NY Methodist distressed by UMC

A Methodist from New York has written a lament over what he sees as the rightward shift in the United Methodist Church.

“Theological pluralism”, or the “inclusive church”, or the denomination that practiced Mr. Wesley’s “If your heart is as my heart, then give me your hand”, are vanishing. They are being replaced by an exclusivity – and by a surprising and unfortunate overlooking of reason and of experience from the Quadrilateral – and by a narrow theological literalism that is contrary to the basic Protestant Christian teaching of the individual’s relationship directly to/with God.

The author makes use of a popular quote from John Wesley’s sermon “Catholic Spirit.” That sermon certainly rewards reading. I’m not sure Wesley would use it to advance the argument this author makes, but that would be an interesting conversation.

None left behind

I did not see this story about disgraced pastor Ted Haggard when it first came out, but I am glad I did. It is a story about reaching out to Haggard and raising questions about why we Christians seem to turn our backs on the fallen among us.

The author finds himself reflecting on the words of friends who had told him that they will reject him if he reaches out to Haggard. And that stirs thoughts of Huck Finn.

The Ted Haggard issue reminds me of a scene in Mark Twain’s, Huckleberry Finn. Huck is told that if he doesn’t turn in his friend, a runaway slave named Jim, he will surely burn in hell. So one day Huck, not wanting to lose his soul to Satan, writes a letter to Jim’s owner telling her of Jim’s whereabouts. After folding the letter, he starts to think about what his friend has meant to him, how Jim took the night watch so he could sleep, how they laughed and survived together. Jim is his friend and that is worth reconsideration. Huck realizes that it’s either Jim’s friendship or hell. Then the great Mark Twain writes such wonderful words of resolve. Huck rips the paper and says, “Alright then, I guess I’ll go to hell.”

Twain did not believe in Hell, so far as I can tell, so I’m not sure what Twain thought of Huck’s sacrifice. Did he think Huck was taking an actual risk? I also note that the preacher or person who told Huck he’d go to Hell for not turning in Jim was wrong. But all that aside, the author of the article saw this as a case of sacrificial love in the mode of Jesus himself. Huck was willing to risk Hell to remain loyal to Jim.

I may be wrong, but I think this is the kind of sensibility folks such as the Rev. Dr. Thomas Ogletree have about their choices regarding church law and discipline. Loyalty matters more than consequences. I reflect on this because I am working on a post about Ogletree’s argument that takes a look at the structure of his argument (look for it tomorrow). The Haggard story reminds me that these are affairs of the heart, maybe primarily so.

In case you are interested, here is a video of Ted Haggard talking about how Christians become arrogant. Listen and you’ll hear him say “All means all.”

A true Church-of-England man

In 1745 and thereafter, John Wesley exchanged a series of letters with a Mr. John Smith, who the editor of my copy of the works of Wesley notes is generally presumed to have been the Bishop of Oxford writing anonymously.

In one of the letters, the bishop accuses Wesley of deviating from the teachings of the Church of England. Smith criticizes Wesley for always appealing to the official doctrinal standards of the church in defending himself from such charges. The Articles of Religion of the Church of England and the Homilies were adopted in the 16th century. Smith writes that he is accusing Wesley not of deviating from those, but of deviating from the doctrines as actually preached in the 18th century Church of England, which presumably did not reflect the official doctrinal standards.

Wesley replies:

Well, how blind was I! I always supposed, till the very hour I read these words, that when I was charged with differing from the Church, I was charged with differing from the Articles and Homilies. And for the compilers of these, I can sincerely profess great deference and veneration. But I cannot honestly profess any veneration at all for those Pastors of the present age, who solemnly subscribe to those Articles and Homilies which they do not believe in their hearts. Nay, I think, unless I differ from these men (be they Bishops, Priests, or Deacons) just as widely as they do from the Articles and Homilies, I am no true Church-of-England man.

This exchange struck me as quite similar to our situation in the United Methodist Church. We have our doctrinal standards that were established a 200 years ago. By every official word, they are the standard of teaching in our churches. But they bear little actual influence throughout a great number of our churches.

To be a true United Methodist, then, should we reflect the preaching and teaching of our day or — if it differs — the doctrinal standards set out in our Book of Discipline?

James O’Kelly victorious?

In the early days of American Methodism the church split

James O’Kelly, a popular Virginia elder, opposed the power that Francis Asbury exercised over the Methodist connection. O’Kelly offered a proposal at General Conference in 1792 to allow preachers who did not like their appointment to appeal the bishop’s decision to the body of the conference.

In debate, O’Kelly drew a picture of American Methodism in which preachers and congregations had more control over appointments. He appealed to republican sentiments in the young nation and pointed out that Asbury had been raised under the influence of the English monarchy and brought those tendencies with him to America. He warned of the power of bishops.

Supporters of Asbury argued that O’Kelly’s system would create a situation in which wealthy and attractive circuits had a multitude of preachers and poor or undesirable circuits had none. An increase of congregational and pastoral control over appointments would all but destroy the itinerant system, they feared. It would also lead to sectional divisions within the church when preachers stopped being appointed beyond their home circuits and identified more with a region than with the broader agenda of the church.

O’Kelly lost in 1792 and broke off from the Methodist Episcopal Church. It turned out, however, that the Methodist system proved much more flexible and responsive to the needs of the growing nation than O’Kelly’s Republican Methodism, which failed to grow or spread like its parent church.

O’Kelly lost.

Or did he?

In some ways, it seems that today we United Methodists reflect his vision far more than Asbury’s. Could it be that James O’Kelly won the argument even though he lost the vote back in 1792?

Twins of the UMC

Two issues in United Methodism look like twins from where I stand.

In both cases, the United Methodist Church has clear and plain law against the practice.

In both cases, opponents of the UMC law say they read the Bible and find support for their position.

In both cases, advocates bolster their biblical argument with an appeal to the experience of the thing itself. It feels right or good or loving to them.

The two issues are same-sex weddings and rebaptism.

Although the advocates of these two practices would, in most cases, not see themselves as mirror images of each other, I am struck by how similar in form the arguments are. The content of their arguments are different. Their theological commitments (especially about the nature of Scripture) are often quite different. But the arguments they make are mirror images of each other.

The argument on both sides, as I see it, goes like this:

The UMC position is wrong and should not be followed (or should be changed) because:

1) My reading of Scripture conflicts with the reading behind the UMC position.

2) This is a pastoral issue of care for my people.

3) It feels right when I do this thing, and it feels wrong when I do not.

One argument leads to rebaptism and the other leads to clergy blessing same-sex weddings.

I know and know of pastors who do one or the other.

It may just be that this is the form that all arguments take when they lead us to say the status quo in the church should change. But I had not noticed the similarities before and find them fascinating.

Agree to disagree okay on infant baptism?

My blogging friend Talbot Davis has stirred up a good deal of heat and conversation by writing that he no longer believes in infant baptism.

It’s not complicated, it’s not a spiritual birthmark, it’s not a naming ceremony, it’s not even the New Testament equivalent of circumcision.  It’s death to the old life and resurrection to the new.  And babies don’t have old lives to die to.

I have written on this issue a few times, and Talbot and I have exchanged views in public and private. He is convinced believer’s baptism is Scriptural. I will point out as well that the pastor of one of the largest United Methodist congregations in my conference is an active proponent of believer’s baptism and infant dedication. So far neither the vortex of hell nor the bishop’s ire has overtaken that pastor.

As you might imagine — given my ‘company man’ and Wesleyan ways — I support the United Methodist law and doctrine on infant baptism, even though I myself was an adult convert to the faith.

Here are two of my posts about infant baptism in the UMC, if you care to read them (the second is more polemical):

Why I baptize infants

United Methodists baptize babies

And, on a slightly different note, here is one of my favorite John Wesley statements on baptism, in which Father John argues in favor of sprinkling as a valid form of baptism.

It is true, we read of being “buried with Christ in baptism.” But nothing can be inferred from such a figurative expression. Nay, if it held exactly, it would make as much for sprinkling as for plunging; since, in burying, the body is not plunged through the substance of the earth, but rather earth is poured or sprinkled upon it.

‘Those who follow the Discipline are called Methodists’

Former bishop of my conference Woodie White writes a fascinating peek into Methodist (pre-UM) history and the lesson he learned about the power of Methodist polity. Yes, polity.

Here is the grabbing paragraph near the beginning for white guys like me who were born as the great battles of the Civil Rights era were being won.

White writes of a 1963 meeting with a pastor of a segregationist Methodist church.

The pastor’s congregation, sadly, like a number of Methodist congregations at the time, had voted that no black people would be welcomed or admitted to public worship.

White recounts the exchange in which he read from the Social Creed of the Methodist Episcopal Church and part of the Book of Resolutions. The white pastor announced that he was not compelled to follow those because they are not church law. White asked whether he would follow such pronouncements if they were the law of the church. The pastor said he would.

White reflects:

The conversation with a pastor who would be willing (however reluctantly) to change a way of life, traditions and long-held views because the Methodist Church through its polity commanded that he go another way, was compelling to me. I began to see the power and potential of using polity for good, and silently vowed to employ it to encourage what I considered a true expression of the gospel, consistent with the message and ministry of Jesus.

Our United Methodist polity has been much under discussion and debate in the last several months, as a result of General Conference actions and Judicial Council decisions. To be sure, as from the early days of the church, Christians often differ as to what is in fact consistent with Christ’s teachings in the Gospels.

But United Methodism has a self-correcting polity. Every four years we open the Book of Discipline and seek to express in it what we believe is the best and clearest expression of Christ in contemporary society.

Sometimes we get it right. And sometimes, many believe, we get it wrong. I pray that as United Methodism continues to engage in the quest to find a “better way,” we remember that what “connects our Connection” is our polity, through the Book of Discipline.

One might say: Those who follow Jesus are called Christians, those who follow Wesley are called Wesleyans, and those who follow the Discipline are called Methodists.

An experiment at nonviolent communication

Asbury seminary president Timothy Tennent writes about why evangelicals spend so much time and energy talking about homosexual sex.

In one sense, you won’t read anything new here. But I do find the post and the comments thread an interesting case study in the way we talk past each other. For all the times we use terms like “Christian conferencing” and take classes on nonviolent communication and speak of hearing the other person before speaking, we do not practice that very well, at least not on the Internet. This is probably due as much to the nature of the medium as it is to our intentions. The Internet is not nearly as interactive or “social” as we claim it is.

What we tend to do in “conversations” about hard issues is lob arguments at each other. Often, these arguments include all manner of statements about the thoughts, motivations, and emotions of other people. Almost always as they go back and forth they lose all contact with the point the other person was trying to express or discuss. We seek to get our point across rather than listen to the other side. We don’t want to let anything with which we disagree go unchallenged. Or at least I know that is what I do when in a difficult conversation.

So, I want to try an exercise in listening on my blog. I’m going to try to write what I hear Tennent writing in his post. My goal here is not to offer my reactions or analysis, but to say accurately, without using a lot of direct quotation, what he would recognize as the point he is trying to make. I invite you to help me listen better by pointing out where and how my summary might miss important things.

Here is what I hear him writing:

Evangelical Christians feel the need to spend so much time and energy talking about and organizing actions with regard to homosexuality because they feel that harm is done to the church when something sinful is treated as if it were holy.

I’m not sure this is a fair statement of what he wrote. In a real conversation, I could ask him. (I have posted a version of this on his blog to try to do just that.) Before I react or respond, I would want to be certain I am hearing him as he intends to be heard.

What do you think? Is this close to what he is trying to say?