Annual Conference

Annual Conference is upon us and I hope we have part revival, part business, and all holy conferencing. I love Annual Conference! Now, of course, there are moments when things get tedious at best, and I'm on a short leash by being parliamentarian. As age progresses the restroom breaks become very much anticipated! I've thought about wearing sunglasses this year because the glare from the stage lights creates a haze after a day or so. I bet many people think the same thing about the glare off of my bald head.

This is an important conference for me. My middle child, Josh, is going to be commissioned Sunday night. That's an incredible milestone on his way to ordination. He's exhibiting such marvelous gifts for ministry at Bethel in Rock Hill. He and his wife Karen are a blessing in so many ways!

This conference is also important because of the Constitutional Amendments that we will be voting on on Monday. If you know me well, my passion with these surrounds the 23 worldwide UMC amendments. If they are passed we could see connectionalism go down the drain, and a regionalistic diocesan polity take over. Wesley's words, "The world is my parish!" would be changed to "my neighborhood." Sure, our neighborhood is our parish, but if we are to truly be global Christians, we cannot fragment who we are into regions that dispose of our unity.

I hope I don't have to speak on this issue because parliamentarians are supposed to be impartial and not speak, or even vote by voice or show of hand. Nevertheless, this issue is too important to not speak. We'll see. This isn't about conservative or liberal - it's about our ecclesiology; i.e., Connectionalism. I look forward to seeing how it all shakes out.

My favorite thing about Annual Conference is renewal of relationships. When one gives their life tothe ministry their church membership is literally transferred to the Annual Conference. It is my local church, and I love the fellowship with laity and clergy as we get to see each other, sing, hear good preaching, and make those all-important decisions that will shape our life together for years to come. See you Sunday!

Friends Are Forever

A week ago today I helped do the funeral service for my mentor and dear friend Delos Corderman. Today is Ascension Day and I have Corderman on my mind, and his family: Evelyn, Amy, Laura, Greg, Bill, and the "Prince" - Delos' grandson, Nicholas. Delos gave so much of himself to this Annual Conference as our Conference Secretary and as Pension/Credit Union/Benefits Officer. He was sometimes hard to understand because he was so smart, but the thing that always rang clear was his love for Christ and his love in helping people. He had his "Hit" list of lazy preachers but even with them he was always fair. His humor was ribald and mostly unrepeatable, but always unforgettable. We will miss him. I believe in the Communion of Saints. The Church Triumphant in heaven and the Church Militant on earth have a mysterious but very real co-mingling that inspires, encourages, and lives forever. Corderman's influence will be a continual gauge for my actions, and I hope that I make him proud. South Carolina has lost a hero.

When I think about Delos as a mentor and the tie that binds across eternity in the Communion of Saints, I'm remined this morning of one of his stories:

Two men, walking through the woods, come across a big deep hole.
"Wow . . . that looks deep," says one.
"Sure does," says the other. "Toss a few pebbles in there and see how deep it is."
They pick up a few pebbles and throw them in and wait . . . no noise.
"Hey, that is REALLY deep," says the first man. "Here, throw one of these great big rocks down there. That should make a noise."
They pick up a couple of football-sized rocks and toss them into the hole and wait . . . and wait. Nothing. They look at each other in amazement.
One gets a determined look on his face and says, "Hey . . . over here in the weeds, there's a railroad tie. Help me carry it over here. When we toss THAT in, it's GOTTA make some noise."
The two drag the heavy tie over to the hole and heave it in. Not a sound comes from the hole. Suddenly, out of the nearby woods, a goat appears, running like the wind. It rushes toward the two men, then right past them, running as fast as its legs will carry it. Suddenly it leaps in the air and into the hole. The two men are astonished with what they've just seen.
Then, out of the woods comes a farmer who spots the men and ambles over. "Hey . . . you two guys seen my goat out here?"
One of the men says, "You bet we did! Craziest thing I ever seen. It came running like crazy and just jumped into this hole!"
"Nah," says the farmer, "That couldn't have been MY goat. My goat was chained to a railroad tie."

Who or what are we tied to? I want to be tied to great men like Delos Corderman, not someone who pulls me down, but lifts me up; tied to Jesus who always ascends to defend us and sends His helpers like Delos to do the same.

Mother is Forever!

I miss my mother. There’s no simpler statement and there’s none more fraught with emotion. My brothers and I were blessed to have a wonderful mother. She was a tomboy at heart and didn’t mind getting dirty. Mother had the best laugh and she was terrific at crafts. She put together the most imaginative things! She didn’t take herself so seriously. She loved other people. She was a spitfire at times. She worked hard whether it was in the garden, at my grandfather’s country store, or in the house. She was a lady, too. I remember her many hats that she decorated. She wasn’t plain, but she certainly wasn’t showy. She was a sublime mixture of outgoing charm and quiet dignity.

Yes, we miss her. The odd thing that I’ve been remembering lately is the graceful subtle way she always said, “Certainly,” whenever someone had the occasion of saying, “Excuse me.” In the sweet humility of her alto voice, her simple use of “Certainly” as a response to one of her children’s or anyone else’s faux pas was pure grace. She was so forgiving and understanding. Memories of mother flood my mind and I feel like Forrest Gump all awash in matriarchal adulation. If you remember the movie, you have to remember Forrest’s mother.

We all have stories to tell about either our mothers or those who mothered us. One day isn’t enough thanks either. In our festival-oriented society egg salad gets a whole week, as do pickled peppers, split pea soup, clowns, carpenter ants, and aardvarks. Peanut butter (March), chickens (September), and oatmeal (January) each rate a whole month. How can we do less for mothers? Impossible!

So let’s dedicate ourselves to the highest ideals of motherhood for longer than a day and more than National Family Week. Let’s solemnly promise to put our faith to the test in a way that even the motto WWJD can’t touch. Asking, “What would Jesus do?” is great to be sure. But, right now I think that it would help my Christianity more if I simply asked, “What would Mother do? What would Mother say? What would Mother think?” I don’t think Jesus would mind a bit. He’s been using mothers as His best allies ever since ever since.

So let’s give our mothers and the world the best present that we can this Mother’s Day. Let’s actually try to think and act like mothers. Let’s never forget to value our mothers because they are irreplaceable. On behalf of my brothers, Carlee and Ralph, we salute our Mother, Sadie Emma Jackson McClendon, our beloved mother, 1917-1993, until eternity.

Stuck in Life's Cracks

Well, Life does have its moments, doesn't it? It's a Monday morning and the week is backed up every day with appointments, meetings, letter-writing, conflict management and so much more. Every day the tyranny of the urgent is sudden, overwhelming, unexpected.

I feel like one of the disciples scared, apprehensive, and panicky on the boat with Jesus during the storm on the Sea of Galilee. I want Him on deck to rebuke the wind and the waves and say those all important words, "Peace, Be still!" I know in my head that Jesus is with me through life's unexpected storms, but it's my heart that is unsettled. The 18-inch connection between head and heart needs reconnecting this morning. I've had my devotional and prayed, but, nevertheless, sense a antsy anticipation of "What next!?" I know that it will be something, out of nowhere, and my --- will be stuck in a tree, in a crack. Help me, Jesus, get loose and walk by faith and not by sight, to trust you when stuff happens - even as I wrote the first part of this sentence, my cell phone rang with something unexpected and before I could even finish this, my office phone rang with another crisis - such is life.

Yes, such is life stuck in the cracks, but the good news for me and you today is that Jesus has been in the crack, too, then broke free and will break us free. No matter what happens today, Jesus is on our side and will deliver us. He pulls us through - may it be so. Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.