Barnes & Noble Reality Check

The Sunday after Christmas, I was browsing the religion section at a Barnes & Noble in Oklahoma City. The "Christian Inspiration" shelves were a hodgepodge of darn near anything, going light years beyond what I think of as inspirational. Some good books, I found there, several I'd like to read (e.g. Scot McKnight's Blue Parakeet). Some other books that I've read (e.g Tony Jones' The New Christians). And then, of course, a spray of all sorts of books, from smarmy sentimentalist glop to apocalyptic rants (e.g. John Hagee) to the enlightened conspiracy theories of various Dan Brown knock-offs.

Then I ran across this book, with a cover that seemed to fit, entitled Dirty Word: The Vulgar, Offensive Languages of the Kingdom of God, by Jim Walker. I scanned the back cover. "He's the pastor of Hot Metal Bridge," I thought to myself with some excitement. I had heard of Hot Metal Bridge, a cutting-edge United Methodist ministry in Pittsburgh, PA. Then I looked at the publisher: Discipleship Resources. "Wow!" I thought. "How unusual it is to find a Discipleship Resources book in Barnes & Noble."

(Just in case you don't know, Discipleship Resources is the imprint of the United Methodist General Board of Discipleship. They publish all manner of books on various - you guessed it - topics related to practical Christian discipleship.)

And then I caught myself listening to myself: "How odd to find a Discipleship Resources book in a Barnes & Noble." How odd. How sad.

How do I say this? My little "moment" reminded me of just how out of it we United Methodists are when it comes to impact outside our denomination. I don't know how many titles from Discipleship Resources that you have found at a Barnes & Noble. My very superficial quick-search turned up exactly zero additional ones. If anybody can show me otherwise, I'd be happy to have you change my mind.

Many United Methodists talk as if our legacy of influence (the 19th century up to the middle 20th century, mostly) were a reflection of the way we are now. But outside of United Methodists, who listens to United Methodists? Who is reading our authors? Our scholars? We have some outstanding scholars and some great church leaders who are also authors. But really, who is reading them outside the denomination? By comparison to other, national-level Christian authors, we are vastly under-represented.

We'd better wake up. We have to quit just talking to ourselves. I'm not at all worrying about denominational prominence or even survival. Frankly, I don't care much about either. But we do have something very important to share - and to share it broadly. We have stuff to say that people need to hear. But we have to find a way to say it that connects.

Campus Ministry Conundrum

This week I'm in the Houston area (The Woodlands, ya'll) at a campus ministry conference called "Refresh '08." It is the third annual "Refresh" and it is a joy to hang around 160 or so dedicated Christians interested in college ministries and young people. We've heard great speakers, experienced edifying worship, attended helpful workshops and have enjoyed spending a lot of time connecting with one another.

I've been in campus ministry long enough that these folks really feel like close friends. Of course, I see some of them only at this event in a year's time. For you United Methodist clergy types, it's like going to annual conference (perhaps a tad more fun). It is NOT like annual conference in terms of acting on business items. The goals of "Refresh" are three: (1) be refreshed,(2) get connected with other college ministers and (3) find resources for your work.

For a research project I'm beginning to build, I looked at the Census Bureau statistics online to try to figure out just how many college students there are in the United States. I need to get back to the site, but I think, if I found the right number, there are almost 16 million college students in this country. Sixteen million. Did I say sixteen million?

Some of my friends in this work have - by the usual standards of measurement - huge ministries: several hundred students coming to a mid-week worship and engaged in small groups for discipleship and other practices of spiritual growth and ministry. They are the mega-churches of campus ministry. For others, the scope of their ministry is smaller, but no less significant. When I hang around these folks and listen to what they're doing, I envision their students. They're doing some really amazing things. I see the fruit of the ministry (some of their former students are now in campus ministry, or local church ministry, or on the mission field, or - perhaps the best - engaged in radical Christian discipleship in "secular" jobs). When I think of those sixteen million young people and the efforts of my friends and colleagues to reach some of them, my heart swells with joy.

But something else is going on at this conference. It is a common theme among us. Why are (especially) erstwhile mainline denominations - in spite of much rhetoric to the contrary - so fatalistically detached from the mission field that is college ministry? Why do we hear so much about new church starts (by the way, how are we doing on them?) and don't see the field white for harvest among college students? Clearly, there are committed, interested, leaders, from the top of our United Methodist Church to the grass roots. We have two bishops attending our event. God bless them! Yet, I've also talked to denominational executives who are working hard and constantly frustrated by the lack of movement. Some of us have stood around in little knots, this week, during breaks, verbally scratching our heads about the inertia.

So, on the one hand, we can rejoice in the tremendous work that is happening. I thank God for concerned individuals working so hard to make a difference. On the other, when we go back home, save for a few notable exceptions, we will get back to work within an ecclesial (United Methodist) context that largely ignores us.

That is the conundrum of campus ministry.

The Breakthrough

It has been almost two weeks since the general elections and pundits are still buzzing about Barack Obama's victory. Like so many people, I spent the whole evening on November 4, watching the returns, then Senator McCain's gracious concession speech and, finally, well past my bedtime, the President-Elect.

Yes, it truly was an historic moment. I don't really qualify as a politics junkie - not even close - but I have stayed in touch with various news programs since then. Obviously, one of the regular themes has been what the election means for African Americans, but, more importantly, for the whole nation. A very long, very large burden is finally, mercifully lifting.

As I watched the party in Grant Park, Chicago, the TV cameras returned again and again to Jesse Jackson and Oprah Winfrey. The whole world could see both of them alternatively laughing and crying. Although Jackson appears to be beyond his prime in terms of prominence in the news, Oprah Winfrey most definitely is not. She is one of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world, much less the United States. (Some of you may think I'm too prone to overstatement here, but think about it: her wealth, her reach via TV, her book club, for goodness' sake!) And there she was, shedding tears of joy.

Last Spring I attended the United Methodist General Conference. Worship is always incredibly well-done at this international two-week event. I may not have the details of this memory exactly right, but one moment stands out. A combined choir of two African American United Methodist churches sang at one of the evening worship services. They sang a number well-known among Black churches, with lyrics characteristic of black gospel: oppression, struggle, faith and perseverance. I noticed how our African American sisters and brothers sang - not merely with enthusiasm (because they like the music) - but with a level of feeling that is hard to describe. They felt that song deep in their collective soul.

Affluent, powerful, middle-class black people singing a song about oppression and deliverance; singing with a pathos and a poignance that caught my attention.

I did not grow up in the lap of affluence or privilege. My parents were Depression-era western Kansas, hard-scrabble cowfolk from pioneer stock. My Dad became a preacher and never made more than minimum salary. We pinched a lot of pennies when I was a kid and I often felt embarrassed about not having stuff other kids had, even the kids who lived out in the middle of nowhere.

But, watching Oprah crying on national TV; listening to the songs of Zion sung like only people who know the sting of racial hatred can sing, I'm telling you, I got it. As close as an over-educated white boy can get it, I got it. You can have a billion dollars in the bank. You can have fame beyond description. You can have a modicum of acceptance on the basis of education or wealth. And you can still feel the emptiness of that something, so basic to human community, that is still denied.

Far beyond Republicans and Democrats, far surpassing party power, beyond whether or not they'll get a filibuster-busting super-majority in the Senate, this election is The Breakthrough. That something-so-basic is no longer denied. Or deniable.

Wrap Up, General Conference

The last day of General Conference, May 2, was a doozy for ram-rodding business through the system. It always happens that people start leaving that last day, particualrly international delegates who have to start their long journeys home.

As I drove away from Ft. Worth Friday afternoon, I felt a little sheepish leaving my delegates in a lurch, but I had to return to Winfield. Saturday and Sunday were full of college convocation and graduation activities and since I was a reserve delegate, and since I had college responsibilities, I thought I probably should go ahead and leave.

In terms of the amount of work yet to be done, it was not pretty for the last day of General Conference. As the day began, there were still almost 90 petitions that needed action. (As Nathan Stanton and I crossed the border into Kansas at about 6:00pm that evening, he called one of our delegates. They still had 50 petitions to work through.) They somehow managed to wrap it all up and close the books on yet another conference.

My view of the combined highlights of the final day and General Conference in toto:

1. From the beginning to the end (when the budget was considered), we talked of four missional priorites:
- Developing principled Christian leaders;
- Creating new places for new people by starting new congregations and renewing existing ones;
- Engaging in ministries with the poor; and
- Improving global health, especially attacking the killer diseases of poverty.

They're huge. I'm especially interested in the first one, but all are critically important. And we're trying to marshal our human and financial resources to address them. This move is evidence of the very encouraging attempts of a large, bureaucratic denomination to get our numerous agencies together to pull for common concerns. May God bless and optimize these efforts and this vision!

2. Some change in the Book of Discipline language related to abortion. I've been a supporter of our stance on this question, but, I admit, I take a "pro-life" reading of it and some do not. It says that we recognize the "tragic conflicts of life with life." We condemn birth control abortions (most of them done in this country). We also decry gender selection abortions. As with homosexual practice, abortion is a political football in the church, one of those topics that mires us in political debate. Thus, I find the additions to the language encouraging because it helps us get to actual ministry rather than mere rhetoric: We will support "“ministries to reduce unintended pregnancies” and we will support those ministries which help women “find feasible alternatives to abortion.” I like these statements because, regardless of how we feel about the rights of women and fetuses (or babies, if you prefer), we can surely work to reduce the need for abortions by engaging in these aims.

3. Because I'm a bishop candidate, I find this next item intriguing, though it actually passed earlier in the conference: we raised the mandatory retirement age for bishops from 66 to 68. I think it's a good move. If a bishop is in good health and still has passion and gifts for ministry, why not make it so that she/he can serve? Surely a person of such venerable age also has wisdom!?

I'm not sure I ever have "final" thoughts, but let me try the following in response to General Conference 2008. First, there is a core United Methodism that is, I believe, firm, if not as vocal as some other parts of the church. I know some people who might read this comment will be offended, but I make this claim because, in my chats with people across the 10 days, I often heard a sentiment that matched mine. On many of the hot issues, there was another opinion that often went unvoiced. The people who go to the microphone at General Conference, most of the time, are pretty bold. The vast majority of delegates never approach the mic. I'm going to avoid using the word "middle" or "center" (there is nothing automatically virtuous about being there), but I do believe there is a core United Methodism that is strong.

On the other hand, the sheer range of ideas, commitments, beliefs and experiences that fit under the denominational label makes "United Methodist" as an identifier almost meaningless. There was a lot of talk (and I mean a lot) about "holy conferencing," but in truth, some people were there to protect their interests, pure and simple. I think, in large part, our structure is to blame. I mentioned in an earlier blog that we act almost like a religious United Nations. I think our denomination has been shaped too much by American liberal (no pejorative intended) democratic principles. (Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willimon are marking more sense to me all the time.) In this framework, advocating for one's one's interests is expected. We may use the term "rights," but often the issue is really "interests." Some interests are diametrically opposed to other interersts. There is deep animosity in our church. Some United Methodists are enemies of others.

We try to make nice about this animosity by interpreting the hatred as just the emotional heat and pressure of General Conference. We're kidding ourselves.

As I finish this blog, I'm keenly aware of the disaster in Myanmar. One of our students who graduated Sunday is from that country. Her father is a United Methodist bishop there. The latest count I've heard is that more than 20,000 are confirmed dead with more than twice that many missing and as many as a million people homeless. The United Methodist Committee on Relief has set up an account for the Myanmar Emergency. I just made a donation. If you wish to do the same - and I beg you to do - the reference number is UMCOR Advance #3019674.