The Charleston Shooting - A Disturbing Undercurrent

First and foremost, we who claim Jesus as Savior and Lord must stand in solidarity with the people of Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, SC.  Wherever the Body of Christ is in pain and grieving, the whole body of Christ is hurting.

There are so many questions an event like this raises, both from within the Body and from those observing the Body.  Is there ever going to be an end to the cancer that is racism in our land?  Are we a culture disproportionately prone to firearm violence, or is this about personal choices and behavior, apart from methods and weapons?   Are people born evil, or is venomous hatred something taught or learned?  Is a horrid occurrence like this a part of some detailed matrix of determined events, or does God really step back and allow such horrific decisions?  How do lonely and pained persons on the margins of society's attention gravitate to groups fueled by hate, and who all are responsible for that gravitation?   Should churches now become as secure as schools and government buildings, and how far should security measures go?  (Tomorrow morning I will give my last message at a church that has an awesome in-church safety team.  They approach it as a ministry, and I'm grateful for that.)   And how do family and friends of nine innocent victims find the capability to pray for and seek forgiveness for someone who ended a loved one's life?

I don't pretend to be any kind of an expert on the inquiries above, except possibly the last one.  However, there's an additional issue related to the shooting on which I'm compelled to offer comment.  It's a subtle and indirection matter, and it seems to be oozing within the ranks of Jesus-followers.  On social media and in other conversations I hear intimations that this tragic event is the reason that churches should be wary of strangers.  The hint is that this is the problem with churches that focus more on the needs of new people than they do on the needs of those already in the "fold."  It's the reason everyone in the church needs to know everyone else, some say.  The Emanuel A.M.E. shooting shows why we should look warily at "those people" who are "not like everyone else" in our churches.

I don't have enough ways to say an emphatic "NO!" to this response to the Charleston shooting.  Those who gathered last Wednesday night at Emanuel's facility welcomed Dylann Roof because that's what followers of Jesus do.  The radical hospitality (thank you, Bishop Robert Schnase) of Christ's love is our trademark.  Jesus welcomed the least, the last, and the lost; "those people" who spend their lives as the objects of suspicion.  He did that at great risk; a risk that eventually got him pinned to a cross.

Hospitality is a risk.  Claiming Jesus is a risk.  In many places throughout the globe just gathering to worship Jesus is a risk.  Why would we think anything else?!?  To the best of our knowledge all of the first group of apostles except one paid for following Jesus with their lives.  The movement has largely grown most powerfully throughout history as it is watered by the blood of martyrs.  John Wesley was thrown of the churches of his own denomination because of his passion for reaching the "lower class" of England for Jesus.   We simply must abandon this pointless North American myth that Church is all about safety and security for those who are already in.  It is, always has been, and always will be about stepping out in faith, way beyond our boundaries of comfort, trusting in God alone (no matter the outcome), on the chance of bringing one more person into the arms of God.

If I was a betting man, which I'm not (subject for another post), I'd bet my last dollar that a Bible study, a time of worship, a season of prayer, or something will happen at Emanuel A.M.E. Church in Charleston this Wednesday night.  And I'll bet if a stranger shows up, that stranger will be welcomed. Because they're followers of Jesus.  It's a risk worth taking.  It's what we do.

I'll see you around the next bend in the river.

A Message for Delegates to the 2015 Missouri Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church

This post is specific to those who will be representing United Methodism at the 2015 session of the Missouri Annual Conference in Springfield, June 5-8.  The upcoming conference promises to be another powerful experience in our common mission of making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.  One issue might occupy a fair amount of our time and attention this year - The decision of our conference's Board of Camping and Retreat Ministries to move away from permanent site church camping to a more mobile and adaptive form of disciple-making through camps and retreats.

This has sparked a great deal of reaction and discussion, as one would expect.  Missouri United Methodism has owned camp and retreat facilities for decades.  Many past and current followers of Jesus met Christ at these facilities.  People grew as disciples and embraced a variety of calls to ministry through camps and events held in such places.  To step into a new and different frontier in this type of ministry is a massive shift.  In the last several months, many UM Missourians have offered numerous thoughts and insights from a variety of perspectives in and around this matter.  For what it's worth, here are some things that keep rolling around my mind and heart.   Ultimately, I don't think this issue is really about camps and sites.  I believe it is about transition.  How do we preserve what matters as the future envelopes us?  It is also about identity.  Who and what are we now as a Conference?  And, depending on who and what we are, how do we make major ministry decisions?  Finally, it is about focus and energy.  How does this or any issue rank missionally, and, from a missional standpoint, how much time and effort should it get?

One of the most impacting and pivotal moments in my discipleship and ministry took place in 1977 at a place near Arcadia, Missouri called "Epworth Among the Hills."  I was about to enter my last year in seminary, and I attended the annual United Methodist Men's Retreat.  Hundreds of men were there to worship, learn, pray, and to have some fun.  Our featured speaker was an explosively fun story-teller and mission leader from Texas named Glenn "Tex" Evans.  It was a life-changing event for me.  United Methodism has long since let go of Epworth Among the Hills.  The men's retreats there ended many years ago.   Those decisions took place without my input.   Yet that doesn't change the power that place and those events had in forming my walk with Jesus.  Men's ministry has morphed into something that bears no resemblance to what Arcadia looked like in August of 1977.  Even so, what's happening now in many ways was birthed out of what happened then.  William Bridges says,"It's a paradox:  To achieve continuity we have to be willing to change.  Change is, in fact, the only way to protect whatever exists."  I think that's where we are on the camping matter.  It's a time of necessary transition.  We've had them before, and we'll have them again.   The continuance of something important means transitions.  The core purpose remains the same, while the methods shift.

Some feel that the Camping Board did the right thing.  Others feel it was the wrong step, and perhaps even a violation of proper process or principles.  I suggest the the evaluation of the action depends on who and what we are as a conference now.   Are we more of a representative democracy, wherein no action is taken without the rule of the majority of representatives?  Or are we more like a movement or an army, in which command intent is clear, and the various components are empowered and expected to act in accordance with that command intent?  Did we want the Camping Board to be more of a fact-finding group, to bring some kind of a report back for the corporate body's consideration?  Or did we entrust and empower them to carry the conference's mission into their area of responsibility and to make decisions accordingly?  In the last decade and a half we have aligned ourselves more around the Great Commission and the Great Commandment than I have ever seen in nearly four decades of ministry.   We have decided that all which we do will be measured by our disciple-making mission.  We have promoted structures and procedures to allow this central emphasis.  We did this seeking to minimize meetings and internal maintenance, and to maximize leadership, agile decisions, and ministry outside the walls of churches.   I believe we are a different conference than we were two decades ago.  If we in fact are different, then decision making, authorizing, and dispatching will be different as well.  It's good that we'll have discussion around the Camping Board decision.  Our new identity will need testing to become as strong as it needs to be.  However, it's not really about camping alone.  It's about our missional identity.

Finally, I'm always conscious of how we spend time and energy.  This is because I'm aware that people outside of our tribe who are watching us are aware of how we spend time and energy.  Where we focus will say more about us than any words we offer.  What would an outside observer say about the 2015 session of the Missouri Conference of the United Methodist Church by noon on June 8?  Would that person say, "Well, all I can remember is that they had long and lively debate over what should be done or should have been done with some pieces of camp property."  Or would that person say that we praised God with passionate abandon, no matter where we stood on the camps issue?  Would that individual have vivid memory of how loudly we celebrated the people who have met Jesus since we last met, and how loudly we lamented where we failed to bring people into his arms?
Would it be apparent how diligent and resolute we were to grow our own discipleship and learn how to better help others to do so?  Would that person see United Methodists straining at the bit to get our hands dirty in our mission fields?  Would generosity at a near reckless scale be evident to a stranger?  
It's not that the conversation about camps isn't important.  But it had better stay in perspective.  More than we realize, and unreached world is watching.

That's enough on this subject from me.  I pray that I keep an open mind and heart on this matter, and I pray that you do the same.  No matter how it turns out, I'm eager for our 2015 session.  I'll see you around the next bend in the river.