Diary of a Delegate: rebuttal – Some More Equal than Others

I received a comment on my last post (and have received several mentions on Twitter) decrying my efforts with my colleagues as overly political, pushing an agenda, and even Machiavellian or Orwellian. My commenter wrote: “The only totalitarianism is the ‘progressive’ caucus forcing their will on the rest of the church. Disgraceful.”

Let me be clear: this was indeed a wild, crazy, political, how-the-sausage-gets-made, messy jumble. But if you’re looking for the “some are more equal than others” agenda, you are barking up the wrong side of the barn, my friends.

Make no mistake: the progressives were not the only ones caucusing, strategizing, and trying to make sure their “agenda” made it to the floor. We were not the only ones who huddled at the 4:15 break or the dinner hour. We were not the only ones who had been working for ten days to try to mold the United Methodist Church into the vision to which we believe God has called it.

We may be the only ones willing to blog about it, however.

I will not accuse my colleagues from differing theological perspectives of nasty politics. I will say however, that they had meetings out on the floor and behind closed doors. They were organized. They had powerful people and blocks of voters on their sides. They were, for nine and a half days, unstoppable. Their agenda– an agenda of silencing dissent, whitewashing minority voices, consolidating oversight (which we have learned is patently unconstitutional) and solidifying power in conservative demographics– was very clear and very much in force.

Let me share with you my agenda, particularly in the final evening, but really throughout the General Conference. I can only speak for myself, but I believe it was and is shared by many:

1. Provide for the ministries of the United Methodist Church to function well for the next 4 years. This includes equipping the general boards and agencies or whatever their successor bodies are with the resources and people they need to continue to be a vital voice and resource for our church.

2. Protect the voices of women, persons of color, the GLBTQ community (such voice as it has), and any others pushed to the margins. This includes advocating for a strong and thriving GCORR and COSROW.

3. Propose legislation that does no harm or mitigates harm. Oppose and try to prevent legislation that does harm.

4. Maintain a space in the United Methodist Church for social justice and prophetic preaching.

5. Whenever and however possible, cultivate space for all voices in the conversations, so that people are engaged in the process and the shaping of the future of their church. This includes a commitment to transparency and the honesty with which I blog about our process.

6. Stay within the proposed, smaller quadrennial budget, so as not to harm local churches in their ability to do ministry. Because…

7. In all things, remember that what GC does and how the UMC is formed matters only in so far as it equips local churches for the vital, transformational, contextual ministry they do. We have to help and not hinder churches in reaching more and more diverse people, lifting up principled and equipped leaders, being in ministry across socioeconomic, political, ethnic, gender, etc divides, and reaching out in mission to meet the needs of our global family. Or, you know, make and nurture disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the church and the world.

Diary of a Delegate: She Moves in Mysterious Ways

(continued from previous post)

The progressive ad hoc caucus huddles at the communion table. I’m in black, just in front of the person in yellow (picture from afar by Laura Young)

When Judicial Ruling 1210 was handed down at about 4:15 pm on Friday (with the General Conference scheduled to recess at 5 and then return for a two-hour legislative session before adjournment), creative chaos ensued. One of my fellow Church and Society B committee members called for a five minute recess, and a flock of progressives (it’s like a pod of whales) surrounded the communion table. One thing was clear: we had very little time to get a structure in place that would let the church function within the budget that had already been passed, eliminate inconsistencies, and keep any form of the constitutionally unsalvageable and now defunct Plan UMC from resurfacing.

After the five minute recess, the secretary announced that we would recess early for dinner, returning at 7:30, so that the calendar and agenda committee, the Council of Bishops, and other groups could figure out what needed to happen to conclude enough business that the church could move forward.

That’s when we went to work.

Our unofficial caucus group met in a large room. We did not bar the door; all were welcome. We knew other meetings were taking place, and we tried to have conversation with folks that weren’t in the room. We tried to invite representatives from all over the world, although only one international delegation ended up joining us.

Everyone spoke who wanted to. We hashed our possibilities: we couldn’t come up with a constitutionally sound plan to reorder the structure of our global denomination in two hours; there really wasn’t a way to resurrect Plan UMC and amend it into something that we could find palatable (including reinstating COSROW and GCORR); we didn’t want to simply refer Plan UMC because it had already been ruled unconstitutional and would eat up massive resources for study and amendment of a plan that we felt was fundamentally flawed (and we suspected this is what the group supporting Plan UMC would do). This left us with two options: revert to the 2008 denominational structure and somehow try to make it work in the reduced budget that had already passed, or approve the plans that the boards and agencies themselves had made to streamline and come into harmony with the initial findings of the Call to Action reports, and then save further restructure for the four years ahead. By consensus, the group decided this last was the best option.

To make that happen, several legislative things had to happen in very quick succession. The body had already approved a handful of legislation that allowed for some boards to function properly, but now had to bring up, bundle together, and approve several more pieces of legislation from the boards and agencies to enable the rest of them to have streamlined functioning, and then reconcile a few pieces that had inconsistencies.

The larger group disbanded and about ten of us wrote out the plan. I had been taking notes and began typing out an order of approach and talking points. We had an hour.

We wrote the motions for bringing up the legislation and the talking points for why it was important to do it this way: approval of the boards/agencies own plans for independent restructure allows for immediate streamlining while maintaining the functions of each body to do ministries, and leading the denomination into the necessary adaptive change that can take us through the next quadrennium with clear and thoughtful focus rather than hurried scrambling.

We anticipated that there would be a motion to bring up and refer Plan UMC. We strongly objected to this option and wrote talking points anticipating this motion: Referral would delay the option to lighten the burden on local churches because it would continue the structure at the current costs. Further, it would divert the attention, resources and energy of our boards, agencies, and governing bodies from their vital work. Basically, we could hash and study Plan UMC for four years at tremendous cost, or we could get busy making and nurturing disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.

We were assured by the committee on calendar and agenda that they agreed, and that the first motion brought to the body would be a motion to consider the plans of the boards and agencies for their own restructure. We were assured this as late as 7:15, when Brad Laurvick took my laptop from my sweaty hands and ran to print and copy our motions and talking points.

Curiously, for whatever reason, that is not how it went down.

When the session reconvened at 7:30, there were people *on the stage and at the podium* who brought a motion to refer Plan UMC. I’d like to think this was a miscommunication. It felt like more than that, but we were deep in politics at that point, so I’m going to err on the side of grace and say we must have had some wires crossed.

Undeterred, our folks jumped down in the talking points and argued against referral of Plan UMC on the basis of its unconstitutionality and the numerous points that we had lifted. And we ran down the clock debating, asking questions, amending and amending. The plan was flawed and unconstitutional. It didn’t in actuality even exist as it had been struck down entirely. It could not be referred. I myself made an amendment that I thought might have helped me feel better about it: that the resulting plan be released prior to all Annual Conferences in 2015, so that those bodies would have time to look at the plan, study it, and offer amendment and suggestion. I felt this would address one of the central problems with the entire process: the lack of grassroots voices and engagement in the future of our church.

Eddie Fox (black shirt, khaki pants) huddles with others during the final recess, just before he would come and caution me against further motions. Mr. Fox later contacted me to add that this was a prayerful gathering, and many of those in the circle are bishops from the UMC worldwide.

But finally it was clear that Plan UMC could not be referred or even dealt with. The presiding bishop was forced to rule that indeed a delegate from the Western Jurisdiction was right: it was unsalvageable and the attempt to refer legislation that didn’t exist was out of order.

We got to the mics. We made our motions. We approved the plans of the boards and agencies and reconciled the inconsistencies. We recessed.

Just before reconvening, I was approached by an older delegate with whom I’d served on committee, and with whom I had frequently—okay always—disagreed, Eddie Fox. Eddie is a man who I’m told had previously seemed to pride himself on using the parliamentary process to advance legislation he supports and kill legislation he does not. He was not in a good mood. Smiling but appearing pretty miffed, he wagged a finger in my face and said something like, Now young lady, I don’t want to see you making any more amendments or speeches tonight. “Why Eddie,” I said, “I want to ensure that we approve the best plan for the future of our church, and that takes time and work, and room for the Holy Spirit. And She moves in mysterious ways.” Smiling tightly and pumping my hand, he wished me safe travels and said he’d enjoyed sharing this wild ride with me (Mr. Fox contacted me in writing, and does not share this recollection of our conversation or of his demeanor or actions. As with all things published on my blog, this is my perception of what I experienced).

We reconvened, heard announcements, and suffered one last attempt to pull a petition to the floor that would have tried to make the UMC withdraw from the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice. I scrambled for my speech, but the motion not only failed to receive the 2/3 that it needed, but it didn’t even win a majority.

Joey Lopez, who had been an outspoken voice for inclusion, especially of young people’s voices, had the honor of making a motion to adjourn.

The Coalition worships in the tabernacle after GC closes, drawing the circle wide.

The Coalition met in the tabernacle one last time for communion, prayer, and celebration. Of next General Conference, one leaders said “In Portland [Oregon], we’re going to need a bigger tent!”

Then out to celebrate together with dancing and refreshments. We made a good choice of an establishment, since they were playing Heather Small’s “Proud” (what have you done today to make you feel proud? oh, so so much!) and later some Lady Gaga, and because the delightful human being behind the bar asked to see my ID. Once again, there seems to be a fear that people under the age of 21 are into buying top shelf scotch. I think we need to refer that to a committee for study. I tweeted: “Best. Day. Ever. Defeat totalitarianism. Protect uteri. Outfox Fox. Get carded in bar. #Winning.”

We celebrated together late into the night, side by side with people I have named as heroes and role models and Methodist celebrities, and with friends I didn’t know or barely knew two weeks ago.The outcome felt miraculous. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was. We’d done everything we could, but I honestly believe the Spirit pulled us through. I was just along for the ride.

Later, I summed up what I felt was accomplished to a group of friends via text message:

1. Ministry with families of all configurations
2. Almost exactly what the General Board of Church and Society (hey it still exists!) wanted to say about abortion
3. Kept the UMC in the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice
4. Avoided a totalitarian power structure
5. Provided basic structure for the church and its agencies to stay in mission
6. Held the line– didn’t get any worse!– on incompatibility and sexuality in the face of the most conservative General Conference ever
7. Met an amazing group of lay and clergy ministers who believe in grace, justice, and a contextually authentic church

What happens next? Where do we go from here? What does God have in store for the United Methodist Church?

I have some thoughts in the weeks ahead, but the door is wide open. It’s up to the wily Spirit, and up to us to follow where She leads us.

Diary of a Delegate: And on the Tenth Day, the Spirit Arrived.

Friends, you heard my pain, frustration, brokenness and even some anger in my last post. The people I care about and the issues and petitions that mattered to us took terrible hits over the first nine and a half days of General Conference. Yes, we failed to change the UMC’s policy on homosexuality being incompatible with Christian teaching, but there was so much more. We’d voted on God’s grace. We’d chipped away at Methodism at its very heart.

twitter cloud from @andrewconard

The last day of General Conference 2012 found me very discouraged.

We had already approved Plan UMC, which was a hastily reworked version of the Call to Action IOT restructure plan and the Plan B restructure plan (but not the MFSA version of the plan), all of which sought to increase efficiency and reduce cost for the denomination by consolidating the boards and agencies. But it did so in a plan that was put together in way that was non representational and left voices disenfranchised, and it would keep on doing that.

In part, the plan that was passed was so nasty in my opinion because it consolidated representative power for the more conservative parts of our country and our globe—and they really weren’t needing any help! It also eliminated all of the Boards and Agencies of our church, including some of my favorite parts of the church—the General Board of Church and Society, the General Board of Global Ministries, the General Board of Discipleship, merging different actions of them into one board. It eliminated the General Commission on the Status and Role of Women (COSROW) and the General Commission on Religion and Race (GCORR), two independent bodies that monitor our denomination for fairness and inclusiveness, and separately work for the needs of the people they represent. This plan merged them into a less powerful Committee on Inclusiveness, making them report to the very groups they would be trying to monitor rather than serve as independent auditors and advocates.

We’d tried two Hail Mary passes to undo the damage of Plan UMC: I had asked to wait on a final vote until we heard back the financial implications—this was supposed to be something to save us money, but I doubted it made a difference—and we had asked for Judicial Council to decide if the Plan could be implemented with a simple majority, or if such elimination of aspects of the work of our church were in fact unconstitutional.

In the mean time, we tried to fix the elimination of COSROW and GCORR and move to restore the two commissions in a lively and ultimately fruitless debate that left several of my fellow delegates in tears of frustration and anger and grief. Women, persons of color, and particularly women of color (who better than anyone understand that the effects of racism and the effects of sexism are not the same) felt entirely silenced.

By that point the church, in my mind, was dead.

We were passing through budget legislation piece by piece, and I had actually begun to simply vote no on everything. It was the only voice I had left. I was in a spirit of negativity, and I felt like nothing we decided mattered. My full intention was to go home and figure out how to get myself and my family out of the United Methodist Church as soon as possible. If I could take my church, my Annual Conference, or my entire Jurisdiction with me, so much the better. If not, it didn’t matter. This was no longer my church.

We’d voted that God’s love was extended to all by a 3% margin. We’d stepped away from our historic commitments to social justice. We’d eliminated guaranteed appointment without allowing debate. We’d silenced and marginalized the voices of women, people of color, GLBTQ persons and their allies, young people, clergy who differ theologically from the majority view in their conferences, clergy nearing retirement age, and pretty much anyone I could think of who wasn’t a middle to older age Caucasian male moderate or conservative. We had a vote coming up to alter our “quadrilateral,” radically changing the way we view the bible and all but eliminating the important dialog we hold with our tradition, reason, and experience when we interpret and apply scripture. Remember when I blogged about the reasons I wanted to remain Methodist? We’d chipped away at all of them.

We had a little victory that a lot of people didn’t recognize: the body voted to change the statement that the church was in ministry to help people in their marriages and families to say that we are in ministry with all people who are single, and in families in their various configurations. This had largely to do with how Rev. Brad Laurvick, who is now one of my favorite people on the planet, and someone with whom I am so blessed to be in ministry, framed the conversation, highlighting the importance of single persons, and family units comprised of grandparents, adoptive parents, and so on, never once mentioning family configurations that feature gay or lesbian couples. It was as if we had to trick people into being loving and grace-filled. When Brad got off the stage, I planted the world’s happiest kiss on his cheek.

Other than that, it was time to submit to the fact that the worst had happened and would continue to happen for the rest of the night. It was over. We’d been outnumbered and outgunned. We were going to lose everything. And I could hardly muster the energy to care.

At about 4:15, the Judicial Council ruling on Plan UMC came down, and in many ways, the history of the United Methodist Church changed forever. I don’t think that’s an exaggeration. At least, it’s definitely what it felt like at the time. Hmm. Nope. Still feels that way.

The Judicial Council of the United Methodist Church ruled that Plan UMC was unconstitutional on at least four grounds, having to do with the distribution of power and oversight. The scathing ruling, which you can read here, stated that the Plan (and by extension the others from which it was drawn) was irreconcilably flawed and could not be salvaged into something constitutional. It was therefore struck down.

The room burst into murmurs, and a request for a recess was called. Groups hurried to huddle and try to get their heads around what this might mean. A large group of progressive delegates from various committees, but all of whom had worked tirelessly against Plan UMC, descended upon the communion table in the center of the room, where many of us had demonstrated a little over 24 hours earlier. What now? How would boards and agencies, suddenly reinstated, function? How many pieces of previously passed legislation were now in conflict? What were the most important pieces to pass now to restore some order?

The Holy Spirit had arrived in all Her glorious wily beauty.

Chaos reigned.

But we all know how the Holy Spirit sees the opening of Chaos.

Creative possibility.

(to be continued)

Diary of a Delegate: Link Dump

Here’s some stuff to read and listen to and share.

Twitter and Guaranteed Appointment” radio interview (Laura Allen, United Methodist News Service)

United Methodist Bishops Must Take Action Against Protesters” (Rick Silva, Boston Observer)

General Conference main site with lots of pictures and video and information (umc.org)

Legislation I literally wrote (as the recording secretary of the subcommittee), updating p. 161J- Abortion in the Book of Discipline (legislation tracker, umc.org)

I’m in the airport waiting for my flight. Long blog post in the works about last night and the moment that will be mentioned in UMC polity classes for years to come.

And then many many posts in the weeks and months ahead about building a team and an open forum, and what we do next. The adventure has only just begun.

Diary of a Delegate: Yeah, so that happened

JoAnn, Annie, and I share communion in the midst of the Body’s brokenness. Photo from the UMNS.

Earlier this week I tweeted: just because it’s expected doesn’t make it hurt any less.

We– whoever “we” are– did not expect to win any ground on the church’s position about homosexuality this quadrennium. But I’m a believer in the resurrection promise. That sometimes means that I every so often and ever so naively hold on to hope.

I was hopeful because Revs. Adam Hamilton and Mike Slaughter had come to the place where they could not only support but speak for, advocate for, even write, legislation that simply said our church could not agree about sexuality. I was hopeful because I had heard delegates from Africa say that, while they could never vote for full inclusivity for persons who are GLBTQ, they did not want to stand in the way of us doing ministry with all people in the United States.

Like I said. I can be overly optimistic sometimes.

It didn’t happen that way.

And when it didn’t happen that way, when the body rejected first Adam’s petition (by about 53/47%) and then an amendment to the Global Young People’s petition (53/47), and then debated with hateful words, equating loving and faithful same gender relationships with illness, perversion, and bestiality with only mild rebuke from the chair, and then defeated all changes by over 60/40%, when that happened, we did the only thing we could do.

Lifting the bread and cup. Photo from UMNS

We set the communion table in the center of the room. We welcomed the visitors and supporters from outside the voting bar and delegates from the floor. We blessed bread and cup. I was the elder closest to the bread, and I lifted it in the air, breaking it as we are broken. I looked across the table and through my tears I saw my new friend and fellow laborer for justice, Gregory Gross, holding the cup.

We sent servers with (gluten free) wafers and cups of juice to serve those around the room. Some bystanders received communion with from those with whom they disagree, and some refused. I served those around me, offering them the Body of Christ as we all wept.

We stayed at the table when the session attempted to reconvene. Unable to get the delegates back to their seats and the visitors off the floor– indeed unable to even to get people to stop singing, the Bishop had no choice but to call for an early lunch.

Lifting the broken Body of Christ, tears in my eyes. Photo by UMNS

I later tweeted- Becca Clark@pastorbecca: You cannot legislate love. Grace is never out of order. The communion table has no bar. #GC12love #gc2012 #nowalls

We were told that the police were called. They never came.

For the next three hours we sat, stood, prayed, sang (okay, I didn’t), and waited. I stayed on the floor, without any intent of getting arrested, but with the full intent of protecting my friends as a human shield if need be, and with the intent that if one or two particular friends were arrested, they would not be going anywhere without me. We also had conversation with the bishops and it was decided that no further votes on human sexuality would be taken that day, in an effort to do no harm. Hey! Protest making legislative change! Awesome.

An agreement reached to shuffle human sexuality legislation to the end of the calendar and hopefully therefore do no further harm, the protestors took our seats on and off the floor, and legislation resumed. The topic was pension; an important topic, but I couldn’t focus. I called in a reserve and left the floor intending to return, but ended up seeking food and drink and long, healing conversation with a friend, and going to sleep.

Steve and Leigh Dry do the only thing one can do in the face of such brokenness. Photo by UMNS

I’m actually in an okay place about the vote on this legislation. We didn’t really expect improvement on the church’s policy here. I felt good that the response in protest was an act of love and faith rather than anger coming from the deep pain we all felt.

What is so discouraging to me is that this vote was only a symptom of the entire General Conference’s pattern, moving away from the Wesleyan principles of prevenient grace, social holiness, and commitment to hearing and honoring the voices on the margin. We are becoming more totalitarian, more Calvinist in our theology, and more exclusive of voices and people who disagree from the majority– a majority that has been using its power to assure that they will have a super-majority in four years.

That will be the subject of many a blog post to come.

Today, we wrap up business, and then Saturday I will return home to my family and to rest. Monday morning, we live into a new quadrennium, and begin building a new church.

We have built strong coalitions and allies here, people who can come together across the continent and the world, across theological and sociopolitical divides, united in our love of Christ and the Wesleyan heritage of the UMC. I told you I’m naive, but I have hope once more.

Becca Clark@pastorbecca: Also, let the record show that @RevAdamHamilton & I hugged it out. He’s a man of integrity, & was bold to try for inclusion today. #gc2012

This is the day

This is the day that the Holy One has made.

This is the day that we vote about homosexuality again, and grace again, and fear and violence again, and learn what will prevail in the eyes of the broken church.

But it’s just a day. Tomorrow is another. We are the church. Broken, limping, maimed.


Every warm thought, every loving whisper, every prayer in whatever way you pray, may you lift it for the people called Methodist.

And for me.

Diary of a Delegate: Dude, where’s my church?

Twitter topic cloud from @andrewconard

Sisters and brothers, I don’t even know what day it is.

I think about 3 days of legislation have passed since last I posted. They weren’t good days for me and the people I care about. It seems that progressives make up about 40% of the voting body on just about anything. Other people have been reporting votes and issues. I’ve titled this a diary because it’s really about the experience.

The experience has sucked.

I’ve been exhausted, discouraged, and wrung out dry. We’ve lost votes on everything so far– actually not true.

Let me share my one victory: my subcommittee’s paragraph on abortion, which is an improvement over the current Book of Discipline, and which we hashed out in a respectful, holy way, passed the full body without incident. As the recording secretary for that subcommittee, I have officially written a section of the Book of Discipline.

The rest is a mess. A day ago, clergy lost guaranteed appointment, a policy that has provided for and protected the fair appointment of clergy without respect to gender or ethnicity or theological stance, but has also, it can be argued, prevented cabinets from removing ineffective clergy. The result was not actually the tough part– what was worse was that there was a glitch and then an attempt to correct the glitch. The full body would have to vote to even allow discussion on this very important matter for clergy and churches. They did not. So lots of people lost their job security if not yet their jobs, and their pastor’s confidence in her or his prophetic voice if not their pastor, without even a blink.

Today it’s been conversations about restructuring the church– I’m not even sure what we passed on to the finance committee, but I’m pretty sure it’s out of order, and I said so. That’s right. I came here to advocate for justice and instead I stood and the mic and read from the rule book. Yikes.

Even advocating for justice has been hard. We are not all of one mind as to what that justice might look like and how it is best accomplished (surprising, right?), and so those of us “on the same team” are sometimes disagreeing with one another. It gets messy. That’s relationship. Today I was speaking passionately with 3 other people, and realized that I was disagreeing with Mark Miller. The Mark Miller. I said that, in fact. “I’m yelling at Mark Freaking Miller!”

We’re all just in shock. What is clear is that this is not the UMC we all thought we knew. Yesterday, we debated the preamble to our social principles, a seemingly benign paragraph of the Discipline that some felt needed a greater expression of grace. There was a proposal that we add “We affirm that nothing can separate us from the love of God,” a direct quote from Romans 8. We debated whether or not we would affirm this statement of prevenient grace, *the* essential Wesleyan/Methodist tenant. 53% of delegates believed in God’s unconditional love. Only 53%.

This is not my church.

My fellow progressives and my delegation from New England (powerhouse people!) are all walking around like zombies, shocky and stunned and confused. What happened to the denomination that taught hope? love? grace? compassion? Gone. Copoted. Outvoted.

We’ve got a hail mary pass tomorrow, but mostly it will probably be another day of voting on things that matter deeply– how much we are willing to wound our GLBTQ members of the body. I expect the votes will go 60/40. I expect it will hurt like hell.

There aren’t words for the feeling tonight. It’s prayerful, but there aren’t words. Sighs too deep for words. I ache.

Diary of a Delegate: Two megachurch pastors walk into a bar

Adam Hamilton, promo photo from the web

Given my previous post, it should come as no surprise that the highlight of my day yesterday was going out to an open air bar with some friends, old and new. It was a gorgeous night and we found a great spot to hang out.

When we walked in, one member of our group noticed the Revs. Adam Hamilton and Mike Slaughter sitting together at a nearby table. As mentioned previously, Adam had been a presenter for the Call to Action legislative proposals which, along with every other proposed restructure of the denomination, was shot down in committee. I imagine Adam was feeling pretty empty, too. Maybe he was just trying to relax with a friend and regroup for next week, just like me.

But it was hard to resist the temptation. Two UMC rock stars at the same table! More importantly, two powerful voices for reshaping the future of the church. Right over there.

Finally, after some deliberation and some pushing from my friends and tablemates (you guys realize you are that group at the party, sending your friend over to get a guy’s number, right?), I approached the table where the megachurch pastors were sitting, and inserted myself into their conversation.

Mike Slaughter, promo photo from the web

I introduced myself and confessed to Adam that I was @pastorbecca on Twitter, where I had, it seems, started a trend by tweeting “you can’t scare people into hope” at him, a tweet he’d mentioned as having gotten his attention (to be fair, I really thought I retweeted that from someone, but twitterverse tells me that they got it from me). I told him I hadn’t meant it to be a personal attack, but a sincere reflection of how I was feeling in the moment, and how I felt about the proposals from the Call to Action. We launched into a conversation about the nature of twitter and social media for a bit, and I thanked Adam for speaking with the young people who had raised questions.

“The problem, I think,” I said to them, “is that both of you have these huge churches that you’ve built and done so well in, and you’ve been given big voices along with that. We have little churches and littler voices, so there’s a disconnect. Some of what each of you says doesn’t resonate with us, because the context is so different. Twitter is basically all we’ve got, but it’s grassroots and open-source, and our voices get out there and get heard.”

We talked more about the church declining in the United States and how we struggle to be relevant. I shared my frustration with being so horribly out of touch with relativity as a church when it comes to homosexuality, and vented that while we struggle to find a way to be a global denomination, with polity and principles that can be shared by liberals and conservatives around the world and across the country, in the mean time, the U.S. church is dying, and I can’t make a very good case for it to live in my progressive town. Both of them encouraged me to keep seeking justice and be patient, which I thought was pretty refreshing. They’re good guys, but not ones I would normally turn to for advice in the perseverance against injustice department.

Finally, I shared some exegesis of my own (okay, so that may have been a bit presumptuous) about the text where the Syrophoenician woman comes to Jesus for help, and I said I thought our church was where Jesus was in that story: tired, anxious, and stretched too thin, our knee jerk reaction is to close in on ourselves, revert to what is safe and known, and push others away with words and actions that can be very hurtful. But the woman knows Jesus is more than that, and better than that, and calls him out, and he agrees. Those who criticize the church, I said, be it for its restructure attempts and the critiques we see there, or for it’s exclusion of the GLBT community, we know that the church us better than it is being right in this moment, and we’re calling it out. May the church rise to the challenge and open to the possibility that our faith is healing.

Adam said he thought that would make a good sermon. I expect my royalty check in the mail ;)

So thanks to Adam and Mike, who were probably also stretched thin and could have shunned the woman from outside their circle, approaching their table and pushing into their conversation. you received me with grace and our conversation was good.

Of course, this morning I woke up with the one thing– the very one thing– I would have Adam Hamilton if I got the chance. Isn’t that always the way?

Diary of a Delegate: Days Four and Five- Let me be full, let me be empty

Twitter topic cloud for Friday 4/27 from @andrewconard

When Bishop Weaver gave his episcopal address a few days ago, he concluded by inviting us to share in the Wesleyan Covenant Prayer, which contains the phrase “let me be full; let me be empty…”

The past two days have been both full and empty.You’ll note that I don’t distinguish between the two days or what we did which day; I honestly can’t tell them apart.

The daytime hours have been filled with subcommittee and committee work (in rooms empty of even cell signal…). From the very beginning, it was clear that my subcommittee, dealing with issues of reproductive rights, was going to be a very conservatively-tipped body. Most of the votes, when we came to voting, split 14 to 9 in favor of conservative positions. However, we worked an entire day in a very collaborative way, rewriting the Book of Discipline‘s paragraph on abortion. At the end of the day, we had crafted something of which I am proud– and it needed only two changes to keep it from being a decided step back for women’s rights. Both amendments were made in the full committee, and in my opinion the petition we are supporting is an improvement to the current language in the BOD. I was filled with a sense of achievement for what we did together.

But on the issues related to GLBT inclusion and rights, we took major losses. Despite passing the most progressive legislation through sub-committee, the main committee of Church and Society B voted down any and all changes to the denomination’s stance that the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching. We will bring the fight to the plenary floor as well, so it’s not officially over yet, but at the lunch break after the vote, I sobbed uncontrollably in the arms of Will Green, as he sobbed in mine, and then I did the whole thing again with Annie Britton. My dear, dear friends and colleagues in ministry, two of the most clearly gifted pastors I have ever encountered.

Someone put food in front of me and I ate it, but I have no memory of what it was. In fact, I’ve eaten so little and walked so much this week that I have dropped 3 pounds. My body feels empty.

Twitter topic cloud for Saturday 4/28 from @andrewconard

At one point in my committee work, I was so filled with rage I could barely speak; (presumably) straight white male delegates called for a vote by standing– as opposed to paper ballots or raised hands, “to expedite our voting.” This request was raised for the first time when we read the first piece of legislation that contained the word “transgender.” One old white man said “I vote my conscience and it doesn’t matter who is watching; it’s a matter of integrity.” Easy for you to say since the system is built to serve and protect you, (insert colorful descriptor here). The chair overruled the request eventually, and after the paper ballot was taken and the legislation protecting transgendered persons from violence was passed, I called for a moment of person privilege and laid the smack down from the mic. I said that the transgender community has suffered more harassment, humiliation, and violence at the hands of the church and the wider community than any other, and that calling for a standing vote on so vulnerable an issue was not about expediency, but bullying and intimidation of the highest order. I ended by saying that a vote won by intimidating others into silence would not be progress toward any end but an evil one.

Finally, as I could have predicted, the full committee voted to withdraw the united Methodist Church from the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice (which, when you think about it, is ironic, since withdrawal is no guarantee…). What was most frustrating about this vote is that a conservative delegate presented “research” she had done off the internet, and it was factually inaccurate complete and utter lies. She said the RCRC opposed any restrictions on late term abortion (they, like the UMC, support them only if the mother’s life is in danger), had made no changes in the policy and focus of being solely pro-abortion (they have, after much conversation with the UMC, shifted focus to maternal and fetal health, contraception, education, and advocacy for access to safe, legal abortions when they are needed), and that they support the work of pagan witch doctors (yeah, I dunno). But when we tried to bring a person who actually worked with the RCRC to speak, they would not let the “witness” if you will give testimony. Lies and dirty tricks, and women around the world– particularly those without health care and family support– will pay the price.

That was the last action of the day, and after all of that, my overwhelming feeling was emptiness. Shock. Numbness. Emptiness.

I left it all on the field, every ounce of energy, creativity, hope, and connection. We will live to resurrect some legislation for another day, and make our case on the plenary floor for full inclusion and the protection of women’s rights. But in that moment, there was nothing.

Later, again out with friends, I was filled with laughter, and the smallest glimmer of hope.

Today, we stand in recess for the Sabbath. Church continues, sermons are preached, justice marches onward, if not always in places we can see.

Diary of a Delegate: Day Three – Tears

Thursday in twitter topics, from @andrewconard

Yes, I know. Technically, I could subtitle any day at General Conference, or anywhere else for that matter, with that word.

I’m a crier. It’s me.

But Thursday there were more tears than usual.

I’ll give a shout out to Adam Hamilton, who after a lot of critique of the proposal he helped present, agreed to meet with the young people who had raised concerns. That was very gracious of him.

We had a long day in our committees and subcommittees, where, it must be noted, there is spotty wifi and very little cell reception (and so I’m not able to blog, facebook, or tweet).

As I had planned, I self-selected onto the subcommittee on reproductive rights, because that subcommittee was in need of progressive voices– and it still is. We’re pretty outnumbered, including by some who believe abortion is wrong in all– and I mean all– cases, including rape and incest, birth defects incompatible with the life of the child, and threats to the life of the mother.

But what our chairperson did was really wonderful. Before we discussed any legislation, she invited us to share where our hearts were on the subject of abortion. What followed was a truly holy conversation, with deep sharing of personal stories. There were tears and  hugs and similar experiences shared from around the world and across the theological perspective. I shared my story, and wept.

Mark Miller and many other delegates stood to express their pain and brokenness. (picture found on facebook, HT Joey Lopez- I don't know original source)

In the evening, as our legislation was wrapping up, Mark Miller, a delegate to this General Conference and often our music leader in times past, stood for a point of personal privilege. Mark was joined at the microphone by a number of other delegates who were willing to identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender voting members of the conference. As they stood together at the mic, Mark shared that many people (certainly not all– some had experienced wonderful conversation) felt bullied, abused, or wounded by the attempt at holy conversation the day before around human sexuality. Mark invited other delegates on the floor and visitors around the room to stand in solidarity as well. Although the presiding Bishop ruled the act of courage and solidarity out of order, he agreed to say a prayer on behalf of a wounded and broken church community.

Witness outside the plenary session.

As the room emptied later, delegates, volunteers, and guests lines the hallway, holding hands and standing in silence, or crying quietly, or later singing. So much pain. We gathered in the Coalition Tabernacle and debriefed and hugged and cried some more.

I shed one more round of tears last night and into the early hours of this morning. After all was said and done, I spent several hours sharing refreshments and conversation with some friends from my conference (and former conference). We laughed until we couldn’t breathe and I wept tears of mirth.


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