that contrasted with my LCMS colleagues.  Ironically, I was at the same time arguing for committed exclusive discipleship groups.  We were having a discussion about the limits of God’s kingdom, and I realized the beauty of the Methodist/Congregational structure.  We can HAVE the absolute openness of the Kingdom in the congregation, in the sacraments, in worship, in teaching… everyone is welcome.  And then we can invite those who want to take deeper steps into discipleship groups.  The problem with a lot of churches with rigorous discipline is that it creates and us vs. them mentality, you are in or you are out.  If we instead have a partnership that lets us know all who believe are in, and then invite everyone to go deeper, we get around some of that exclusivity. 
What I am trying to figure out is how to translate that back into my institutional congregation.  I believe we have the structure within our language already.  We have baptized members and professing members – and TECHNICALLY professing members should be people committed to living out their baptismal vows through specific practices.  And if someone decides they aren’t ready to commit to those practices, they can still be baptized members of our church!   Really, what that takes is for us to take our vows seriously and to seriously hold one another accountable AND to value baptized membership in a new way.  To realize there is a difference between those who follow Jesus and those who are disciples.  Ideally, everyone would be a disciple.  But not everyones ready.  Not everyone’s ready to take that risk – but they still believe.