About Those Bonuses

The national discussion of late has been about the AIG executive bonuses. Much outrage and political posturing all around. For me, it is hard to imagine the kind of money these folks (and lots and lots of others, who don't make the news) seem to take for granted.

I'm pretty tired of hearing about, thinking about it, reading about it.

So I am offering a proposal: Let the AIG executives keep their bonuses, down to the scroungy last penny.

All they have to do in exchange is follow this man's example.

Maybe there are two versions of the "American dream."

One looks like executive suites, vacation homes and the "good life" provided by wealth. Another looks strangely like a story Jesus would tell.

Give me Jorge Munoz's version.

much peace, much love, etc.
Clay

Of Plays, Divorce Court and Dangerous Grace

A few things've been bumping around the old noggin of late.(1)

One is a conversation I recently had with a friend and ministry colleague here in the L.G. He's more conservative than I am and so we disagree frequently about the Christian faith. But we do so agreeably. We call one another heretic, laugh and move on; it's good fun and we do this every Wednesday.

But this particular conversation is sticking in my craw.

At one point, talking with yet another colleague about how denominations can tie themselves in knots trying to issue statements about social issues, my Amigo Conservativo suggested that the Church shouldn't get too worked up about such things. After all, we have bigger fish to fry, what with telling people about Jesus and all. The particular topic under discussion was the war in Iraq.

Granted, we serve the Prince of Peace, who said things like "turn the other cheek" and "if you hate your brother, you're guilty of murder." But maybe Jesus didn't mean these things exactly that way. Fine. You say the Church should focus squarely on the proclamation of the Gospel, offering an alternative vision of life rather than being entangled in the things of this world. I don't agree, but maybe that's a defensible position.

But not half an hour later, the topic of the Play That Shall Not Be Named(2) came up. And this colleague was glad that some churchy people had got together and got the thing stopped, if only from being performed on the high school campus. "After all, someone has to stand up for what's right. And if the Church won't do it, who will?"

Hmm. I'm not sure I can add anything here. Except to say, "Really?"

Two stories d'news news stories caught my eye of late, as well.

Everyone's favorite VERY NOT GAY former megachurch pastor, Ted Haggard, and his wife are appearing on Divorce Court, to counsel folks that divorce is not the best option available to them. Again, what can you say? Life (and life in the Church, particularly) is funny.

And finally, on the topic of "Grace and forgiveness are GREAT! Well, for me, not you...."

A pastor in New England is facing threats and intimidation for making like Jesus. And you know that's gonna rouse the rabble.

After the conversation with my colleague and the story on the Formerly Reverend Haggard, I was tempted to blast our conservative bretheren and sisteren for their weirdness and hypocrisy. But, Lo! and behold!, the pastor of the River of Grace Church steps up to the plate in the name of Jesus and belts one out of the park. Good for him.

And, dear God, forgive my arrogance.

Honestly, I'd rather that life in the Church was easier to untangle: my guys are right, everyone else is wrong. Agree with me and be saved, disagree and perish. But it doesn't seem to work like that. It seems that the Kingdom may be larger than our ways of understanding, that neither progressives nor conservatives have the market on righteousness and that we may just be in this thing together.

Silly God, being bigger than we think.

much peace, much love, etc.
Clay

(1) I have a sizable noggin, so there's lots of room for things to bump around in.
(2) As an update, in case you've missed it in the national news: Steve Martin, whose play is at the center of the tempest here in the L.G., wrote a letter to the editor of our little paper and has offered to pay for an off-campus production of the play. I sometimes wonder if the nice lady who got the play banned in the first place realizes that, had she said nothing, a few hundred people would have seen it. I suspect that, thanks to all the free national publicity, this may be the best attended high school play in La Grande's history.

Numerology, or, Are You Sure Wesley Done It This Way?

On Friday, I finished making up, err, I mean, carefully calculating facts and figures for our Year End Statistics Doodad for the United Methodist Church. 7 pages of 6-point font, all so that someone, somewhere, can compile the numbers that will give an accurate portrait-via-accounting of the death of the United Methodist Church.

I don't want the UMC* to die. Good Lord willing (and BOOM don't read my blog), I'm about 16 months away from standing (barefoot, probably) in an auditorium full of folks and God His Own Self to offer myself - unreservedly, wholeheartedly and until whatever the mandatory-retirement age is by then - for ordained ministry in this Church. I've got 30 or more years in front of me as a pastor in the UMC; I don't want to make that covenant to a dying Church.

But, still, it sometimes seems like the Emperor is a might bit short on proper attire.

I know that lots of folks - from the ones who write books and teach in seminaries, to the Bishops (including my own) and, yea, even all the way down unto most of my colleagues - don't want the church to die. And there are signs of hope, yes indeedy, yes indeedy.

But there are also signs of dire trouble right under our own noses and I think most of us are finally willing to acknowledge it. Mostly because the stench of death eventually becomes undeniable.

But while we lose members and vision and passion and a sense of being the Kingdom in the Here and Now, we keep counting and counting and counting some more. And it is important to know what's happening. I know lots of people (more important, more studied and longer served than I) would tell me, with great vehemence, how wrong and naive I am to discount the value of these statistics. ("Allow me to retort...")

But I don't remember reading any part of the Gospels where Jesus says, "Verily, I say unto thee, go and make disciples of every nation, and count them annually, measuring them in number and in depth. Categorize them and keep record of them in tiny little boxes on pieces of parchment, for in this way, you fulfill the law of my Father who sent me."**

Mayhaps this is my biggest beef with this process: it cannot possibly count what it is we really want to know - Are people growing into the Kingdom of God? Are they becoming disciples?

Here's my soapbox example of the problem, as I see it:

There's a family that comes to my church. I won't use their names because I haven't asked permission to talk publicly about them and my mentor Kristie would whup my butt for talking about people without asking first...

Anyway, this family is a Parent and three children, who range from junior high-ish to early elementary. This parent came to visit me early in my ministry here in "The Big"*** asking if it was OK to come to church even without believing in Jesus.

"You'll fit right in," says I.

When word got out on the home front, the children were none too amused at the prospect of going to church. They held a protest. With signs and everything, marching in a circle and chanting slogans. But to church they were drug.

I learned more about Parent's story. It turns out that Parent came from an actively anti-church home. And most of Parent's friends would count themselves athiest. Parent didn't tell those friends about going to church for a long time, for fear of what they would say. But Something was tugging, or poking or prodding.

Fast forward 2 years or so.

Parent and I have had lots of discussions about God, Jesus, faith and church. The family comes to worship almost every Sunday. After a couple of long discussions, the family receives Communion and Parent can discuss the Sacrament with more depth, passion and honesty than most folks in most pews.

A few months back this family was at church for our Sunday school thing, but Parent had to leave before worship. But before the family could leave, the youngest girl searched out my wife Jen, not to say goodbye, but to ask if Jen would "babysit" her so she could stay for worship. Same kid who was part of a protest (with signs, chanted slogans and everything) and was drug to church now can't hardly be drug out of church.

Statistically speaking, from the first day this family walked in our doors, they fell into the "Constituent Roll" category (Table I, line 7d). Two years and a thousand spiritual miles later? They fall into the "Constituent Roll" category (Table I, line 7d).

No journey, no story, no difference.

How many stories of faith are we missing while we count noses and nickels so scrupulously? How many journeys are happening that never appear on Table I, II or III?

Jesus told stories about the Kingdom of God; he didn't teach an actuarial table of grace. The feeding of the 5000, the sending out of the 70, the struggles of the 12 apostles, the healing of 10 lepers, being hung between 2 thieves... the point of these stories isn't the numbers involved, it's the stuff that can't be categorized and counted.

I have a fantasy. I'm a Bishop (hence, the fantastical nature of this vision) and the first thing I do is scrap the Statistical Table - I, II, and, verily, even III. Instead, pastors send in 3 stories about the work of God in their churches.

Might that change our focus a bit? Might people be more attracted to a church that tells good stories? Might it make a difference for the Kingdom?

Might not. But, then again, it might.

398.7 hectoliters of peace, 1953.22 kilograms love, etc.
Clay

*Maybe what we UM's need is a hipper name, a new slogan for a new generation. I thought about "UMeth" but that has unfortunate connotations.
**Yes, Bible-nerds, I know there is a book called "Numbers" but 1) that's not what Jesus called it and 2) no one reads the actual number parts of "Numbers."
***Funny how place names don't sound quite so cool when translated into English.

Why I'm a Pastor

It's been slightly historic lately. Others have written/blogged/poem-ed/benedicted more eloquently and more thoughfully about the inauguration of President Obama and what it means historically, culturally, politically and even religiously.

On Inauguration Day, I was in Arkansas with a number of dear friends and was reminded of why it is I'm a pastor. (OK, ultimately, it comes down to feeling called. As Tex Sample says, being called by God is a lot like throwing up - sometimes you can put it off for a while, but eventually you're gonna have to do it.)

Watching said Historical Presidential Inauguration, I noticed the people in the room with me. Many of them are pastors. Many of them are the people who have taught me how to live the roles of pastor and priest. They are people who challenge me to be a prophet.

My friend Bill (who is a badass) has been working for civil rights since before I was born. He shared a story about the one time he saw MLK speak in person at an antiwar protest in Arlington National Cemetery.

My friend Milton (who did not speak Cajun over the weekend - major disappointment) reflected on the time that he helped to lead the first integrated campus ministry meeting in Louisiana. The governor declared that such an abomination would never take place on a state school campus. When the group decided to meet off campus, at a Methodist retreat center, the governor sent state troopers to block the road. An hour-long standoff ended when federal marshals showed up and cleared the way.

My friend Morris (well, he's more of a hugging aquaintance than a friend) listened quietly to our stories and conversations. Someone prompted him to share his connection to the history of the civil rights movement. Morris, it turns out, served in the National Guard. The Arkansas National Guard. In 1957. Barely 18 years old, he was part of the drama at Central High School - one day serving the governor's orders to keep black children out of the school; the next, serving the President's orders to do just the opposite. Morris and his fellow guardsmen donned riot gear, formed wedges and walked 9 kids into school through a mob of angry protestors.

I was born after the integration of schools, after the Civil Rights Movement, after the Voting Rights Act.

Last Tuesday, I sat and watched the inauguration of Barack Obama with people who, in some small and not-so-small ways, were part of making the day possible. People of faith, struggling and striving towards God's Kingdom and seeking God's justice. People who are part of my story also.

In terms of time, it is not such a long way from Central High School in 1957 to last Tuesday. In terms of righteousness, it is a massive span.

Some folks, looking back on that tremendous journey, have suggested that, after Tuesday, anyone can imagine themselves as President. It is true that we have taken a major step forward, but we have a long way yet to go. The journey is not yet finished.

A number of my sisters in ministry will tell you that there are plenty of people who cannot imagine a woman as a pastor, much less President. But we shall overcome.

How many of our gay brothers and sisters are still longing for the day when they can simply live without fear, let alone openly serve as pastors, parents or Presidents? But we shall overcome.

It is humbling to stand with God's servants and to proclaim the Good News of freedom and forgiveness, to bear prophetic witness to God's Kingdom and to receive and share a foretaste of the heavenly banquet. It's easy to get caught up in the mundane frustration of life in the church: budgets and meetings, holes in the roof and arguments about choir robes. But there are moments when I am reminded that the Church is more than "the church." Moments, surrounded by colleague I am privileged to call friends, when I am reminded that I am called, along with so many others - lay and clergy - to be God's Kingdom. I am reminded that God's Goodness shall overcome evil, light shall overcome dark, and love shall overcome hate. And that is Good Stuff Indeed. Amen and Alleluia.

much peace, much love, etc.
Clay

An Uncomfortable Kingdom

The big political story of late is that El Presidente Elect-o has asked Rick Warren - pastor of Saddleback Church and Great High Potentate of the Pupose-Driven Empire - to offer the invocation at the inauguration. (See the story here.)

Understandably, gay and lesbian advocates (and many other folks) have expressed their dismay and anger at the choice. After all, Pastor Warren is very socially conservative. While he has challenged evangeilcals to confront the issues of poverty and the spread of AIDS, he remains opposed to gay marriage and is outspokenly pro-life.

I'm no fan of Pastor Warren - I'm not very Purpose-Driven, I guess - nor his theology (especially his ecclesiology), nor still some of his poitical opinions. I can understand on one level why many folks would be bugged that he was given such an honor.

On the other hand, this is exactly what Mr. Obama promised whilst campaigning: a new kind of politics that seeks to bring people together even when they disagree. Did folks think that he meant that he would only work with people when they disagreed on, say, the type of dog he should get? I don't agree with much of Pastor Warren's agenda, and would have probably chosen someone different. (I'm not saying I should have been invited, but I do have a blog, so I'm kind of a big deal....) But I am hopeful that perhaps this new approach to politics might actually open some eyes and soften some divisions.

And at the risk of waxing too Jesus-y, it makes me think a bit about the Kingdom that Jesus invites us to join. Politically, one can pick and choose with whom one stands. But in God's Kingdom, we don't get so much say. We can choose if we're in or out, but we can't choose who else gets in. I might think Rick Warren is kind of a doofus, but he's my doofus brother in Christ, like it or not. I think that some of his ideas fall outside of God's scandalous Kingdom, but that doesn't mean he does. Grace is really very irksome that way.

A very dear colleague whom I admire deeply (well, OK, actually it was just Eilidh*.....zing! A shout-out and an insult, all bottled together!) said that she believes that Heaven will be a lot of work. I'm not smart enough to know what the great hereafter is like, but I know that the here-and-now Kingdom of Heaven is a lot of work. It's not easy loving people you don't particularly like. It's challenging. It's often uncomfortable. (You mean, I may have to sit next to that guy?) But that's why it's God's Kingdom, not ours. I may not like it all the time, but I can trust that maybe God knows what God's doing. Maybe God is Purpose-Driven, after all, but just by a more divine purpose than we can easily see.

much peace, much love, etc.
Clay

*for non-Scottish speakers, "Eilidh" is pronounced like "Hailey" without the H. That's why I like to address email to her with "Hola Eilidh" - it sounds funny. In written form, though, it looks like a minor character from an H.P. Lovecraft Cthulhu story. Just sayin'....