Walking the fence

I grew up surrounded by Republicans.

As we baled hay in the fields and made pies in the kitchen it was Rush Limbaugh blaring on the radio between farm reports. I was surrounded with suspicion about Clinton and rumors and scandal.

I also had this idea of my mom as the rebel Democrat… secretly keeping her views to herself… it sparked my curiosity… I don’t know if I was right, but that was always my impression of her political views.  I’m baking cookies with her tomorrow and I’ll have to ask.

I wasn’t quite sure what to think… but I listened, and loved my family, and didn’t let politics get in the way.

I headed off to college and found myself entrenched with the Democrats. Actually, many of them farther left than democrats. I began to care about different issues, found my voice, and struggled with how to engage those with whom I disagreed.

But I have always been a fence walker.  Whether I myself leaned one way or the other, I felt like my role was to navigate the space in between.

In college, that was the space between my more conservative friends of faith and my more liberal friends of action.  I hung out, freely and comfortably, with both.

In seminary, it was the space between young and old… between an LGBT community and a church that wasn’t quite sure what it meant for them to belong… between lay and clergy.

In ministry, it was bring folks to the table of different sides and trying to distance my own personal beliefs so that I never closed off myself to others because of my opinion.

I have always been a good listener.  I see multiple view points.  I understand how and why people disagree… only I cannot understand why they do it so vehemently.  10 days after an election, I watch those who gloat and those who mourn. And what I really want to do is round them all up in a room and have them talk about what their hopes are… because they might see that they are not so different.

And there really is not so much difference between your view point and mine.  Pragmatically, we’d probably do the same thing in a given situation.  We just emphasize different parts and set different priorities.  That is okay. We can still be friends. We can still be family.  We can still worship together.

I’m standing right here… in the middle… not because my heart is here – but because this is where I can best meet you.  And when I think of it that way… that is where my heart had been all along.

Confessions before General Conference

In the past few weeks, between holy week services and fundraiser dinners and youth group and church meetings and the normal day to day business of pastoring, I’ve been trying to get a handle on the general conference legislation.

It is actually difficult to try to digest it all.  There are 1400+ pages in the Advance Daily Christian Advocate.  There are different proposals about the same items.  There are nuances.  There are huge, crazy, dramatic statements.

And my blood pressure has been rising. 

I have been focusing much of my effort on the materials related to restructuring and changes to the understanding of ministry. Which means that I put off the section on church and society.  In part I was afraid to look.  But I did.  Monday night, I dug deep in those two sections and realized why I was so afraid to even look. 

One of the reasons that I am United Methodist is because we have such a rich heritage of taking progressive stances in areas of war, poverty, work, and relationships.  And for the first time, as I read through legislation, I began to worry that we might take huge steps back this year in our areas of social witness.  Now, I have very little historical perspective under my belt.  This is my first General Conference, my first rodeo, so to speak, and so perhaps these are issues that have come and gone before.  Maybe there are always people making waves and trying to take us back to the way things were before.

But I do not have that history.  And my shackles started to raise.  I found myself wanting to yell at the pages and the proposals.  I began to see familiar names repeated… legislation that would roll back some stances on worker’s rights, the death penalty, our positions on war and peace, and they were coming from the same few people. 

Confession time:  I started to feel bad thoughts towards those people.  Until I realized that they were merely the secretaries of the conferences that those pieces of legislation were arising from.  And then I really felt bad. 

If we are not even at conference yet, and I’m feeling this defensive, territorial, angst filled… God help us all. 

I closed my files.  I took a deep breath.  And I prayed for forgiveness.

In this particular General Conference, I get to travel on behalf of my conference as a reserve delegate.  And this means that while I will not be voting on every issue, I will be in the midst of it all. And my prayer is that I can help remind us of the spirit of unity that brings us together as disciples of Jesus Christ.  I want to surround my delegates with prayer and support. I want to be a calm, non-anxious presence for them and for all who gather.  I want to breathe deeply and remember that this is the Body of Christ in action.  I want to see the best in every person, hear their best intentions, and prayerfully discern together.  I am going to lay aside my own anxiety, my own agendas, my own desires and truly hope that God will speak through us. 

My friend, Anna Blaedel, wrote on facebook today:  “holding the pilgrims making their way to Tampa in prayer… for courage… grounding… webs of care… for surprising in-breaking of Justice and Joy”

Amen, Anna. 

Instead of expecting the worst, I’m looking for God.  I’m looking for where God surprises us, and breaks in to the ordinary time and the ordinary practices of debate and decision to bring holy unity and powerful witness.  I’m looking for joy and courage and stories of resurrection and hope. 

I repent of my divisiveness of spirit.  I repent of my anxiety.  And I pray that Christ would help us all remember – Peace.

One…

What is the one consistent message of the scriptures in 140 characters or less?

We are jumping around a bit in my church with the lectionary, and this Sunday we are talking about hearing the word of God. In Ephesians 4:4-6 we hear that

there is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.

Wesley always talked about the unity of the scriptures, and using the general tenor of the scriptures to interpret individual passages. So what is that one consistent message we need to hear? What is the one strand that runs through it all? And how would you share it with someone else?

I invite you to respond in 140 characters or less!!!