True to our roots

Doctrine, spirit, and discipline.

Those are the three words Wesley used to describe what Methodists need to "hold fast" to in order to keep from becoming "a dead sect, having the form of religion without the power."

Doctrine includes the fundamental tenets of belief that define who we are as a church. Spirit indicates the attitude with which we approach our discipleship and mission. Discipline points toward our character and the seriousness with which we take our faith.

All three of these were essential to Wesley. Without them, the Methodists weren't Methodists at all. And in this strange time in the life of our church - where it is unclear whether the people called Methodists care enough to rescue their sinking ship - these three should be essential to us as well.

I write about this issue in my current column in the Reporter. It is not clear to me that the UMC has the stomach for a truly Wesleyan practice of faith. And we certainly do not live in a culture or a time that is conducive to such a practice. What do you think?

Why we need spiritual direction

Church growth strategies are based on the I wrote a column and accompanying blogpost a few weeks ago, where I described the way that the associate pastor at my church approached Lenten observance. She told us that she expected a certain practice out of us - a Friday fast - rather than giving us a buffet of choices and asking us to each select one.

In both my column and this blog, I expressed approval for her approach. By giving us a pastoral expectation, and giving it to the entire congregation, I thought she showed guts. And I thought she showed a mature understanding of the need for congregational (as well as individual) spiritual formation.

The responses I got from both the column and the blogpost were interesting. Some agreed with my point of view. But others thought that I was rejecting the need for personal discernment in favor of a sort of unthinking obedience to pastoral authority. I admit that I hadn't thought of it that way at all, although I could see where these folks were coming from.

On respondent on the Methoblog wrote:

"Wow, that's a new view for me, but I think it has some merit. While the point is powerful for those of us in the laity, it also has deep implications for those of us preparing to enter the ministry. I find it almost equally challenging to imagine myself asking my pastor what I must do to faithfully follow Christ ( and accept the answer without question) as to imagine a parishioner asking me the same question. This seems to assume that our pastors have a special knowledge and authority, rather than the model of pilgrims together on a journey which has become popular where I'm from. How does this traditional understanding ministerial authority jive with the emergent church?"

The interesting thing to me is that I wasn't trying to put forward anything like a "traditional understanding of ministerial authority" (a 'my way or the highway approach' approach, you might say). I was rather trying to suggest something along the lines of spiritual direction, which is not about towing the line, but is about viewing one's discipleship in such a way that admist the need for pastroal guidance and direction.

Another perspective will help. In Rules and Exercises of Holy Living, Jeremy Taylor writes,

"I can better be comforted by my own considerations if another hand applies them, than if I do it myself; because the word of God does not work as a natural agent, but as a divine instrument: it does not prevail by the force of deduction and artificial discoursings only, but chiefly by way of blessing in the ordinance, and in the ministry[,] of an appointed person."

Taylor was a huge influence on John Wesley, by the way (and that is Taylor's portrait at the tope of this post). And I think his instructions here are helpful. We can read the word of God on our own, but it is only fully illumnated for us when it is explained by another person. The reason for this, of course, is that our sin gets in the way of our own interpretation.

This does not at all assume that pastors have all the answers. What it does assume is that each one of us is not really qualified to make all our choices about how to pursue the path of discipleship. The reason, of course, is that we are all shot through with sin and will tend to make selfish, sinful decisions. The pastor, too, needs someone giving her dirction about her path of discipleship. Because pastors are not immne from sin and selfish choice, either.

So our very condition makes spiritual direction a need for all of us. And spiritual direction is exactly what I think my pastor was doing at the beginning of Lent. Not beating us over the head with authority, but giving us instruction and expectation for our own spiritual benefit.

How big is your church?

Church growth strategies are based on the notion that there is something redemptive about the numerical size of a congregation.

The error of church growth strategy is teleological. That is, it aims at an improper end. Church growth talks about discipleship and mission, but it puts these in the service of increasing the size of a congregation. Its logic is ground in the belief that large congregations, by virtue of their success in attracting worshipers, must be faithful churches.

I believe the church's fixation on church growth is related to our culture's fascination with megachurches. Americans are impressed by size. Ask any Texan. So when we see a Saddleback, or a Willow Creek, we think there must be something great going on there.

Don't get me wrong - I have no doubt that there is powerful ministry that happens everyday in megachurches. But their "success" causes the whole church to believe that its success is dependent on becoming the next megachurch. So we have a whole lot of pastors and congregations who spend all their time trying to increase membership, as if getting 1000 people in worship on Sunday will hasten Jesus' return.

My reading of Wesley lately has convinced me that he would be scathingly critical of church growth strategy. He was interested in bringing people into saving relationships with God, which can only happen in the context of a Christian community that is focused on disciplined participation in the means of grace. That really has nothing to do with size. It has to do with the right intention, followed by right belief and practice.

The other day I came across a quote in Wesley's "Thoughts Upon Methodism," where he distingushed between the essentials of Methodism (holiness of heart and life) and the circumstantials (the disciplined practice that nurtures such holiness).

He writes, "The essence of [Methodism] is holiness of heart and life; the circumstantials all point to this. And as long as they are joined together in the people called Methodists, no weapon formed against them shall prosper. But if even the circumstantial parts are despised, the essential will soon be lost. And if ever the essential parts should evaporate, what remains will be dung and dross."

Clearly, for Wesley the power of the Methodist approach to Christian faith is bound up in practices that allow people to experience the saving grace of Christ. That has every bit to do with the quality of a community, and nothing to do with its size.

Gen X'ers, Millennials: Take note

I want to let you know about an event that I think is crucially important for Gen X/Y leadership in the church. I write about it in my column this week in the Reporter. It is called, "The Gathering," and it is, well, a gathering for young adult leaders in the church this coming May. This is not an initiative by a particular annual conference, and it is not a top-down event put on by one of the general boards. It is truly grass-roots, in the sense that a small group of pastors got together and started a conversation about the need to get young adult leaders together in a physical space.

There has been a whole lot of good stuff that has happened online to connect us over the past few years. But we all know that virtual community has its limits. So it is that much more important for us to actually get together to worship, talk, and plan for the future.

Check out the website here for The Gathering for registration details. Tim Keel and Doug Pagitt will be speaking, which is exciting, but what is more exciting is just the possibility of getting a couple of hundred young leaders in the church together in one space.

This is not just for pastors. Laity and seminary students are encouraged to attend. For those of you outside the South Central Jurisdiction, yes, there is an airport in Fayetteville, AR, where Mount Sequoyah is located. There is an airport in Little Rock as well, which would probably have cheaper flights and is only about a 3 hr. drive from Fayetteville.

I have heard from enough of you over the past year - from California, to Texas, to Illinois - that I know there is a real desire for us to come together and claim God's future for the UMC. Here's a real place where it can begin to happen.

Are we the church??

Several days ago I wrote about the ambiguous nature of "membership" in the United Methodist Church. Membership has become an almost meaningless category, I argued, and we would do well to examine how we go about inviting members into the church and holding them accountable for the vows they make.

In response to that post, Casey, a friend and fellow student here at Duke (who is from the Free Methodist tradition, I might add), wrote the following:

"This is, of course, assuming that Methodists are 'the church.' Methodists still need to engage in a robust conversation, both internally and externally with other Christian traditions, about ecclesiology. We have a serious breach with other episcopal traditions over apostolic succession. Are we church or are we still voluntary societies? What's the difference?"

Casey raises some very important points. (They are the very points that brought me to Duke to work on a doctorate, so I guess I think they are important, at least.) We began as a renewal movement within the Church of England. If John Wesley had had his way, the British Methodists would never have separated. Wesley realized that the political reality of the new United States of America made the separation of American Methodists from the Church of England an inevitability, but that shouldn't preclude our having a serious and sustained discussion about who we are in relation to the catholic (universal) church.

Specifically, how do we justify our separation from other Christian churches?

A common (and patently wrong) reason that is given by lots of Protestants is that the unity that Christ desires for the church is spiritual rather than physical. I believe this is a cop-out answer given by people who don't want to think that the very fact of their separation from the larger church might constitute a form of sin. And besides, it is non-biblical. From Acts to Revelation, the NT treats the importance of the unity of the church as embodied (i.e., a physical and spiritual whole).

So how can the Methodists continue to justify their separation? Christ will call us to account for this, I have no doubt. And I don't think he will see "inertia" as a good enough answer.

It is a question of ecclesiology, as Casey points out. And to start, we have to ask questions on at least a couple of different levels:

1) Who are we, as a church? That is, what makes us distinct from other Christian bodies?

2) How do United Methodists justify their separation from other Methodist bodies? How do Methodists in general justify their separation from other Protestant denominations? And how do they justify separation from the Roman Catholic Church?

If you don't think these are crucially important questions, then you are not paying attention. I invite thoughts and comments, as I honestly do not know how to answer these questions.

The way of the cross leads home

Do you cross yourself?

My brother does. He's Episcopalian.

I usually do not. I'm Methodist.

I've always wondered why this is so. Did Methodists ever used to cross themselves? And if they once did, why did the practice fall out of use?

In a recent article in Christianity Today, the practice of crossing oneself was explored from an evangelical perspective. Obviously, evangelical Protestants are not widely known for making the sign of the cross as an act of piety. But the author of this article suggests that it is a practice that evangelicals should claim.

Reading the article reminded me of some passages from the 4th-century church father Athanasius. In his treatise, "On the Incarnation of the Word," he argues that making the sign of the cross conveys great spiritual power against demons. Specifically, Athanasius says that making the sign of the cross can make "demons fly, oracles cease, [and] all magic and witchcraft [can be] brought to nought." He later argues that these opponents of Christ are "put to shame by the sign of the cross."

With that degree of power, we should all re-think how and why we use the simple practice of making the sign of the cross over our chests. If such an external action can convey significant spiritual power for us and against those who would wish us ill, why don't we all do it as a matter of spiritual habit?

For the record, lately I have recently followed Athanasius' advice. I often cross myself in worship when the full Trinity is invoked ('In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit') and during the Communion liturgy ('Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord'). If nothing else, it is a reminder to me of the power of the cross for salvation - and of the power of the church when it joins together in a common witness.

A real Lenten sacrifice

Give anything up for Lent?

I did. In fact, I chose to give up several things. And not all of them will be easy to sacrifice for these 40 days.

But the hardest thing about this year's Lent is what I did not choose to give up.

At my church on the Sunday before Lent, our associate pastor told us that she expected the entire church to fast during the noon hour on Fridays, spending the time in prayer and giving the lunch money we save to the poor.

This is a reasonable sacrifice. It is one that I have (so far) been successful at keeping. What makes it remarkable is not the thing in itself, but the way it was presented to the church.

We were not asked whether we thought fasting would be an appropriate Lenten observance. Instead, we were simply told what to do.

I write about this experience in my column this week. As Americans, we worship at the altar of individual choice. We instinctively recoil at any suggestion that someone else knows better than we do the choices we should make for our lives. And perhaps the most difficult thing we can ever do is accept the command of another person with complete obedience.

For all these reasons, I think the most difficult thing for us to sacrifice is our choice. And so, in a strange way, I'm really grateful to my pastor that she told me what to give up for Lent. By expecting our obedience, she is helping us to understand what life in the Christian community is about. And she is helping us understand what discipleship is about as well, for as disciples we follow one who issues commands rather than offers suggestions.

"I am a church member"

Are you?

If so, what does that mean exactly? Are you committed to your membership in your local congregation through thick and thin? Do you confess your sins to brothers or sisters within that fellowship? Do you submit to the authority of your pastor? Do you engage in a discipleship that causes you to sacrifice your own desires in favor of service within the community?

A professor of mine at Duke is fond of saying that, in the early days, it was much easier to become a Methodist than to remain one. All one had to do to join a Methodist society was exhibit a "desire to flee from the wrath to come." But once in, that pilgrim had to show that he was walking the way of discipleship on a quarterly basis or else his name would be stricken from the rolls.

Some people today think that such a severe membership policy would be a good idea for the UMC. But we have to take into account what Wesley was kicking people out of - not the church, but a voluntary fellowship of believers who wanted to engage in a more intentional form of discipleship. For us to kick people out of the church, we are kicking them out of the church. So the case can be made that we would be hindering their access to the means of grace, whereas Wesley was not.

Of course, it is even more complicated. Because American Christianity is the land of denominations. So if a person is removed from membership in a United Methodist Church, she can always find another denomination down the street to take her in (whereas such was not the case in Wesley's England). So, to counter my above point, it is conceivable that Wesley would remove people from our church rolls with as much gusto as he did from society rolls in his own day. In either time, access to the means of grace (and hence, to salvation) is still present.

The issue of church membership has been front and center in our denomination since the incident in Virginia sometime back when a pastor refused membership to an openly homosexual man who refused to repent of his homosexual practice (and the distinction between orientation and practice is important). As I remember, the Judicial Council eventually ruled that the issue was one of pastoral authority and that it was the elder's duty to determine fitness for membership.

Now I know United Methodists are all over the map 0n the issue of homosexuality. But we should not let our differing views on that hot-button issue cloud our thinking on another very important one - that of pastoral authority and standards for church membership. Questioning whether to admit a person onto membership rolls is admittedly different than discerning whether to allow a backsliding member to remain. But both beg the question of whether church membership means anything at all. United Methodists wring their hands that we only have 8 million members in the U.S., but what difference does it make if 7 million of them care nothing about holiness of heart and life?

For the record, I do believe the elder in charge of a local church should determine fitness for membership. The church is not a place where anything goes. As a professor of mine back at Vandy used to say, "Jesus invites everyone to his table; but once you accept that invitation, you are expected to behave with the table manners of the host." That means that we must accept God's grace to be conformed to Christlikeness, repenting of our sin and walking the way of discipleship. And if a bishop, or a district superintendent, or an elder or deacon, or a lay member does not like the process of discernment that the elder in question goes through with the prospective member, then that process should be examined with prayer, holy conversation, and reference to our doctrinal standards as expressed in the Book of Discipline.

If the church was to take standards of membership seriously, we'd probably all be in trouble. But maybe feeling guilty about our lukewarm commitment to Jesus and his church is something we need to experience. And maybe we need to repent together, and start to learn what it means to live as real disciples.