I
have come home from these conferences, and probably will this week, burdened by
a keen sense that I have failed some people, that they vested hopes in me
getting something done which I didn’t get done. It’s like preaching: it’s way
harder than it looks. So many factors, such a large, unwieldy body of divergent
people, much less the complicated process.
I’ve always said that the virtue to the
Methodist church is that we meet and vote on many issues – and if you’re in the
43% that didn’t prevail, you don’t get excommunicated. I like being in a big tent
church where we have, expect, delight in and benefit from disagreement.
That is, until the disagreement harms
people. “First do no harm” is the core guideline – and yet harm gets done. I
have a clear calling, and I hope you’ll join me in this, to stand with those hurt
by the church on this or anything whatsoever, and to do all we can to stop harm
being done.
At any rate, it appears that tomorrow some
version of the Traditional Plan (which “does not condone the practice of
homosexuality,” and thus won’t ordain or marry LGBTQ people) will prevail –
although there are constitutional quandaries, primarily around the fiercer form
being entertained. What that will mean won’t be pretty. We hear chatter about threatened
departures, maybe a whole new more accepting denomination? Who knows? We hear
that, quite understandably, our seminaries will be severing ties with that more
fiercely traditional church. The Church as we have known it will not be.
I am choosing, today, to be hopeful about
that, and to trust that God is bigger than a squabbling denomination, and that
God can use the many people here and those they represent who are doing their
dead level best to serve God faithfully. Some new, surprising life will rise up
out of the dark place where we have found ourselves. The Church you and I dream of, one that young people will live into, will dawn, is dawning. What that looks like I do
not know. What that means for the balance of my ministerial career, what I will do, I do not
know. What that means for the Church where I am privileged to be the pastor, I
do not yet know. But God is still God, and all will in time be well. God’s got
us. All will be well.
I would say that the highlight of the day
in many ways was a late in the day speech
by J.J. Warren that roused much of the crowd to its feet. Even if you are
on the other “side,” you have to adore this young person’s passion for Jesus
and those who don’t know Jesus.
I have often said the most astonishing
sign of God’s grace in the church is that LGBTQ people who have been judged
harshly and told they are not “condoned” have stayed in the church, loved the
church, served alongside those who would rather be rid of them. God’s grace for
all of us looks just like that.
If music helps you, check out my choir
singing “For
Everyone Born” (by Brian Mann, arranged by Tom Trenney).
