Wow.  I’ve been bogged down with an awful lot of busy work lately.  Having a two-point charge, CPE, a wife with a large family, three active children, and a partridge in a pear tree can keep a fella running.  There have been days lately where there are three places I’m supposed to be at the same time.

So I’m sitting at Annual Conference.  I wondered what it would be like to walk into the building given my newfound notoriety.  I was aware that with my recent posts I was bringing not peace but a sword – and that has been affirmed.  I know there are members of the BoOM who agree with what I have stated, and there are those who disagree with me strongly and may have even been offended by my assertions.  I was approached by one member of the board who told me that the Bishop is dedicated to looking critically at the ordination process in our Conference and making the relationship between the board and candidates less adversarial and more helpful.

Thanks be to God.

It is a different experience to walk into Annual Conference without the degree of anonymity I used to enjoy.  Oops. Fame (or infamy or notoriety or whatever) has its costs, I suppose.  But I’m glad I rocked the boat.  A healthier conversation has emerged regarding the troubles candidates have in navigating the obstacles on the course to ordination.  Hopefully we can put an end to the dissemination of inaccurate, outdated information and begin to recognize the gifts, graces, life situations and experiences of individual candidates.

I’ve been asked if CPE was a complete rehash of my own experiences.  To be honest, it was very much like a refresher course in counseling and pastoral care.  It never hurts Albert Pujols to take batting practice or to work with a hitting coach, so it couldn’t hurt me to do more on-the-spot crisis ministry.  It was helpful to me in that regard.  And I have no doubt that some clergy candidates benefit greatly from the experience of CPE and should be required to take it.  I used it as an opportunity to practice the ministry of non-anxoious presence, to hone my “in the moment” prayer verbiage, and to sieze teaching moments with the other residents.  And our groups gave me a safe space to complain and moan about my ordination woes.  The experience did affirm, however, that I was correct in my appeals to the board.  The experience was, to a large degree, redundant for me.

Don’t get me wrong.  I liked it.  I met tremendous people.  I enjoyed learning the ins and outs of the hospital.  Two residents were Seventh Day Adventists, and I enjoyed having the opportunity to learn more about their denomination and beliefs.

During the first week I found a quote from Thomas Merton that I held onto for the experience.  The quote came from Learning to Love as he reflected upon his personal turmoil regarding his affair late in his life.  That quote got me through CPE, and is getting me through being a bit notorious in the big room today.

“Hence, the only thing to do is to take all of it with a good heart and joy, and not fear the pain that must come with it.”

Amen, Brother Thomas, Amen.

By aiming to speak truth to power I am claiming a prophetic voice, but I do so humbly with great fear and trembling.  I am not arrogant enought to consider myself a prophet or hero in any grandiose sense of the term.

When I first published my post about the Board of Ordained Ministry as a stumbling block, I did not know what to expect.  Did I just throw my hopes of ordination to the wind?  Did I speak a truth that needed to be spoken?  Did I write a post no more or less consequential than one of my goofy Friday Five or Blue Mondays?  Maybe all of the above?

What I have discovered in the time since then is that my voice, while certainly wild and intentionally prophetic, is not lone.  The comments and pingbacks to the original post have been numerous, and while I don’t have the readership of Zeray John or other higher-profile bloggers, I have created a stir.  And that stir has been overwhelmingly positive.

My closest friends in my ordination class are lending support to me both privately and publicly.  Some are sending letters of support to our Bishop. My buddy Robb posted a response on his own site.

One friend writes:

Will,

I think it was gracious of you to send your blog to the Bishop.  No one wants to be blind-sided.  I realize that you wrote it out of frustration and anger, but when you consider the way you have been treated, it’s really very civilized in tone…. Know you are loved and cared for and that God is making a way before you.

I was so sorry to hear of the stumbling block the BOM has placed in front of you…. I share your frustration.  I am sorry for my own contribution to these institutional sins, whether by commission or omission.  I am holding you in my prayers.

Back when I heard Zan Holmes speak, he responded to questions about Rev. Jeremiah Wright (because that controversy was in the news at the time) and Holmes stated, “I would really like to hear the rest of the sermon, not just those 30 seconds.  In the African-American preaching tradition, the sermon revolves around naming sin then proclaiming grace.”

Well I, for one, hope that’s not only in the African-American church tradition, but I can say that I’ve heard too many sermons that do one really well but forget the other.

In my last post, I named sin as I saw it.  I was harsh and angry.  And I won’t back down from it.  I believe that if the experiences of candidates in the ordination process is one of hazing, being bullied, or abused then somebody has missed the mark somewhere.

I feel sick to my stomach when I read Matthew Kelly’s comment to my previous post.  He writes,

“In my own conference, there was a slide during the day long orientation to the BOMEC application process that literally said “we are trying to remove notions of ‘grace’ and ‘hope’ from this process”

Okay kiddies.  Get out your hymnals and open to Amazing Grace.  Tear that page out, wad it up and throw it in the trash. Grace Greater Than Our Sin?  Same Deal.  My Hope is Built?  Burn it.  No hope.  No grace.

No gospel.

I can understand a degree of stringency about deadlines and faithfulness to the process – but to intentionally remove all notions of grace and hope? That’s about as un-Christian as you can get.  And worse, there was no indication in Matthew’s comment that anyone stood up to say that was wrong.

I understand that the Board’s primary responsibility is to the Annual Conference and to the churches served by the Conference.  But far too often it seems we forget about that last part.  I’ve heard lots of pastors complain that all entities within the Conference exist to serve the Conference.

I’m not asking anyone to hold my hand and baby me through the process.  I’ve told the board on more than one occasion that my personal growing edge weakness (let’s call a spade a spade) is in administration.  If the board’s primary purpose (actually, sole purpose according to someone very well known within the denomination) is to make pastors for our churches, then they would look at our individual strengths and weaknesses and require us to fill in those gaps.  For many young pastors, CPE is a great option and perhaps a necessity.  For others (like me), some administrative apprenticeships would better serve to make us effective pastors for the Annual Conference and the churches it serves.

I do not believe that the board is out to get me.  I do not believe that the people who serve on the board are evil or bad.  I do not believe that they conspire to make us fail.  But I do believe that they may have forgotten that young, energetic, effective leadership is exactly what the UMC needs right now.  The way the process is being handled now, it is serving to take young, effective, energetic pastors and turn us into bitter, jaded, cynical, angry pastors.  Something in the system is sick with sin.

But God’s grace is good.  God’s grace is redemptive.  Don’t remove grace from the process.  We are people, not checklists.

With sin, we’re in a heap of trouble.  Without Grace, we’re screwed.  If we shut grace out of the process, our proclamations of grace from the pulpit will ring hollow and serve only as clanging gongs or noisy cymbals.  Redemption is only possible through God’s grace.

This year at Annual Conference we had a spa. Here is a photo of me receiving a scalp massage from the Bishop.

Not really. This is the moment that Bishop Sharon Brown-Christopher laid hands on me for commissioning. This is actually a photo of the projected image from the video screen. That was an awesome moment, and in the brief time I’ve spent with the commissioned class of 2007 I am certain that God is at work in our lives and in the United Methodist Church.

I think, though, the most awesome part of the commissioning-ordination service was the Eucharistic celebration. The Bishop led the Great Thanksgiving, broke the bread, and those of us being ordained and commissioned served the body of the conference. All of the older Elders (which I guess is only not a really redundant phrase in this context) looked really proud of us newbies. There was a sense that the Spirit was really moving during those moments.

All around, I was impressed that our debate did not get as far out-of-control as it often does, say, in the blogosphere. There were certainly fun moments, but for the most part it was rather irenic. The process of electing General Conference and Jurisdictional Conference delegates was really cumbersome and took up a colossal amount of time.

For the last several years, the pastors have suggested that we hold Annual Conference on Wednesday through Saturday so that we could be back in the pulpit on Sunday morning. Being gathered for Sunday worship with the other pastors of the conference is awesome, but it is taxing on the local congregations – there just aren’t enough retired pastors and lay speakers to go around. However, I was physically drained by the time I took the pulpit yesterday morning. We really need to end by noon or one on Saturday. Most of us have a loooong drive (Peoria is at the northern end of the conference map, and for those of us farther south – and there really is no straight shot there) the drive is taxing. Especially if there are kids in the car. I preached though I kind of felt like a zombie (making this a zombie-in-the-pulpit post for John). By 5:00 I was down for the night. I feel a lot better today. Next year I’m gonna do my blogging from the floor.

Photos: Top – the moment of commissioning.
Middle – the sign my brother and son placed on their table at the service.
Bottom – My wife, my sons and some commissioned goofball. Photo by my mom.

At left you can see a gorgeous, unedited cameraphone snapshot of the floor of IGRC at the Peoria Civic Center in all of its semi-Orwellian glory!

Okay, that comment was uncalled for and purely in jest. It’s not that depressing and Bishop Christopher is nothing like Big Brother, but the room does seem kind of gray and empty for worship. Great for business, drab for worship. The walls are bare and some large, well made banners would make a great, inexpensive augmentation to the space for worship.

Day two was marred by technical difficulties with the voting process for General Conference. The first ballot took much longer than expected to tally, and when all the votes were counted there were problems with the tabulation that rendered the first clergy ballot invalid. Since I don’t have a vote I didn’t stay in the big room for a lot of that process and instead went to the Cokesbury stand where I purchased Vital Signs by Dan Dick. It looks like a pretty great book so far.

I ran into some old acquaintances, including the folks who serve the Wesley Foundation at SIU-C. They took a financial hit this year (like every year) and wonder whether they’ll be able to afford air conditioning this summer. I’ve seen some of my old Eden classmates. I’ve prayed for less business, less arguing and more “holy conferencing.”

We passed a resolution that allows the conference to purchase a new residence for the Bishop. Last year it was voted down overwhelmingly but this year it passed handily because the residence could be purchased at no cost to the local congregations. While a new residence for the Bishop is well and good, it leads me to ponder a conversation or nine that I’ve had with some other pastors who are more experienced than I am. One said that it’s a shame when younger pastors with children and families tend to serve smaller, poorer churches with smaller parsonages with fewer bedrooms and more maintenance issues while many older pastors whose children have moved out live in larger, newer parsonages. It would be great to see the conference take on a mantle of stewardship for smaller parsonages and help out churches that have difficulty maintaining, upgrading and repairing theirs. Within the connection it is vital that we view stewardship as a two way street; in order to be good stewards of the connection the local congregations are called to be stewards of the conference and the conference is called to be faithful stewards of the congregations.

Yesterday was also the sad day, with the brief memorial for churches in our conference that have closed.

Today will largely be focused on our connection with the annual conference of Liberia and with Africa University. Having been to West Africa, I look forward to that, and I feel a profoundly deeper passion for the continent and its people.