Look forward, not back: A United Methodist Pastor on history and the future

I’m making a very simple point here: Let’s stop comparing our present to our past. Our context is different from those other places and eras. Discipleship in the 21st century may have nothing to do with church attendance, or baptisms, or recorded professions of faith. It may have nothing to do with buildings, denominations or clergy.

So let’s quit trying to rebuild, recapture, redo old-time Methodism, whatever it was. Stop worrying about “death tsunamis” and “declining attendance” and “shrinking budgets.”

The serious disciple of Jesus only has one real question to answer: What does it mean to follow Jesus here and now?

via  The United Methodist Portal.

“Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me”

Bishop Morlino of the Catholic Diocese of Madison, has instructed his clergy to limit the sharing of wine at communion with the laity. Here’s the article.

His decision comes after the Archbishop of Phoenix announced a similar change. Stories about that are here, with a riposte from Anthony Ruff here.

I’m hesitant to comment about development in other denominations because of “the mote in my own eye.” But as a pastor, and as a historian of the period in Christian history when the debate over reception of communion in both kinds burned hot, I find this sad. I won’t debate the legal merits of the decision or even the theological basis (of course Jesus Christ is fully present in both bread and wine). What bothers me is the implicit sacerdotalism and clericalism. To worry about spillage of wine or that some might receive it irreverently seems code language implying that only priests can approach the sacrament. The sharing of the chalice by lay people with lay people is an important symbol of the fact that we are all the Body of Christ and that we all are equally worthy (or unworthy) to approach the holy.

And then there are Jesus’ words:

In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” (I Corinthians 11:25-26)

All baptized Christians are welcome to receive communion in both kinds at Eucharists at Grace and other Episcopal Churches and we encourage lay people to become chalice bearers.

Profile in Courage: The Archbishop of Canterbury’s visit to Zimbabwe

There’s a remarkable story unfolding in Africa. The Archbishop of Canterbury is visiting Zimbabwe, where the Anglican Church is caught up in the world-wide controversy over the ongoing rule of Robert Mugabe. A close friend of Mugabe, Nolbert Kunonga was Bishop of Harare. He was excommunicated and replaced by Chad Gandiya. This conflict has resulted in Zimbabwe Anglicans being locked out of their churches, beaten, and arrested.

On Sunday, Rowan Williams preached to a gathering of some 15,000 people. In his sermon, he said:

You know very well, dear brothers and sisters, what it means to have doors locked in your faces by those who claim the name of Christians and Anglicans. You know how those who by their greed and violence have refused the grace of God try to silence your worship and frustrate your witness in the churches and schools and hospitals of this country. But you also know what Jesus’ parable teaches us so powerfully – that the will of God to invite people to his feast is so strong that it can triumph even over these mindless and Godless assaults. Just as the Risen Jesus breaks through the locked doors of fear and suspicion, so he continues to call you and empower you in spite of all efforts to defeat you. And in the Revelation to John, the Lord proclaims that he has set before us an open door that no-one can shut. It is the door of his promise, the door of his mercy, the door into the feast of his Kingdom.

Directly critical of both colonialism and the continued rape of Africa’s natural resources for the material gain of a few, Williams spoke truth to power. He also sought a meeting with Mugabe where he could directly voice his concerns about the Anglican Church and about the overall situation in Zimbabwe.

The conflict over human sexuality within the Anglican Communion also played a role in this visit, with both Mugabe and Kunonga raising it in rather nasty terms. A spokesman for Mugabe is quoted by The Guardian:

“The second issue that the president wants this man of God to clarify is why his Anglican church thinks homosexuality is good for us and why it should be prescribed for us. He thinks the archbishop will be polite enough to point to him that portion of the Great Book [that] sanctions homosexuality and sanctions sanctions.”

I’ve been critical of the Archbishop in the past and continue to disagree with some of his positions, and his plans for the Anglican Covenant. Still, for him to challenge Mugabe directly in such a way is courageous. I wonder how many other leaders, political or religious, would be as brave. It’s also instructive to see how the Anglican debates are used by Mugabe and Kunonga to de-legitimize Williams’ message.

I’m also more than a little disappointed in the reaction among Episcopalians to this visit and the Archbishop’s words. While the Episcopal Cafe has covered the story, I’ve seen no mention from any of the bloggers who are most critical of Williams’ actions toward the Episcopal Church. I wonder why.

The text of Williams’ sermon is here. The Guardian’s article is here. Coverage by Thinking Anglicans is thorough; an article from the Episcopal Cafe.

A reflection from Nick Spencer on CNN’s Belief Blog:

God’s generosity, our generosity: A Sermon for Proper 23, Year A

October 9, 2011

On the surface, the parables we heard this morning seem quite familiar to us. Hearing a story about a king throwing a wedding banquet may conjure up for us memories of the royal wedding last spring. All the more so, because one of the chief fascinations with that event was the suspense about the wedding dress and what all of the guests would be wearing. In contemporary culture, weddings are one of those few occasions we have when people get dressed up in their finest and expect a really good party. Continue reading

Witness to history: The ordination of Scott Anderson

And a little bit of a participant, too.

Scott Anderson’s ordination took place on a glorious fall day in Madison. It’s warm and sunny, and the leaves are reaching the peak of fall color. On the street corner opposite Covenant Presbyterian Church, a small group of protestors led by people from Westboro Baptist Church, held their signs denouncing the ordination of LGBT people. Opposite them stood a larger group protesting the protestors. There were TV news trucks on the street as well.

Inside, there was joy, thanksgiving, and celebration. There was also acknowledgement that this event was not being celebrated by all Christians, or all Presbyterians, that there is division, and hurt.

As I sat there, I thought of all of those, including Scott, who have struggled over the last decades, people whose callings were denied; clergy who were forced to live a lie, and many who still do. I thought of the gay clergy I’ve known, those who have been able to serve openly and those who have not. I thought of all of those who have struggled in the ordination process with their sexuality and were not able to answer God’s call.

Perhaps the most poignant moment came when Scott received back the stole that had been given him by his first congregation, made by Hmong members of that congregation. It was a stole he sent to the “Shower of Stoles” project, a spontaneous effort begun when one Presbyterian minister was forced to give up her ordination. The stoles represent LGBT clergy or lay persons who have not been able to live out their call in the church. Now there are more than 1100 stoles in the project, but Scott’s is the first to return to its first owner. It’s a remarkable story. Scott is a remarkable man, full of love, grace, and humility.

At the moment of ordination, all clergy and elders were invited to come forward for the laying on of hands. It was a powerful moment. Sharing in the gift of the Holy Spirit, sharing in this historic ordination, the hands that reached out to touch the shoulders of the person in front of us, were also reaching out to heal a broken world, and a broken church. As we stood and prayed, I caught a glimpse of the congregation. It seemed like almost all of the pews were empty. Clergy from all over the country, from many denominations, participated in this laying on of hands.

As  I sat, I wondered when I would be sitting in a parish of the Episcopal Diocese of Milwaukee, participating in the ordination of a LGBT person to the diaconate or priesthood. I pray for that day.

Is America a Christian Nation?

 

What would it look like if it were?

Adam Lee points out:

In reality, there’s such a huge diversity of opinion among self-professed Christians past and present that the term “Christian values” could mean almost anything.

Christians have been communists and socialists (including Francis Bellamy, the author of the Pledge of Allegiance); Christians have supported empire and dictatorship (including Mussolini, who made Catholicism the official state religion of fascist Italy). Christians have advocated positions across the political spectrum, from environmental preservation to environmental destruction, from pacifism to just war to open advocacy of genocide, from civil rights to segregation and slavery.

He discusses what forms of government are sanctioned in the Bible and points out that democracy is nowhere mentioned. Then he provides a lesson in constitutional history, observing that the constitution is a “godless” document.

… it’s easy to see just how unique, unusual, even unprecedented the Constitution is. The United States of America was the first modern republic that was created on the foundation of reason, without seeking blessings from a god, without imploring divine assistance or invoking divine favor. And, as I said, this fact was not overlooked when the Constitution was being debated. Very much to the contrary, the religious right of the founding generation angrily attacked it, warning that ratifying this godless document as-is would spell doom for the nation.

Tom Ehrich answers the same question from a very different perspective:

If we were a genuinely Christian nation, we would be gathering the harvest of this abundant land and sharing it with the hungry of our own land and of many lands. We would forgive our enemies, speak truth to power and go forth to serve and to sacrifice, not to rule.

We would stand with the poor when predators circled around them. We would stand with sinners when the self-righteous picked up stones. We would join hands with nonconformists and strangers.

We would become God’s beacon to the nations. And when the tired and poor followed that light to our borders, we would greet them with open arms and make room for them in our communities.

That’s what Jesus did, and that is what it would mean to be a Christian nation.

Do we need denominations?

Ken Carter has written an essay arguing for the importance of denominations. His starting point is the problem of authority and governance. Using a non-denominational church as an example, he shows what happens when authority is situated only in the local congregation (and its pastor), and the problems that arise for staff and when conflict arises.

I love the local church. It is the basic context for the mission of making disciples for the transformation of the world. At the same time, the local church will, on occasion, be stronger as it accomplishes mission that is beyond its own capacity, and as it is accountable to a wisdom that is outside its own day to day movements. Here the analogy of Ronald Heifitz of the dance and the balcony is helpful. Faithful congregations and clergy are engaged in the dance, the daily and weekly movements that, added together, shape parish life: worship, spiritual formation, pastoral care, local and global outreach, evangelism. A balcony perspective, in times of health and in times of crisis, will help the local church to sustain this activity. The absence of such a balcony perspective, in particular circumstances, can lead to chaos and a constricting of the movement of energy. A denomination, at its best, provides that balcony perspective: a person in authority who can intervene in a season of conflict, or a compelling and needed mission that can lift the vision of a community beyond itself.

Carter’s essay is here.

One can see these dynamics at play in the Episcopal Church. In the last couple of weeks, we have seen increasing debate over national structure. This week saw the emergence of an investigation into the Episcopal Bishop of South Carolina (follow the story here, here, and here). Episcopalians believe our polity (bishops, dioceses, local parishes) is not simply a matter of convenience or “best practices,” but rather that it reflects the New Testament understanding of church (to be sure, Baptists, Presbyterians, et al, believe the same).

I think Carter is asking the wrong question. By focusing on conflict, authority, governance, and structure, he is emphasizing organization rather than mission and ministry. Few denominations, even when identified in terms of polity (Episcopal, Presbyterian) were created to embody that particular structure. Instead, they emerged out of unique theological, spiritual, and liturgical insights, which together make up their ethos. If denominations are to survive, it is because they will continue to embody a particular vision of the church, one that is not embodied in other forms of Christianity.

It’s when we lose sight of that, a particular ethos, charism, or voice, that denominations atrophy and deserve to die. At the same time, many of those non-denominational churches which Carter mentions have come to take on the characteristics of denominations, even if they don’t admit it. I think what we’re seeing, though, may not be the end of denominations, but their transformation into something different, more organic and fluid, and less structured.

I suppose the question for me in a case like the Diocese of South Carolina, is whether it continues to embody the charism of Anglicanism in its current form. I’m not able to make that judgment from this distance.

The ordination of Scott Anderson

On Saturday, October 8, Scott Anderson will be ordained to the ministry by the John Knox Presbytery of the PCUSA at Covenant Presbyterian Church in Madison, WI. I will be attending. So, too, apparently, will protestors from Fred Phelps’ Westboro Baptist Church. Here’s the article.

It’s already something of a media circus but I’ve been in touch with Scott and with the interim pastor of Covenant and they seem to be handling everything with grace. Keep them in your prayers.

A profile of Scott from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.

I will post my reflections on Saturday.