Cooling Off, a Little

A commenter on my blog about getting a job (10/11) reminded me of a verse from Ecclesiastes (3:13), "It is God's gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil." Since this statement is all that the commenter left me, I take it to be a gentle criticism of my "worker bee" reference.

I'll accept this remonstrance. As I think about people who work in technical fields with technical degrees (including my own son) I do not want to create the impression that such jobs are not good, honest labor with their own inherent value. They certainly are. My intent was not to play the elitist and put down technical schools or work, in general. In fact, I want just the opposite.

Rather, I was and still am aiming at the absurd prejudice so prevelant in our society, that the main purpose of going to college is so that you can get that good job. That is not the purpose of college at all. It is, rather, to figure out who you are; to become a thoughtful, wise person. Furthermore, Christian higher education , to which I am committed, is about becoming a mature, fruitful disciple of Jesus Christ. (Perhaps the Bible college mentality is the Christian analogy to technical schools. Now I'm probably in trouble with a different set of people.) Having a job is certainly an important part of being a faithful Christian. But the "technical school" approach to adult life is dangerously short-sighted.

I suppose what I'm really talking about is the old idea of "vocation." You can get training in a particular skill set and get yoruself a good job. But you - a person - are so much more than your job skills. I'd like for every line worker in the country to know and believe this truth deeply about him- or herself. How will anyone know it if all we think a college education does is help people get a good job?

Here's the irony I find behind my commenter's gentle criticism: it is at least possible that a college student might actually have to read Ecclesiastes 3 for a class and think about what it means. That action of having to think about something beside just how to work a piece of equipment or solve a mechanical problem (worthy skills, I repeat) is exactly what I'm talking about. I have a hard time imagining that a student in technical school would - as a part of his/her education - ever run into such a reading.

Thus I return to my main concern: wise, thoughtful, people and, more to the point, that kind of Christian populating our society. It is why I reacted so negatively to that newspaper article. We need a broader vision about college than the entrenched technical school mentality and, however people get it, our society needs people who know the difference between sound wisdom and instrumental skill. We are slipping badly on this count.

Down to the Wire

Even though the bishops have been trying to scoot us along, General Conference proceedings are not moving very quickly - and tomorrow is the last day. Why are there so many amendments being proposed? Why so many procedural, tactical moves? Two speculative answers.

First, almost half the delegates at this year's General Conference are new. I'm not slamming new people (especially because some of them have made very insightful comments on our issues - and many of them have been young adults!), but I do think that many new people may not have a good sense of "pace" for getting through all the matters. And there have been lots of procedural questions and doubling back to make sure everyone is on the same page.

Probably more to the point, we are moving toward a new structure in United Methodism. As I've mentioned before, the UM Church is growing outside the USA and we're trying to free them to build the structures they need (e.g. new bishops for new conferences). Whenever you start messing with the structures of a big, bureaucratic organization, you run into resistance. This matter is intensified by the anxiety on the part of some that moving to regional conferences will mean that United States United Methodism will finally remove all language from the Book of Discipline having to do with homosexual practice. And others hope that this very change will finally come to pass.

How would that happen? If the USA United Methodism became a regional conference like the African United Methodists would be a regional conference (or conferences), then we would each have our regional conference meetings. There would be a "super" General Conference that would meet to cover matters pertaining to all of United Methodism, but then regional conferences would have the flexibility to deal with matters pertaining only to them. Some people believe that, since African United Methodists generally see sexuality in more traditional Biblical terms, if they were not voting on American matters (this view assumes that rulings on sexuality would be limited to the American church, which is not a foregone assumption), then the vote would go the other way.

One of my friends did some quick math. Removing the African vote yesterday on the question of removing the "incompatibility" language regarding homosexual practice, the vote would have been roughly 2/3 in favor of removing the language to 1/3 against. In other words, the majority report would have passed and we would be changing some language in the Book of Discipline. Of course, this little hypothetical scenario assumes that Africans all voted the same way. Who knows?

So, General Conference 2008 has been crawling toward the finish line. The agenda committee today made plans to go a third session tomorrow, which means going into the evening. We were supposed to be finished by mid-afternoon.

Since I'll be on the road some time tomorrow, this post will be my last from General Conference (I like talking to you. Please keep sending your comments), so some final mullings. United Methodists who come to General Conference are deeply committed people. They are committed to their understanding and particular expression of the Christian faith.

Our mission - as we heard times infinitum - is to "make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world." This last part about world change is a new addition. Much, oh so very much, of the rhetoric (I don't mean that term pejoratively) has been about transformation. I honestly think that many people who serve as delegates to General Conference (at least many American delegates) see our work as something like a cross between the United States Congress and a religious United Nations. We talk about "legislation" (the petitions) and we make motions and amendments and points of order and speeches for and against.

We're also deeply activistic. We don't have much patience for measured theological conversation. Certainly, there was much scrutiny given to petitions and amendments. Maybe it's more accurate to say that we think such point-by-point theological interaction - with real questions and thoughtful, nuanced answers - needs to happen elsewhere, in a study committee or some other body. But then we turn around and make all kinds of theological claims (or refer to supposedly shared theological assumptions) during the conference. We listen to preachers make references to John Wesley and our Wesleyan or United Methodist tradition. We use the Methodist shibboleths - "grace" - and "If your heart is as my heart..." (this one really bugs me: have any of them actually read "Catholic Spirit?") So, there are lots of assumptions about some kind of underlying unity of heart or mission or something.

I really want to believe that, if you dig down beneath all our diversity and divided opinions, you'll find some ground of unity beside shared denominational name and organization. But I have to confess, I want more than assumptions. I think we have a lot of work to do. Maybe the new standing committee on faith and order will help us.

So, I'm preparing to leave General Conference with a deep sense of ambivalence. I've seen and chatted with some really great people - my fellow delegates included, but all across the connection. Besides, it's just plain fun to see friends from other places and catch up with them on what's happening in their lives. There's abundant fellowship and affection at General Conference. Once again, that sense of the deep commitment that we all hold in common. And we're pretty darn generous, too.

On the other hand, on certain issues (like sexuality), we are truly talking different languages. It's surreal: we often use the same terms, but they seem to mean something different, because the desired outcome is so often diametrically opposed to the aims of other people. But it's more than surreal. It's nighmarish. And it's not just about sexuality. I have the somewhat squeamish sense that even when we're talking about making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world, we mean vastly different (even contradictory) things.

Oh well...

The Evil Side of "Peace of Mind"

Here's a thought (and be prepared to wince): "Christianity is not a therapy for those who wish never to be upset." It comes from Robert C. Roberts in his book, Spiritual Emotions: a Psychology of Christian Virtues, (Eerdmans, 2007). You'll find it in the chapter on peace. It reminds me of a comment John Wesley once made about people wanting "a pillow for the soul."

We rarely admit it so candidly, but isn't this sort of peace pretty close to what we really want? Isn't this desire what we have in mind when we talk about the "peace" that Christians have in Christ? Isn't this why we memorize and quote verses like, "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything...and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding..."?

Now, I want peace of mind, too. Who goes around saying, "I want to be mentally tormented?" One of the blessings of walking with Christ is peace - a sense of settledness, even rest - that one feels even if one's circumstances are not peaceful.

But when we turn peace of mind into the ultimate aim (to see how much we want peace of mind, think about how much we talk about stress), we take what is good and twist it into something evil. The Christian's peace of mind starts to look suspiciously like "therapy for someone who wishes never to be upset." On the contrary, the follower of Jesus is supposed to share the sufferings of Christ. How else do we feel compassion - which literally means "to suffer with" someone? Consider the implications of Philippians 3:10, for example. I often think of what Bob Pierce, the founder of World Vision, prayed: "Let my heart break with the things that break the heart of God." Now that is a truly dangerous prayer.

Dare we assess the health of the Americn church on this question? Go to a Christian bookstore and see what is being published. Ask the manager which books sell the best. Check a Christian bestseller list. Are more people reading Joel Osteen or Shane Claiborne? (I hope you'll google for book titles.) Listen to sermons preached. How many times have you heard that God loves you no matter what, which is true, to be sure? How many times have you been challenged to risk sharing in Christ's sufferings?

If we truly take the biblical God seriously, then we have to ask, how long will God permit this Christian self-indulgence to go on?