Satellites, I-Phones, Clay, and Us

I just got a call from a reporter for the United Methodist News Service wanting to interview me about the apparent defeat of the 23 Worldwide UMC Constitutional Amendments voted on by annual conferences. As I write this, it appears that they are going down to defeat by a 65-35% margin. As I said to the reporter, "This is a victory for connectionalism."

Connectionalism isn't just a UM hallmark. It is the way God made us. We have been created in God's image to be interconnected. American Indians have long embraced this worldview. Reciprocity in all things means that four-leggeds, two-leggeds, winged creatures, fish, and all of creation co-exists. To live is to be in perpetual connection. Sure, there are cultural differences and God must embrace diversity or there wouldn't be so many different types of creatures, colors, or clays. I say "clays" because I'm a potter - duh!

I have used clays like Standard 153, 114, locally dug and pugged earthenware, Loafer's Glory, Little Loafer's, B-Mix, a little bit of everything. I change every now and then, but I prefer the feel, bite, and color of Little Loafer's the best. Anyway, we're all clay - made from the dust. Adam literally means dirt. In our connectionalism we all belong at the table and our interdependence extends to our connection to every molecule of the planet, even the cosmos.

The 40th anniversary of humans on the moon reminds me of how Spaceship Earth is but a little slice of the heavens. Watching the stars last night in SC's lowcountry and seeing a satellite zip by was God's megaphone to me of interconnectedness. Watching fellow cabinet members during our retreat this week stay connected with the outside world through I-phones and Blackberries verified our connectedness, and the need for the satellite.

The rub, however, whether you're parenting a teenager or an aging mother, is how much to stay connected without losing individuality. How can we make room for God's gift of diversity while embracing the fact that every thing, every creature is made of the same cosmic dust? That is my challenge, our challenge - holding in tension the facts of distance and closeness without spinning apart or melting into an amalgam of enmeshment. Such is life, C'est la vie, n'est pas?

Ain't Nothin' Original 'Bout Original Sin or Adult 'Bout Adultery

The events that have rocked South Carolina with our Governor’s admission of infidelity have me pondering about sin and grace. I love the “Grace” emphasis of the United Methodist Church. We celebrate an openness that invites rather than coerces an awareness of God through Christ. However, it must be remembered that for all the grace language of our church, we are still called “Methodists” for a decidedly different reason. We’re methodical because we know that grace is not cheap. As real as grace is, so is sin. God woos us, loves us preveniently before we are even aware of His attention, is gracious toward us without reservation, and, yet, expects us to live holy methodical lives.This methodical lifestyle should never lose its graceful foundation, but our United Methodist openness threatens to undo our promotion of personal piety and social holiness.

We have become Methodist in name only because we wink at sin. The awareness of sin used to be our denominational and personal shadow. I remember thinking vividly that I might actually go to hell for calling my cousin a “fool.” My grandmother overheard me and explicitly described the fires of hell that were reserved for someone who derided anyone as a “fool.”Christians hated sin. Talk of sin was the center of religious life. We feared sin, fled from it, grieved over it. Remember the old Communion liturgy. It comes to mind quickly without any need for reference, “We bewail our manifold sins and wickedness which we from time to time have most grievously committed…” I remember the days when persons who might have lost his or her temper wondered if they could still receive Holy Communion.

A woman who for years envied or disliked her sister-in-law worried that her sins threatened her very salvation.Now we say, “You have sinned,” with a grin and a tone of voice that sounds like an inside joke is being told. No more wailing! The word “sin” now finds its home mostly on dessert menus with names like “Sydney’s Sinful Sundae” or “Lethal Brownies.” Eating fattening cholesterol-laden mounds of chocolate is sinful, but lying is not. The new measure for sin is caloric. How wrong! The new language of sin misses its sheer ugliness: “Let us confess our problem with human relational adjustment dynamics,” or “Pardon me, those were misstatements.” Corporate America has decided lying is an accounting error, but not a sin. Teachers are afraid to say to an unruly student anything as pointed as, “Stop it, please! You’re disturbing the class!” Instead, educationally correct teachers are encouraged to ask a sequence of caring questions to the youth who is hitting his neighbor, “What are you doing? Why are you doing it? How does doing this make you feel?”

It is time for Methodists to bring back an understanding of sin as much as grace. Grace doesn’t mean near as much, or maybe even anything, without a clear doctrine of sin. We hardly ever blush any more because we are oblivious to moral standards, Biblical judgment of right and wrong. It’s time to take the word “Sin” out of mothballs and call it what it is. If we don’t, we won’t know the full power of grace. Awareness of sin is grace’s subwoofer, amplifying the depth of God’s love for each of us. I, maybe, for one, need a not-so-subtle whack of good old-fashioned righteousness. It matters!

Life's Legacy Here and Now

I have been contemplating what's important in life since Sunday when I commemorated my Dad's funeral from 9 years ago. I went to Edgefield UMC and attended his Sunday School Class, and then worshipped with his church family. Later in the day I got to celebrate his contribtuions to the history of Edgefield Pottery. Anyway, it all got me to thinking: What or Who do I love? I love Jesus, my wife Cindy of 34 years, my children Narcie, Josh, and Caleb, children-in-law Mike and Karen, mother-in-law Dixie, my wife's extended family and mine, plus a number of close friends and colleagues in ministry. I really love my two grandchildren, Enoch and Evy! I also love proclaiming the Gospel. I love teaching about God and our beloved United Methodist Church. I like thinking critically about practical divinity and how we can "do" church more effectively and efficiently. I love the outdoors, Mt. Mitchell, and cruising the Blue Ridge Parkway. I wish South Carolina had a special Parkway license plate like NC does.

I love being a District Superintendent which probably sounds wierd to most. I love being with clergy and local churches on a individual and broad basis. When I was a pastor in my own appointment in a local church I didn't appreciate our connectionalism as near as much as I do now. Now I see it in action practically every day. We are a connected-to-each-other church. I love the things, the ministries, etc. that I have seen us accomplish because we're not Lone Ranger Christians. Our theme is "Together We Can do More!" As a Superintendent I see this more than I ever have before in these 3-plus decades of ministry.

There's so much on my "love list" that it will take more installments to cover pottery-making, and homemade ice cream, but, bottom-line, I love relationships that are real, genuine, and reflect Christ. That kind of relationship makes life worth living because it makes me willing to lay myself down for somebody else. That is a rare gift and I thank all those who have graced me with that level of relationship. Here's to all us on this journey called life as we discern who and what do we love. May your list light you up as much as Enoch and Evy do me!

Community & Perichoresis

Well, being in Atlanta is interesting. I asked a guy where the REGAL 24 movie theatre was located and he said he didn't have a clue. It was only 2 exits up, probably less than 2 miles. In the city one tends to know their immediate surroundings and that's it. Sounds like a lot of our churches, whether they're struggling or not. Many of the churches that I know are inbred and have a DNA imprint that doesn't allow for outreach or acceptance of new people or ideas, and then they wonder why they're not growing.

Community is how we define it. As I have been pondering theology in teaching these two classes at Emory, I am struck, by both our ecclesiology and polity, that community is a big deal to United Methodist theology and ethos. From my understanding of Wesley, we as human beings primarily reflect the image of God in a social sense. Wesley leaned toward an Eastern Orthodox understanding of the Trinity as perichoresis. What a great word in describing the Trinity. Peri means "around" and choresis is where we get our english word for "dancing." The Trinity is three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in a perpetual dance meeting us at our every point of need. If we are made in the image of this community-oriented awesome Three-One God, then we must hold hands in our living out personal piety and SOCIAL holiness.

We need to know, not just our little corner of Atlanta or rural South Carolina. We are interconnected with the whole world if we are to be truly human made in God's image. I pray that my relationships express this wonderful give-and-take of being intentionally in relationship with society, with two-leggeds and all of God's creation. We are in this thing together - Connectionalism is who we are whether we're giving directions to the REGAL 24 or to Jesus.

Personal Adventures and Family Promises

I'm at Candler School of Theology at Emory and it's going well - a new group of eager students for the two classes that I'm teaching: "Theology in the Wesleyan Spirit" and "United Methodist Discipline and Polity." The days have been interesting, getting up early for an 8 am class that goes straight through for two hours, a worship break, then 11:30am-2 pm for the last class. I miss lunch, but I have more time than ever for the afternoon and don't have to fight the snail pace of North Decatur Rd. to get back to the apartment they have me in at Emory's Clairmont campus.

I've had high hopes of working out in the fitness center, but haven't made it yet. Maybe tonight, but I have a couple of novels that are calling. I shaved my beard today. It was only a week old, hah! I went to Mt. Mitchell for a week and tent-camped, hiked, graded papers, and got ready for class, no shower and no shaving. I came straight here. This weekend is Laity Convocation at Lake Junaluska so I'll travel up Saturday morning and meet with the Cabinet then travel to Columbia to spend the night, then go to a Pottery Exhibit Opening in my hometown of Edgefield on Sunday before coming back to Atlanta to teach the final week here at Emory. I can't wait to see the new groundhog kiln they're dedicating in Edgefield. They've asked me to do the prayer because of my family's connection to the Edgefield Pottery revival.

Cindy just let me know that old friends have given us their beach place to use in a couple of weeks so that's wonderful. As much as I like the mountains, there's no place like the beach to be around Enoch and Evy. Ah...Grandchildren building sandcastles and memories. I can't wait! Well, that's enough about my itenrary. I hope you're all having a great summer. God is good!

From Glover to Governor, Dark Moon Rising

Wow, what an up and down week for the state of South Carolina. Last Monday Lucas Glover won the US Open Golf Championship. He hails from Greenville, SC (Actually, Greer) and graduated from Clemson. The TV announcers made a point of talking about his humility, being a southern gentleman, and how nobody from SC had ever won such a Major Golf Championship. He and his wife fell in love when they were both 15 and have been married for 6 or 7 years, if I remember what I heard. I do know he said he and his wife have been "soul-mates." He's a class act and a great representative of South Carolina.

Then there's Governor Mark Sanford. SC went from one of its finest hours with a favorite son in Lucas Glover to one of its most shameful in Sanford. I think Jenny Sanford is a classy lady and has acted as best she can: firm with hope, not smiling by her husband in some fakey photo-op. I hope he was in Argentina to break it off, but, from what I hear, Jenny didn't want him down there at all. What a dunce. I already thought so because of his not accepting the stimulus money in a state that needs teachers to do their jobs, and has the hghest unemployment rate in the nation. What was he thinking - oh, now we know and what with. I know we're all human and I'm surely a long way from being perfect. I also know that sanctification is a God-given grace, but we have to cooperate! When was the last time you saw somebody blush? We are headed over the precipice in slack living. We need Jesus and a heavy dose of responsibility - sounds like United Methodist theology to me - personal piety and social holiness. From Glover to the Governor, what a bummer!

Bears Up There or Lions Down Here

I left yesterday afternoon for 6 nights away, dashed to Asheville, stopped at an Ingle's and bought supplies then drove through the swirling mists of late afternoon to Mt. Mitchell - my Fortress of Solitude though I'm certainly no Superman. The rhododendrum were in perfect bloom and the temp was 30 degrees cooler than Columbia. I got to the peak at 8:45 pm, 15 minutes before closing - ready to unpack, cook some supper, and put on my reading light, crawl into my sleeping bag to read myself to sleep. But... the campground was closed.

I went back down to the ranger station and asked, "What's up!?" He said that they had several hours earlier shut down the camping area because of BEARS. Several Black Bears had ripped into an occupied tent, no injuries, and two cars - trying to get to food. Therefore, the campground is shut down for the next 9 days. I thought about heading to one of the National Forest roads 5 miles up that you can camp at, but bears could eat my Mini Cooper with too much ease. So I traveled last night up the Blue Ridge Parkway to Crabtree Meadows. I've camped and hiked there since college days. It's not as high in elevation, but the scenery is nice. One problem - it was raining cats and dogs, and I've done the put-up-the-tent- in- the- rain deal before. So, with wondering what to do in my heart I went to Spruce Pine and ate at the Burger King, hoping the weather would let up. It got worse and worse. SO... I called Cindy and said, "I'm coming home, it will be late, don't be frightened." It rained all the way home until 15 miles from Columbia. I crawled into bed a little after 2 a.m. with a weird afternoon and evening's journey under my belt. I did get to feel the 58 degree air and see the balsam and douglas firs, the swirls of clouds, and the flowers, but I'm back!

But today it's been one phone call and email after another and another about either ill or well-intentioned dragons in churches, screwy decisions, and making interpretations about the Book of Discipline. Power and control people have been sharp on my heels all day. Here is where I am right now: I rather be eaten by the bears up there than by the lions down here. What does that mean? If you have ever had to work with people, especially church people - you know. I may just pack up my car and head back up there, though it won't be the same if it's not Mt. Mitchell. I know I can still read my Bible, novels, and eat all the junk food I bought sitting comfortably on my sofa and just not go to work. But thanks to having a cell signal here and a computer, the work comes to me. On Mitchell I'm all alone except for God. So, stay tuned, the mountains are still calling and I'd rather be eaten by bears up there than by the lions down here! Ever felt that way?