No Christmas without Consent and Commitment

One Christmas, when my niece was about six years old, I carefully wrapped up a gently loved American Girls doll and accessories that had belonged to a dear friend of mine.
When Cami unwrapped that gift, she literally burst into tears.
“I’ve wanted one of these for my whole life!” she cried out between sobs!

Have you ever waited your entire life for something?
Have you ever been so moved by the experience that it overwhelmed you? Overpowered you? Changed everything about you?
The gospel of Luke tells us about a particular man who had been waiting his whole life for the birth of God’s savior… a man named Simeon.

While the Advent journey takes us through an emotional rollercoaster of joy, fear, humility, and anticipation, there is no other emotion to guide the days after Christmas than pure celebration. Each of the readings assigned for this Sunday call us to take a deep breath of relief, to look around at the beauty of what God has done, and to simply enjoy it.
The gospel of Luke tells us about a particular man who had been waiting his whole life for the birth of God’s savior… a man named Simeon.
Simeon was a man filled with the Holy Spirit, and long ago a promise was made to him that he would not see death until the Messiah had come.
Most people were looking for a leader to rise above the people – a powerful and spiritual figure.
But when this infant child crossed his path, Simeon knew that the promise had been fulfilled.
In this painting by Ron DiCianni, you can sense that overwhelming, outpouring of relief and gratitude and praise as he holds this tiny, precious child.
You see, Simeon understood that this child would grow to become not just a light of revelation to his Jewish brothers and sisters, but would be the light of salvation to all the world.
This man had given his whole life to God and in this moment, he understood what it was all for.
But there was something more.
The Holy Spirit helped him to understand that this path to salvation would be a heart-breaking journey for Mary and Joseph.
“This boy is assigned to be the cause of the falling and rising of many in Israel and to be a sign that generates opposition… a sword will pierce your innermost being too.”

Throughout Advent, we have heard the stories of the women who were part of the genealogy of Jesus… but there is one remaining.
The angel Gabriel appeared before a young woman named Mary.
She is proclaimed to be favored in God’s eyes, blessed among all women, for she will bear a child who will be called the Son of God.
I have always considered being found favored in God’s eyes to nothing but joy, but as this young woman sat there, wide awake, talking with a messenger from God, I wonder what was going through her mind.
Now that we have read through some of these ancestral stories over Advent, I find that God’s favor isn’t always filled with abundance.
As Helen Pearson ponders, “Maybe she imagined what Sarah, pregnant at ninety because God favored her, must have experienced. She might have recalled Abraham, favored by God yet commanded to sacrifice his only son… Perhaps she remembered Joseph, the favored one, sold into slavery by his brothers… Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba found favor with God, but they suffered betrayal deaths, scandals, and isolation… Finding favor? What might it mean?” (Mother Roots, p229)
All she can know in this moment is that saying yes to what God wants to do in her life, with her life, through her life, will not be a walk in the park.
As that famous… or maybe infamous Christmas song goes, “Mary, did you know?”
Maybe not every detail…
But she understood what it meant to follow God.
She knew that not only would her life be transformed.
As she sang out in praises to her cousin Elizabeth, in words that have remained with us all throughout the season of Advent,
“God will pull down the powerful from their thrones and lift up the lowly. God will fill the hungry will good things and send the rich away empty.”
She knew the world would be transformed, turned upside down and inside out.
And that kind of work is messy, and hard, and painful, and oh so good and needed.
And so Mary gives her consent to everything that this miracle will entail: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
We witness her willingness to accept the joyful burden that God is bestowing upon her.
We hear her song of praise to the God who has come to her, a lowly servant. “Let it be with me according to your word.” And we forget how difficult it must have been to not only accept this joyful burden with those words, but to carry that joyful burden in her life.

Two thousand some years ago, a young woman, a girl really, said “yes” to God’s invitation – and the world was forever changed.
But then, if you think about it, that was how God had been working all along.
From the very beginning, the people of God were transformed and moved along and inspired by ordinary nobodies who hesitantly said “yes” to God.
Think of the widow, Tamar… the prostitute, Rahab… the immigrant, Ruth… the victim, Bathsheba…
Each of them, in their own way, said “let it be with me according to your word.”
They remembered God’s promises and lived the rest of their lives committed to obeying and fulfilling those promises.
And God accomplished amazing things through them.

Right now, we find ourselves celebrating the good thing that God has done in our midst.
But I find myself left with a question.
What are we doing to actively wait and look out, like Simeon had, for the new thing that God is about to do?
When the call of God rings out again, how will we respond?
You see, we are not all that different from these faithful, ordinary folks in these stories.
We are imperfect people with imperfect lives and yet we are asked to say yes to God.
Not a temporary commitment, like a new years resolution that we make today and forget about tomorrow…
We have been asked to give our lives to following Jesus Christ.
Can you turn your heart to God and say, “let it be with me according to your word.”?
Are you ready, are you prepared for something new to be born within your spirit?
Within this community?
Are we ready for Christ to enter our midst, our hearts?
Does that idea terrify you?
You know what. It terrifies me a little bit.
What is so scary is that saying yes means everything will change.
In fact, I think we all hope that we have said yes in the past, but because we have just kind of kept on the same path we’ve always been on, nothing has actually happened.
If we want to experience the kind of transformation God is brining into this world, we have to give ourselves to God completely.
It’s not just about saying yes. It is about continuing to say yes every single day.
Everything changed for Tamar. Everything changed for Rahab. Everything changed for Ruth. Everything changed for Bathsheba.
Everything changed for every single one of those disciples who put down their nets and their tax bags and decided to follow Christ.
But you know what… they didn’t have to do it alone.
And when someday, we find the courage to say yes to God, we will not be left on our own either.
Because while God freely chooses to use ordinary people to accomplish his will – God also gives us everything that we need.

Starting next week, with this new year, we are going to spend a few weeks working and praying and studying together and thinking about what it might mean to say yes.
What it might mean to truly follow Christ.
What it might mean to allow God to transform our lives.
I’m excited about the journey… I hope you will be too.

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.