Everything changes as we age … even resolutions!

Over the past few months, my parents have gone to the funerals of a number of their very close friends. Recently, one of their friends was hospitalized with an unknown heart condition and it worried them greatly. When I asked how they were taking all of this – they reminded me that getting old often means going to funerals and dealing with loss – alongside all of the other things in their lives.

I remember my grandmother, as she aged, saying that calling the final decades of her life the “Golden Years” was just not right. She said that phrase was absolutely insane. “Getting old is not the most enjoyable ride,” she told me. She had great times, continued to travel, and enjoyed her family. But losing one’s independence, needing others to care for your needs, dealing with loss and illness, and spending more and more time with doctors was not much fun.

I am now in my 50s and I can honestly say that it is the best time of my personal and professional life. I am far from old – physically, emotionally or intellectually. But my knees are a bit shot – too many skiing accidents growing up – and I am on a few more prescriptions than I would like to be on.  So I am not as healthy as I wish I was – but I am working on that. And I am working hard on it – have been for months. This is a life change – not just a couple of week’s living up to some faint end of year resolution.

Growing older is inevitable and I am happy to get to do it – like they say, “the alternative to living is not much fun.” Maybe it isn’t always pretty but it is living.

Growing older is also a huge blessing. As my grandmother told me, it means we get to learn from our experiences, watch those we love grow up and become their own persons, and spend significant time enjoying our lives. Yes, we’ll have to deal with the other stuff  - and there is often “other” stuff to deal with - but getting to live, laugh and love is an amazing gift.

As we enter into 2014 tomorrow, we are often asked or even intimidated into making lists of resolutions for the New Year. I used to succumb to the pressure of resolutions to remake my life – as if it sucked before. And I made promises to myself that I knew I could not live up to. I was doomed almost as soon as I made the list. But I have learned.

This year, I’m not gonna promise anything that does not feed me spiritually and emotionally. I’m not gonna make a list of things that I am not able to do and then feel badly about failing.

So here are my 14 for 2014 – in no particular order:

1. Love my family even more deeply and enjoy every moment I get with them (ok, I have a teenager so every moment seems too drastic). How about most of the time?

2. Support my friends and family in good times and bad.

3. Love myself – despite any perceived flaws. Because I am awesome. Seriously!

4. Never be afraid to say no when I need to (hmmm … setting myself up again?). Better?  “Try not to be afraid to say no when I need to.”

5. Try to let go of the judgment of others. Their view is not as important as mine.

6. Make the most of my life by laughing more and trying to live without regrets.

7.  Spend more time on my faith journey by reading and praying more often.

8. Do things to stay healthy – for me – not because I’m bullied by others’ perceptions of who I ought to be. 9. Work for justice and inclusion in all I do.

10. Don’t take too many selfies (ok, this is easy since I don’t do it now).

11. Have fun being true to my calling and myself.

12. Don’t say yes to too many writing assignments. Guard my time.

13. Try to laugh at Monty Python even though I don’t get it (I’ll likely fail at this one).

14. Love – just love.

That’s a list I can get behind. It’s a list that helps me age into this next year more happy and healthy. It’s a list that is about faithfulness and self-acceptance. It’s a list about love and family. It’s a list I can live with – regardless of my age.

So a happy and healthy New Year to all of you.

Live, laugh, and love your way into and through an amazing 2014.

All my love –

Karyn

All is Lost? Not hardly!

 These past few weeks many in The United Methodist Church experienced just the latest moments of pain and anguish at the hands of our church. The trial of Rev. Frank Schaefer for celebrating the wedding of his son, Tim, to his partner several years ago was held in Pennsylvania this month. It was a gut-wrenching trial, conviction, and penalty phase. It had to have been an unbelievably painful moment for Frank and his family – and was, as well, for many persons and groups working for full inclusion in the UMC.

Previous to this, the Council of Bishops asked for charges to be filed against retired UM Bishop Melvin Talbert for performing the wedding of two men in Georgia. The request to file charges was another blow to many who have felt blow after blow in the church. And there are more trials, most likely, on the horizon.

They have brought about yet more instances of anger and frustration for many in The United Methodist Church. And it has been another time of crying out in righteous indignation and “hearing” the absurd silence of too many in the church.

Also this past week, I sat in a movie theater watching the Robert Redford movie All is Lost. The movie is about a man fighting the elements after his yacht is damaged while sailing alone in the Indian Ocean. It is, in my opinion, a cinematic masterpiece. The images - both under and above the water - were stunning to the point of almost being overwhelming. The acting job by Redford is a tour de force. I sat breathless for much of the movie. It was simply incredible.

The movie is at the same time one of the loudest and the quietest movies I have seen experienced.

The crashing waves, spooling lines of rope, surging storms, spilling cargo, billowing sails, and howling wind are so loud at times that it makes the listener uncomfortable – but not because the volume was loud. It was because of the impact of the sounds.

The reason for this heightened audible impact was because the main character, Redford, only speaks three times in the entire movie. The sounds from other elements of the film are even more profound due to the absence of speaking from the only actor ever seen on screen.

Redford only speaks three times in the entire movie –

First he speaks into a radio he is trying to repair and pleads for someone to hear his SOS. He says it over and over several times asking for anyone to hear his cry of desperation. His voice is raspy and dry. The suffering he has already endured is evident.  He is pleading for help. He is asking for someone to hear his plea. But it is clear that no one hears his cry.

LGBTQ folks in the UMC have cried out for years for someone to hear their pain. Cries for help and change have gone unheard and unheeded by too many in the church.  We cannot even seem to be heard enough to agree that we disagree on the issue of homosexuality in our church. It’s as if the apparatus we are using to cry out is broken and the message is unable to get to those who need to hear. Or maybe they hear, but choose to ignore the anguish because they are so certain in their own positions on the issue.

Second he cried out in rage when his predicament becomes worse and worse – crying out in a loud voice “Fu#k” with all of the righteous indignation he could muster. We are beyond that point in the UMC. There is no way to know how many LGBTQ persons have felt our denomination, how many pastors have left over our position on sexuality, or how many person called into ministry have said way will they venture into our system. Many do so in deep pain – crying out with all of the righteous indignation they can muster. The strains are loud right now – on both sides of the debate. But the painful anguish of those excluded is pushing our church and I for one will continue to cry out with them.

The final time he speaks in the film is crying out to a passing ship, “Here! I’m here! Here! Help me!” The United Methodist Church often seems to be a gigantic passing ship not even aware of those who they have left behind. But I know many who are keenly aware. And many who are working hard to make their voices and their stories heard and known. We have Bishops, District Superintendents, pastors, laity, and leaders from all kinds of positions in the church whose hearts and minds are being changed to be receptive to the cry for full inclusion in our church.

In the end, the voices of those calling for inclusion are getting louder and louder. The media sees the UMC as a bully right now. Many are decrying the fact that despite the rules, a father celebrating the marriage of his son and his partner should not result in a church trial. Many are looking for our church – one of the last mainline Protestant denominations to embrace inclusion – to be who we say we are, United. Many are calling on our church to live out our doctrine and theology of grace. And many are pleading with rasping voices for our motto, Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors, to finally come into reality.

All is not lost – justice will prevail. Because I believe that grace is bigger than exclusion and inclusion will win in the end.

Being One of a Kind

 My Mom used to tell me that I was one of a kind. I knew she meant that I was not like my two sisters – who were one year older and one year younger than me. And I knew that she meant that I was different from the other folks my age as well.

I was always unique and marched to the beat of my own drummer. I read thousands of books, even ones the county librarian tried to talk me out of and called my Mom about.  I was a feminist in 1970's redneck West Texas. I wore a t-shirt that read, “A woman needs a man, like a fish needs a bicycle.” I did not follow the crowd and made my own way. I was certain that following the crowd was wrong and that I was supposed to do something different.

It was not always easy. I was teased and made fun of at times. I was made to feel different and was, on more than one occasion, taunted fairly viciously. It was not fun. Growing up different is tough. No matter the reason one finds themselves being considered different – gender, theology, sexual orientation, religion, wealth, educational level, political beliefs, physical abilities, family issues, philosophy, size, clothing choices, gender identity, age, or whatever.

But despite that, marching to my own drummer has continued to be my style all of these years. Sometimes it has made me feel alone, sometimes it has made me feel extremely powerful, and sometimes it has made me just feel different.

Recently I read a story about a whale called “52 Hertz.” This whale has been tracked for years and goes his own way. He does not follow the normal migration pattern of other whales of his “kind.” He makes whale sounds that are on a different frequency than other whales – hence the name 52 Hertz. He was discovered about 20 years ago and continues to make his unique sounding whale call – and there seems to be no answer.

This whale is one of a kind. His sound is one of a kind. He swims the ocean alone, perhaps malformed or maybe a hybrid of two other forms of whales. He is alone – one of a kind – doing his own thing.

We have no way to know if he is lonely or depressed or enjoying his unique nature, but songs and stories have been written about his isolation and loneliness anyway.

You would think that receiving no answer to his unique whale song for decades would mean he might stop – but he doesn’t. He keeps on singing on his own frequency. And he keeps on swimming the North Pacific alone.

One of the amazing things about my own journey is that I have found others who are “one of a kind” as well. We have found each other – through our own “whale song” of sorts and we have found community in each other as we swim. Sometimes they stay for short periods and sometimes for longer. But I keep looking for the other “one of a kind” folks out there.

52 Hertz goes on and on – alone in the world.  He keeps on calling in his unique tone but for whatever reason he never receives a reply. I wonder if he just hasn’t found the way to talk in a way that others like him can understand. Maybe he’s just not accepted because he is so different. I pray for him to find peace and happiness – whatever that looks like for 52 Hertz. And maybe he is happy – we have no way of knowing what he feels. But I know what it felt like growing up as a “one of a kind” person. Luckily I have found peace and happiness.

And I pray for you to find that as well. I pray for you to find someone who can hear your whale song. Whether you feel like you will never be accepted or have already found others – keep calling … keep swimming. There are others out there listening.

You are not alone.

Link to an article about 52 Hertz: http://blogs.plos.org/mitsciwrite/2013/03/05/the-search-for-the-loneliest-whale-in-the-world-pt-1/

The General Conference Post That Would Not Come …

I have tried for two weeks to write about the recent General Conference of The United Methodist Church.  I started to write in the weeks leading up to the conference about my hopes and dreams for our church, for our shared ministry, and for our celebration of and praise of a mighty and compassionate God.  I wrote and erased so many posts that I gave up.  My dreams were too big and my wishes too bold.  I dared not write them down.  Every time I did it scared me too much to post them.

In the first week of the General Conference I tried again as I saw amazingly blessed worship and an international church come together in praise of God.  I was stunned by the visioning and hope many delegates came with.  And I relished the stories they told about church growth, vital ministry, and stunning outreach.  It moved my heart and soul.  Then holy conferencing on the issue of sexuality sent many into a tailspin as some GLBT folks were bullied, intimidated and called names during a time when real conversations were supposed to be happening.  And I sat as no words would come.

I tried again after a good friend, Mark Miller, was silenced on the floor of the conference when he tried to speak about the bullying.  He was allowed to speak about some of the pain and the bishop prayed but he was still silenced.  I stood with Mark in the middle of my living room.  My ranting words were good for me to let loose but too much to share with others.  I wept for my church.  And no post came.

But I found myself once again attempting to write after only 56% of my church’s delegates voted that God’s love is available to all persons.  Why only 56%?  Because they thought it was a slippery slope to accepting persons they believe are incompatible with Christian teachings. (“They” will continue to say it is the practice of homosexuality that is incompatible but in truth they are condemning the very being of the GLBT members of our denomination).  That post was deleted as well.

I saw some hope in the legislative committee work over the weekend session and when a promised amendment to be presented on the floor was trying at the very least to get the church to acknowledge we are not all in agreement with the United Methodist stance on homosexuality.  I had some renewed hope and a sense of reserved joy.  That was dashed when some of the delegates instead spoke of bestiality and stoning of GLBT folks in the UMC from the floor.  The petition failed – as it has before.  That post never even made it onto the computer screen.

I tried to write after GLBT advocates entered the bar of the conference to witness to their own and others’ exclusion and to attempt to keep any more harm from happening on the floor of the conference.  But my tears blurred the screen and I could not find the words.

I once again made a valiant effort after the plan to restructure our church and work together for a renewed future for our denomination failed in committee, was resurrected and remade into PlanUMC, was adopted on the floor, and then was ruled unconstitutional by the Judicial Council.  We were back to square one with no plan and little time until the end of the conference.  But Bishop Goodpaster reminded us we still have a structure in the 2008 Book of Discipline and he said it better than I could.

So Sunday morning I got up and went to my UMC/UCC federated congregation in Chestnut Hill, PA.  It is a reconciling, affirming, anti-racist, environmentally active, advocacy-centered congregation that worships like no other church I have ever been part of.  I realized once again that the theology of my church – The United Methodist Church – is one of grace and love.  And it is lived out in this church in amazingly vivid ways.

A feast at my wonderful church.

But I am angry and hurt.  I was born into the UMC – I am a cradle Methodist.  My father is a UM pastor and I have a Methodist pastor in every generation back several generations.  I have an ancestor who was ordained by Francis Asbury.  I have lived and bled Wesleyan theology since birth.  But I am disappointed and angry.  And I am unsure what comes next for my church … and that makes me sadder than I have been in a very long time.

In the meantime I will continue to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ as passionately as I can.  I will continue to share my faith with others and bring the gospel to those who have not heard it before or who have had a bad experience with the church previously.  I will continue to advocate for full inclusion of all persons.  I will continue to teach my students to love the church – but to love their passion for transforming lives more.  I will continue to prepare candidates for ministry in the UMC by teaching them the history, doctrine and polity of our church.  I will continue to work around the corner and around the world to bring about an end to gun violence, racism, sexism, domestic violence, poverty, homophobia, inequality and other injustices.  I will continue to hope and work for a church that lives the gospel – fully and completely.

And I will continue to pray for my church, for all who are hurt and are impacted by the decisions of the last few weeks at General Conference – on all sides of these issues.  And I ask you to please pray for our church, for all who hurt, and for all who are impacted by these decisions.

Creating a World According to Micah 6:8

When I was growing up – I learned a passage from Micah from my grandfather.  The passage has been important to me ever since then.  This passage is the core of my faith. I recite it often.   I used it as the basis of my final Credo Paper for my Master of Divinity degree at Saint Paul School of Theology.  I have preached on it a number of times and it never ceases to bring me great joy and reminds me of who God calls us to be.

The passage says this, 

He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
   and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
   and to walk humbly with your God? (NRSV)

There is no small reason why this passage is vital to my faith – it is about justice, love and faithfulness.  Justice is part of me.  I breathe justice.  I work for it.  I pray for it.  I march for it.  I write my political leaders calling for it.  I teach it to my son.  I preach it in my sermons.  I teach it in my classes.  I try to live a just life in all I do.

But justice is sometimes hard to define in our society.  Some want justice only as they see it.  Some want justice for only a select group.  Some see a rush to justice without cause or evidence.  Others see justice denied by inaction.  There are multiple issues related to justice.  And it is hard to make folks see eye to eye on the issues.

But justice is justice for me – it is pretty clear.  Martin Luther King, Jr. said once, “Justice denied anywhere diminishes justice everywhere.”  I believe that.  We have to advocate for justice for all.  Regardless of who they are – their race, attire, gender, faith tradition, sexual orientation, age, size, creed, denomination, physical disabilities, or other element of their being.

I want to be clear – we may disagree on how justice is expressed – but justice must come.  For me it means justice for Trayvon Martin, for Shaima Alawadi, for thousands of named and unnamed persons killed every year by guns, for gays and lesbians struggling with inequality, and for persons kept in poverty by a system that makes it almost impossible to rise out of its depths.  It means advocating for an end of systemic racism, for an end to bullying for any reason, for an end of sexist practices in the church and workplace, and for so many more situations.

It is unjust that I can wear a hoodie anywhere and no one sees me as suspicious.  But it is even more unjust that a person of color is seen that way regardless of what they are wearing.

It is unjust that so many are denied rights afforded others because of their gender or orientation.  It is unjust that people are beaten or killed because of their faith.  It is unjust that many are treated differently because of their physical disabilities or abilities.

So we may disagree on how and when justice is present.  But let’s all agree to this -- to work toward a more just world … a world where no one is mistreated or hurt because they are different from us.

That is justice.

Silencing is the First Step of a Slippery Slope

I have been baffled, angered, and disturbed lately by the lack of women’s presence and voices on TV news, in other media outlets, and at the GOP Oversight and Government Reform Committee panel discussing women’s health and contraceptive issues.  The absurdity of excluding the one group of people who are most affected by their decisions and opinions is ridiculous.  I have friends who are Pro-Choice and Pro-Life and most from both groups are outraged by the silencing of women on this critical issue. 

"What I want to know is, where are the women?" Rep. Carolyn Maloney (D-N.Y.) asked Issa before walking out of the hearing after the first panel. "I look at this panel, and I don't see one single individual representing the tens of millions of women across the country who want and need insurance coverage for basic preventative health care services, including family planning. Where are the women?" (from HuffPost). 

Too many times in our culture the powerful people of politics, media, religion, etc. make decisions that relate to others without seeking their input.  It happens in churches and synagogues, meeting halls and parking lots.  It happens in local, state and national politics by the powerful listening to only those who can donate big bucks to their campaigns.  It happens in denominations and work places by silencing those who disagree with the majority or those in power.  It even happens at the altar and around the table of our Lord when some are welcomed and others are kept away. 

It happens in homes when the powerful deny the voices of the weak to be heard.  It happens in bullying and betrayal.  It happens when people speak of inclusion and acceptance but act contrary to those words.  It happens when groups refuse to even consider including someone from outside of their circle for inclusion.  It happens when games are played and some are left out. It happens when the needs and opinions of some are drowned out by the wants of the majority.

The slippery slope of silencing “the other” leads to exclusion and oppression.  

We have too much of this in our society already.  It happens too much!

We are called to do better!  We are called to be better!

10 Reasons Why I am a Political Junkie

Someone asked me the other day why I am so interested in politics.  They wondered why I watch CNN and C-SPAN, read political news and blogs, and pay close attention to the debates and public discourse of our political leaders and system.  Their reason … and they admitted it … is that they find it all too distasteful and polemical to watch anymore.  So here are my reasons for being part of the process by being a political junkie:

1.  I want to be part of the solution by being an informed voter.  So I pay attention to what candidates are saying during the election cycles – knowing they will likely not get everything done they promise during the campaign but it is important to note what they value and fight for once in office.

2.   Even national politics are local.  The decisions made in Washington affect my life in real ways – my taxes, the roads I drive on, the health care I have access to, the rights my family is afforded (or not), and the ways my son’s education is administered – just to name a few.

3.   I want to participate in creating dialogue between opposing sides of political debates.  This is hard to do but occasionally it can be an amazing process from which to learn and grow. (It can also be extremely difficult and painful – but I believe it is still worth the effort and risk.)

4.  I want to know where my tax dollars are being spent.  Sometimes I agree and sometimes I don’t but it is a good thing to know.  And if I disagree – I contact my representatives and let them know what I think about their decisions.

5.  Every once and a while you see our leaders come together to do something good.  This is rarer than I would want it to be, but it does happen.  Examples – and you may disagree – are increasing the number of kids receiving health care and keeping insurance companies from excluding people based on pre-existing conditions, caring for our planet, taking care of those less fortunate, and providing income help to those who have lost jobs.

6.   Being a participant and voting in every election since I turned 18 years of age allows me to complain with full confidence and integrity.  (LOL!)   I also know folks who never vote but whine all the time about elected officials.  This drives me crazy.

7.  C-SPAN can actually be fun to watch.  It shows us the “sausage making procedure” that is our political process.  It is often ugly and the ingredients are gross but the end result can be enlightening.

8.  I want my son to be part of the election and political process so we watch TV together and discuss the issues.  He is a very informed 13 year old.  He is concerned with the state of our political system and how it will affect his future so he wants to know what is happening.  That makes me proud.  (He also wants to be part of a political protest march someday.  We have marched against gun violence locally but he wants to march for/against something in Washington DC.)

9.  I can impact my community by advocating for new laws that protect the rights of the marginalized, disenfranchised, and powerless.  I can work to limit access to guns by person’s ineligible for purchasing them.  I can work to expand the rights of families who need protection.  I can convey to my elected officials what I value as they debate legislation.  This is the power of one vote – one voice combined with others.

10.  There are moments when I am proud of the system.  Like this week’s celebration of Rep. Gabby Giffords’ service to the House of Representatives.  The touching moment at the State of the Union and the next day's tribute were amazingly uplifting – from both sides of the aisle.  It reminded me of how we can be as a people.

These are just some of the reasons I am an active participant in the political process.  And obviously it is such a tough topic to discuss that I am sure some of you will disagree with my politics - but maybe we at least can agree on why we care.

Being Inspired

I was asked recently what inspires me.  I had a hard time answering the question.  Not because I did not know what inspires me, but because there are so many ways to answer that question. 

I get inspired in my personal life by beautiful nature, blessed friendships, connections to family, the laughter of my child, walks in the woods, awesome sunsets, opening buds of flowers, changing colors in the fall and so many other things.  I also get inspired by music, art, pop culture (some, not all), movies, and stories of overcoming obstacles. 

And I get inspired by the turn of a fantastic double play by baseball players who are paid too much, but jump up and down like little boys when they make a great play.  I get inspired by theater and a lofty song sung from the heart by a tremendous talent who has committed to their craft for years and paid their dues.

In my professional life I get inspired by the work of other homileticians (preaching professors) who work to teach their students options to express the Gospel in ways that engage and lift the people in their pews.  I am inspired by my students who reach for new learnings - sometimes forward bursting with enthusiasm, sometimes backward to safe shores, and sometimes shakily with fear and trepidation but who reach anyway. 

I am inspired by the affirmation of others who like my work. I got some of that this past weekend in Austin at the Academy of Homiletics.  Folks responded to my work and asked me questions that will lead me into further exploration.  I sat with PhD students who shared what they are working on and it inspired me to keep at it.  I had breakfast with fellow scholars from Drew University who are in the Academy and heard ways they are doing fantastic things in their field with the education they received from that institution. I got inspired by being in the room with some of my heroes of the art of preaching and hearing their stories of teaching and preaching.

I am inspired in my spiritual life by great preaching (of course), rituals that move my soul, the singing of many traditional hymns and some contemporary stuff, meditation and prayer, reading the Bible, working on a sermon, being in cathedrals and back rooms of pubs doing worship, talking about my faith with other journeyers, and feeling the breath of God.  I am inspired by the social justice work done by so many churches and individuals on so many issues - but especially working for the poor and marginalized.

I am inspired by the questions my teenage son asks about life and death, the ways my church celebrates the Eucharist, the prayers of the people of God lifted in unison, and the lighting of Advent candles in preparation of the Coming of Christ - as a babe the first time and again in the Second Coming. 

These are just some I the ways I am inspired generally and how I have been inspired this past week.  I hope you have a hard time answering that question, too.  I hope it is hard to think of an easy answer because so many different things inspire you in many, many ways.

I thank God for inspiration and for the opportunity to use those inspirations in my life, my work, and my faith.

Hate in a Smiley Face Card

I received my first anonymous hate mail today at my school.  It came in a card shaped envelope with my (misspelled) name typed on the front with my school address.  Inside there was a cute smiley face card.  I opened it and found a typed note – it was nasty and vile and attacked me personally.  The language was ugly and it sent me spinning for a bit.  I was not prepared for the reaction I had to it.

I have always taught my seminary students that there will likely never be a day in ministry when someone is not upset with them.  Often these folks let us know when they are frustrated with us either by confronting us in person or calling us to talk.  Sometimes they act out in a committee meeting or other group to let us know their feelings.  But this felt different.

I have been picketed by Fred Phelps’s church, Westboro Baptist, after being interviewed for the Kansas City Star followed General Conference in 2000 when they reaffirmed the language in our Discipline (church law) forbidding gays and lesbians from being ordained.  I stated in the article that I was pained by the decision and hoped we moved toward full inclusion someday.  Westboro picketed my church the next week.  It was nasty and painful, but this felt different.

This time it was anonymous.  In church ministry we often know when folks are upset.  When Westboro picketed me I knew who they were and why they were there.  But this was different – this felt so personal.  It was aimed at me personally.  So it felt personal.

The smiley face threw me off.  The cute and sweet smiley face that has always stood for fun and humor made it feel safe to open. That’s exactly what they expected.  They expected me to open it thinking it was safe.  And they expected it to hurt me, which it did.

And that made me mad.  I was upset about the power of that card to make me feel badly.  I have heard for years that “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.”  But that is bunk.  Words do hurt.  And words have power.  We have to choose to use our words for good and to not give too much power to those that aim to hurt us.  I gave those words too much power today, but I also knew I just had to process it some.

This evening I found out several other seminary professors around the country got the same cards today.  So it was not just me – and that helps in some way but also makes me even more determined to NOT let them win.

We have made someone mad – by speaking the truth about our beliefs or about who this person believes us to be.  Whatever the cause I will not be deterred.  I will continue to be who God made me to be.  I will continue to speak the truth and cry out for justice in many different ways.  I will continue to try to counter hate with love.

And no little smiley face card filled with hate will stop me.  So whoever you are … you DON’T win.  Love does.

Agreeing to Disagree in the Church

In every church and/or denomination there are disagreements.  Sometimes the disagreements are about seemingly “small” things – the color of the new carpet for the sanctuary, whether to move the worship time earlier in the summer since the church does not have air conditioning, whether or not to place a memorial plague on the new baptism font, or what time the youth group should meet for pizza.  Obviously these small disagreements can also be seen as HUGE issues depending on the nature of the deciders and the emotions behind the decision needing to be made.  I have seen churches make quick work of these decisions and I have seen them become acrimonious and last for months on end.

Then there are the other more difficult decisions churches have to make.  Sometimes they are about finances – whether or not to build or to close or to add staff.  Sometimes they are about outreach – whether or not to provide a food pantry for the community or to do some other hands on ministry.  Sometimes it is about advocacy – whether or not to speak out against an injustice for those who have no voice.  Sometimes it is about pastoral ministry – whether or not to call or ordain a particular pastor or not.  Sometimes it is about theology – what we believe to be the core theological issue related to baptism or Eucharist or how we think of God.  Sometimes it is about scriptural interpretation – whether or not a particular text means one thing or another or several things at once.

In many churches today disagreements are happening on a regular basis.  Some of them are about seemingly small issues that have become big ones.  Some of them are about BIG issues that are sometimes being thought about in small ways.  Some of them are about big issues and deserve a big table to discuss them around.  No matter what the issues are they all have an impact on those involved – either directly or indirectly.

I am part of a UM Clergy group on Facebook that was created to discuss ministry issues and be a network of support for each other.  Unfortunately, it has devolved into a debating group about the issue of homosexuality and gay marriage on too many threads of conversation.  The issue deserves serious and continued discussion, but that is best done in one-on-one and in small group dialogues where people establish relationships and a level of trust so that they can hear and be heard by others in the group.  This kind of anonymous posting on a Facebook wall and then debating by belittling and demeaning others’ points of view has become tiresome and overwhelming.  There seems to be little room for disagreement without denigrating the person who holds a different perspective.  There are times when even asking a question about a post prompts a tirade.   And on occasion I have posted as well – though I think I have tried never to get personal.

There have been significant changes in how we interpret biblical passages regarding slavery, women in ministry and other passages throughout history.  I believe passages related to homosexuality should be given the same kind of intense scrutiny and interpretative perspective. 

In my tradition we hold Scripture as being primary, however we also are called on to use our own reason, experience and the tradition of the church to determine how we come to theological conclusions and often how we interpret texts.  It is called the Wesleyan Quadrilateral and it is formative to how we as Wesleyans view the reading of biblical texts and the living of our faith lives.  Wesley did not create it – Albert Outler did in his edited work on Wesley in 1964. Outler regrets the term today because it seems to make Wesleyans, and others, think of these four sources as being equal.  And for Wesley they never were.  Scripture was always primary.  But the other sources are vitally important considerations in our theological endeavors. 


The very nature of this quadrilateral means we as Wesleyans have ample opportunity to disagree.  We all read the same Scriptures but the rest of our quadrilateral informs that reading and helps us determine how we come to theological understandings.  Our tradition is varied depending on where we come from, our congregational traditions, and interpretations of our denominational tradition.  We all think differently and reason using differing levels of education, understanding and interest.  Our experiences are as varied as we are - all living unique lives of varying opportunities and possibilities.  All of this means we are bound to come to different theological positions - that allows for the full richness of our denomination.  The fact that we do not all agree is part of who we are.  I never want to lose that.  However, it has become dangerous in some circles.

For many the use of Scripture has become a stick with which to beat others on the head in an attempt to force them to agree with another’s perspective.  For many the use of Scripture has become a way to force others to live out their lives guided by someone else’s archaic understandings of biblical interpretation.  For others it is a grace-filled word of love and grace that opens us up to amazing possibilities.  For still others it is the guide for all things good and noble.  For many it is the Word of God – laid out for us in the Old and New Testaments.

I do not believe we can solve difficult issues by arguing past each other and by pressing our points of view at the expense of relationships.  I do not believe that by belittling others we win points in theological discussions.  I do not believe that the scriptures are weapons.  I do not believe that we make headway by being mean to each other.

I get frustrated with the slow nature of change.  I get tired of trying to get people to listen to other possibilities.  I get annoyed by the reality of exclusion in our churches and in my church in particular.  I disagree with the way many of these texts are used today.  I believe God calls all kinds of people and the church should be open to their gifts for ministry – all of them.  It is God's role to call folks - not mine.  It is my job to affirm those gifts and help nurture and support them.  It is my job to engage those gifts in seminary and prepare those persons for transformative ministry in the world.

You may not agree with me – but I welcome the discussion.  I welcome an open and honest discussion that uses all of our sources as interpretative tools – not just one person’s view of only way to read a text or point of view.  We can talk about carpet color or about the nature of the church or about what we believe the church is calling us to do and be.

So … let’s talk and listen to each other.