The Way We Were: Remembering Bishop White

He has told you, O people, 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?
Micah 6:8

Bishop C. Dale White passed away yesterday, March 29, 2019, at the age of 94.

For many of us the loss is personal, but it is also a loss for our denomination and for the larger church. In remembering Dale, we remember the way we used to be and we remember what we have lost.

In his lifetime he embodied the best of United Methodism. He was a faithful and effective witness for social justice, and a fearless advocate for the core values of the Gospel. He had deep faith and uncompromising integrity. He always spoke the truth, even when the truth was hard to hear, and he always spoke the truth in love, with genuine caring for those who did not see things as clearly as he did.

Dale was my first District Superintendent. He called me to go to my first appointment, in Mansfield, Massachusetts. And I called him for advice more times than I have called all of the District Superintendents since then. And he was always patient and helpful. Just before he left for the Jurisdictional Conference at which he was elected Bishop, he called and asked me to go to Mathewson Street in Providence to work with Bill Ziegler.

In an article in UMNews, Linda Bloom reports that Jaydee Hanson, a longtime friend and former staff member of the United Methodist Board of Church and Society, described Dale as having a “gentle fearlessness” that engaged people. “Dale had an abundance of vision but offered it in a way that people could adopt it,” he told United Methodist News Service.

Dale was genuinely pained by the way that the causes he advocated so relentlessly were unsettling and disorienting to those who were stuck in old paradigms. He knew the cost of doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly in the ways of God.

After his retirement as a Bishop he preached at our Annual Conference about the role of the pastor in the life of a congregation. One of the most difficult aspects of our calling, he said, is the responsibility to always be ahead of the curve on issues of social justice. If we are faithful we will always be in the lonely position of advocating for causes that have barely entered the consciousness of many of the people we serve. 

Retired Bishop William Boyd Grove, a friend and colleague of Dale’s, spoke of his interest in interfaith relations, international affairs and the lives of people everywhere which landed him in some unusual places. In the early months of the Iran hostage crisis, Grove recounted, Dale was part of a seven-member U.S. delegation that traveled to Iran in hopes of helping the situation by “reaffirming and restoring friendship between the American and Iranian peoples.”

Grove observed that one of Dale’s most significant contributions was the 1986 public statement of the United Methodist Council of Bishops called "In Defense of Creation: The Nuclear Crisis and a Just Peace."

More than any other bishop, said Grove, Dale was responsible for that pastoral letter and study guide. “It was Dale’s idea and he chaired the task force, and it was really his baby.” And it had a profound impact on the church and beyond the church, by moving the nuclear arms debate beyond politics and foreign policy.

In 1996 Dale joined with fourteen other United Methodist Bishops who chose to break their silence and speak out in opposition to the prohibition of LGBTQ persons serving in ordained ministry.

Not surprisingly, Bishop White was not just the embodiment of everything that the church has traditionally stood for, he was also the incarnation of everything the right-wing groups have opposed.

If you knew Dale, you knew him to be a person of deep faith. But for those who equate faith with right-wing politics and quasi-fundamentalist theology, they could not believe that he was a “real Christian.” He was frequently asked if he was “born again.” He would smile and say, “Yes, just this morning.” Faith was, for him, a constant process of renewal and rebirth. We are continually being made new.

Finally, or maybe we should say, “firstly,” there was his marriage to Gwen. Gwendolyn Ruth Horton and Clarence Dale White were married on August 25, 1946. They were married for more than 70 years before Gwen’s death in 2017. They shared the same deep faith and the same openness to the spiritual journey. Together they raised six children and left a legacy of shared love and discipleship.

The way they were is the way the church ought to be.

Faith Is Not about Orthodoxy; It's about Following Jesus

Jesus said to them, “Come and follow me . . .”
Matthew 4:19

According to the Gospel records, Jesus issues that same simple invitation repeatedly. He tells the fishermen that he will teach them to fish for people and he calls on a rich young man to first, “go and sell all that you have, and give it to the poor.” He asks Levi to leave his work as a tax collector.

The invitations are simple and direct.

He does not ask them for an affirmation of faith. He does not ask them to believe in him or have faith in him or believe anything about him. He does not ask them to believe anything at all. They don’t have to affirm a doctrine or recite a creed, or even say a prayer.

They are simply invited to follow.

I thought about the simplicity of that original invitation as I read a recent post by Mark Tooley on the “Juicy Ecumenism” blog of the Institute on Religion and Democracy (IRD). His essay is a critique of a blog post by Rev. Roger Wolsey, a United Methodist elder, who was writing about Progressive Christianity.

Mr. Tooley begins by quoting what Rev. Wolsey says he doesn’t believe:

“Friends, Jesus isn’t God. Jesus didn’t die for our sins. Jesus wasn’t killed instead of us. God isn’t wrathful or vindictive. There isn’t a hell (other than ones that we create here on this earth). Going to heaven after we die isn’t what the faith or salvation is about. God didn’t write the Bible."

That sounds a lot more radical than it is.

One of the hazards of Progressive Christianity is that it is too often more about what we don’t believe than about what we do believe.

But one of the reasons Progressive Christians expend so much energy on what they don’t believe is because allegedly “orthodox” Christians say so many things that require response. The affirmations of the current “orthodoxy” are often little more than a thinly veiled biblical and creedal literalism. And sometimes the literalism is not veiled at all. Consequently, Progressives often find themselves correcting notions they thought had been laid to rest in the middle of the twentieth century.

Tooley does not quote the whole paragraph of Wolsey’s disbelieving. And the last part sounds more like mainline Christianity:

“Jesus’ resurrection didn’t have to be understood as a physical one for it to be a real and meaningful one (Paul and many of the early disciples encountered a spiritually risen Christ). Science and faith aren’t incompatible. God didn’t create the Creation in 6 literal days. The earth isn’t only 6,000 years old. Human aggravated global warming isn’t bogus. God isn’t male. Women are fully equal to me. Homosexuality isn't a sin.  Being transgender isn’t sinful or to be rejected. Racism is sinful. And Christianity isn't the only way for humans to experience salvation.”

Given his perspective on the far right end of what he calls “orthodoxy,” Tooley’s critique is not surprising, and he makes his points without a great deal of rancor. At the center of his criticism of Wolsey is his rejection of what he calls “the old modernist Protestant liberalism,” which he declares to be “mostly dead.”

He correctly identifies the major problems with the old modernist liberalism as the deification of science and rationality.

But his critique of Wolsey’s progressive Christian vision has two major problems.

The first is inherent in the very idea of “orthodoxy” itself. It’s a long way from the original invitation of Jesus. The spiritual journey to which Jesus invites his followers ought not to be confined by a narrow orthodoxy. It ought to be broadly expansive and open to new ideas and insights. We should be looking for more light and more insight, not trying to find ways to limit our thinking. The Council of Chalcedon (or any other) may be a great subject for historical inquiry, and that study can certainly teach us things, but it ought not to limit our faith.

The second problem is identical with his critique of modernism.

The current rebirth of biblical literalism might seem to be the very antithesis of the modernist “deification of science and rationality,” but it isn’t. Literalism is anti-science, but it arrives at that position by treating the biblical witness as if it were its own kind of science.

Scholarship and science argue that facts matter. Literalism counters by turning faith into fact.

The majestic poetry and deep religious symbolism of the Bible are reduced to factoids. The narrative is just a list of events. The warmth that was so vital to the evangelical witness is lost in the insistence on facts.

Rooting out heterodox theology is not the path to authentic faith. Maybe we could just help each other follow Jesus and see where he leads us.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts and comments are always welcome. Please feel free to share on social media as you wish.

Note to Pastor Snowflake: I Feel Your Pain

We are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:37-39

Last week I read a commentary piece by a pastor in the United Methodist Church  who is feeling angry and burned out. 

The pastor identifies only as “Pastor Snowflake,” so we know nothing of gender or background, beyond a general impression that the writer is relatively young and new to ministry, but I could be wrong about that.

The first paragraph gives a fair indication of what is to follow:

“Being a pastor in the United Methodist Church sucks right now. And if you are reading this and the word ‘sucks’ bothers you, quit reading. It isn’t going to get better and you aren’t worthy of the point I’m going to make.”

The critique of the church and the denomination is neither surprising nor new: we are fighting over the inclusion or exclusion of folks based on their sexuality, while the world is going to hell. The congregation is apathetic and shallow. Denominational leadership doesn’t get it. Pastors are blamed for everything. 

There’s more, but you get the point.

My first response is that I hear you and my heart goes out to you. 

This morning we hosted the ordination service for the New England Annual Conference of the African Methodist Episcopal Church. 

In his ordination sermon the Rev. Dr. William Watley told the ordinands they needed to understand that if they are in ministry they are going to be wounded.

United Methodists are not alone in their struggles.

But still, this is not an easy time to be a pastor in the United Methodist Church. It’s not easy to be a pastor in an age of both increasing secularism and increasing right wing politics among so-called Christians. Adding in the unique struggles within United Methodism and it can be overwhelming.

In the immortal words of Bill Clinton, “I feel your pain.” And for more than a few decades in many ways I have lived your pain.

Pastor Snowflake (my goodness, I do not like that label!), describes what led them to the present crisis:

“Lent is what my congregation needs more than anything. They need a season focused personal reflection and repentance. Because, we are a people who’ve fucked things up and fallen short of doing good most days. I need the season of Lent because the darkside of my soul has gotten pretty cranky and mean and I need to be getting back to the heart of God. 

“So, I preached my heart out during Lent and had a few of my best sermons. At the same time, I’m leading my congregation through a visioning process to do more focused and pro-active community ministry and discipleship. . . .  I did it because I believe in God and see the Holy Spirit at work in my community. I did it because the iconoclastic befoulment from the last national election demands that the faith community get it together!”

Reading the essay, I see honesty, compassion and confession. This is written by someone who is as clear about their own faults as they are about the faults of others.

They go on from local church issues to denominational issues:

“I’m especially tired of the ridiculous argument about gay people…  and I’m calling out both liberals and conservatives here! You are all being assholes!”

It is certainly ridiculous to argue about the acceptability of our LGBTQ siblings. And it may be true that at least some of the time we are “all being assholes.” 

But there is no moral equivalence between the two sides.

Years ago, when we debated women’s issues, I can remember the oft-repeated observation that “there is pain on both sides.” But the pain of those being excluded is not the same as the pain of those who feel ill-used because they are called to account for their advocacy of exclusion.

After a lengthy list of crucial issues crying out for the attention of serious and faithful Christians, Pastor Snowflake laments, “Good men and good women trying to put life back on track for themselves and their families while the church fights a civil war over the place and worth of gay people!”

Clearly, we should not be fighting over this. “The place and worth of gay people” ought to be obvious to every human being.

But until it is obvious, we can’t give up. This is an argument that may seem minor and irrelevant to cis-gender straight folks, but it is life and death to our LGBTQ siblings.

Yes, in many ways, “Being a Pastor in the United Methodist Church Sucks Right Now.” But it is much worse for those who are excluded and told that they are “less than.” This is not where we want to be, but it is where we are. And we need to do our best to find a way forward that is faithful and just.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts and comments are always welcome. Please feel free to share on social media as you wish. 

Lent Is a Time to Reflect on What Matters Most

Jesus in the Wilderness

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. 

Luke 4:1-2

If Lent were a candidate running for President of the United States or President of the ninth grade class, it would come in last. As the pollsters say, it has really high “unfavorables.” Nobody likes Lent. Some of us pretend to like it because we think we ought to, but no one really likes it. 

The observance of Lent among Christians is complicated at best and dysfunctional at worst. In Lent we tend to confirm the worst stereotypes of Christian behavior. We focus on small and petty things. Lent does not bring out the best in Christianity.

The Gospel reading for the First Sunday in Lent is always the temptation story. We read it from different Gospels depending on the Lectionary cycle, but the story is always the same. After Jesus is baptized by John, he is led into the wilderness for a time of reflection and contemplation. It is one of those rare occasions when the accounts in Matthew, Mark and Luke are nearly identical. 

There are two places where we tend to get stuck. The first is with “the devil.” We picture a mythical creature with horns and a tale. And some of us wonder how this can be “real.” Which totally misses the point. Temptation is about what happens inside of us and this was no different for Jesus. In his commentary, legendary scholar William Barclay points out that the struggle takes place within the mind of Jesus, but this does not make it any less real. 

The second place we tend to get stuck is on the last phrase of the second verse in Luke’s account. “He was famished.” And that leads us to the widespread Lenten practice of giving up something we like for Lent. Sometimes it’s chocolate or ice cream or all desserts. If that helps us to meditate on our faith journey then it’s a good thing, but my guess is that most of the time it just makes us grumpy. And grumpy Christians don’t make a very compelling witness.

All three accounts agree on a key detail: it is the Spirit that leads Jesus into the wilderness.

Jesus needed a time of preparation, introspection and contemplation. And we need that, too. It is good, between the hurry of the Christmas and New Year’s holidays and the busyness of the spring, that we pause and reflect. It is a good time to contemplate our fears and hopes for the future, and to remember the joys and sorrows of the past. And in all of that, to ask serious questions about life and faith. What is it that really matters? What do we really care about? How will we put our ideals and our faith into action?

Listening Only to Your Heart

Martha . . . came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.

Luke 10:40-42

The story of Mary and Martha is one of the most famous in the Gospels. It is also one of the shortest. Luke tells it in just five verses. It is a little story with a big lesson; a simple encounter with far reaching implications.

Martha welcomed Jesus into her home and set about preparing the meal. Although the picture shows Mary alone with Jesus, it is more likely that she was sitting with a group of his disciples. While Martha worked, Mary sat and listened to Jesus’ teaching. In frustration, Martha interrupted the group to ask Jesus to reprimand her sister. In his answer, Jesus makes at least four points:

1)      He suggests that a simple meal will fulfill the requirements of hospitality.

2)      He approves Mary’s choice of listening to his teaching, and thereby makes clear his belief that a woman could be a disciple.

3)      By contrasting Mary’s choice with Martha’s, he questions the traditional expectation that a woman’s place is in the kitchen.

4)      And finally, he says something profound about the grace of doing nothing.

Any one of these points is worth a morning’s meditation, but as I contemplate this on another uncomfortably warm day, I want to look at the last one. I have to begin with confession, since I tend to be more Martha than Mary. I am more comfortable with doing than with being. And I can’t help pointing out that if Martha had been sitting with Mary there would have been a lot of hungry people at dinner time. It’s also worth noting that Jesus makes the very opposite point in the story that immediately precedes Mary and Martha. In Parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus concludes by telling the lawyer to “Go and do likewise.” The story of Mary and Martha is the perfect counterpoint to the story of the Good Samaritan.

Doing nothing, in the sense that we see it in the story, is not the same as wasting time. We can waste time in all sorts of ways, many of which are closely tied to the false business that Jesus questions. The nothing that Mary is doing is not wasting time. It is making space and time to receive another person. Doing nothing is the empty cup into which Jesus’ teaching is poured.

At the end of the summer, we will ask each other, “What did you do on vacation?” It is a polite question, intended to show our interest in each other’s lives. But it also tells us something about ourselves. It is a “Martha” question, because most of us tend to be more Martha than Mary.

What would it mean, “to sit at Jesus’ feet and listen to his teaching”? The answers will be as varied as our lives. Bible study is a good place to begin. But it’s only a beginning. We might find ourselves listening to flowers, friends, family, sunsets, spouses, books and music. Some of us are listening to the mountains this summer. Others are listening to the ocean. As Mary listened to Jesus, she was also listening to her heart, and hearing there the whispers of the person God was calling her to be.

The Cost of Our Unfaithfulness

Rev. Benjamin Hutchison, former Pastor of Cassopolis United Methodist Church

 “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint, dill, and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others. You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel!”
Matthew 23:23-24

In 1937, when he has deeply engaged in leading the Confessing Church in its opposition to Hitler, the great German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote a book called “Nachfolge,” which means following. After the war, the book was published in English as, “The Cost of Discipleship.” Bonhoeffer declared that, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”

By contrast, an analysis of the current experience of Christians in the United States might be called, “The Cost of Unfaithfulness.” And our unfaithfulness is costing us dearly.

Over the several decades that the church has debated the inclusion or exclusion of our LGBTQ sisters and brothers, many have decried the lack of civil discourse. In the midst of heated debate there is always someone who takes the floor to remind everyone in pious tones that there is pain and hurt on both sides of this issue.

It is, of course, a false equivalency. The pain of being excluded is not the same as the pain of feeling that the power to exclude will be taken away. No matter how hard it might be for the traditionalists to feel like they are being demeaned for their beliefs, it is not the same as actually being demeaned for who you are.

The traditionalists are not being victimized. But the whole church is paying for the conflict.

In Jesus’ colorful language, we are straining out gnats and swallowing camels and there is a price to be paid for our unfaithfulness. The cost is borne most directly and painfully by those we have excluded, but it is also borne by the church as a whole.

Someone once said that all publicity is good publicity. It isn’t. In the current debate, the “Christians” are almost always identified as those opposing equality. Christianity is identified with discrimination and bigotry.

The latest example comes to us courtesy of my beloved United Methodist Church and the treatment of a congregation and pastor in Michigan.

This past Monday night, Rev. Benjamin Hutchison was forced to resign as the pastor of the Cassopolis United Methodist Church after he admitted to his District Superintendent that he had a same sex partner.

As far as we know, Hutchison was a good pastor. In the three years that he served the Cassopolis church, he dramatically increased the membership. A parishioner said that the membership had quadrupled. And they had become financially stable.

The local church was well aware of Hutchison’s sexual orientation. Bill Loux, a member of the congregation, told a local television reporter that initially he was surprised and upset to find out that his new young pastor was gay. “At first,” said Loux, “it was kind of shocking to us, like, ‘Oh my gosh, we got some gay dude in here.’ But we immediately learned to love this guy, he’s crazy good.”

Loux went on to say, “He's just done a wonderful thing here, and for the Methodist Church to treat him this way is totally unacceptable to our church and everybody in this community.” Loux said that Hutchison’s sexual orientation was not a problem for the congregation. “Even though he's gay, he's part of our family, my family, the church family,” said Loux.

According to the United Methodist Book of Discipline, the District Superintendent and the Bishop did the right thing. They followed the rules. 

Sometime, as Jesus explained to his critics, the rules are wrong. Sometime, love and the Gospel demand something more than following the rules. 

Maybe there is something more to it. Maybe the Bishop and the District Superintendent in Michigan had some compelling and confidential reason for doing what they did. But it doesn’t look that way. 

Looking at this latest case through the lens of public opinion, it looks bad because it is bad. Sometimes faithfulness to rules means unfaithfulness to the Gospel. The traditionalists insist that there must be consequences for not following the rules. 

There are also consequences for not following the Gospel.