to new beginnings.
/As I sit under a blanket with a hot cup of coffee to calm the chill in the fall air, Costa Rica seems like a lifetime ago and a world away. In reality, my little family and I boarded a plane to San Jose just two weeks ago. Our return landing in St. Louis, more than a week later, was a bit bumpy, as the winds of Hurricane Helene stirred up the evening air around the city. Our landing into life has been a bit bumpy too, as illness swept through our hometown. I thought in the days following our return, my brain would be able to process the events of those days in San Jose and what many have called a historic moment in Methodism.
But I’m not sure these days have brought the clarity I hoped for. Maybe that’s the brain fog of illness talking. Or maybe, it’s trying to articulate something rather indescribable. Great academics and pastors I deeply admire have beautifully summarized the events of that Convening Conference. Other friends and leaders captured the movement of the Holy Spirit in those special days. Maybe what’s hard to summarize is the way we walked in two realities simultaneously. One, so formally legislative, the other, moving in ways that can’t be defined or described with Robert’s Rules of Order.
In one reality, the Convening Conference of The Global Methodist Church accomplished the impossible, as even the legislative work walked in the reality of the Holy Spirit. With a clear spirit of unity in the room, a book of Doctrines and Discipline was permanently established - eliminating all “temporary” sense of the newly forming GMC. A constitution was adopted with enthusiasm for historic creed and tradition. A system for electing episcopal leaders was discerned, along with the kind of role they need to play in leading the GMC into a vital future. With ease, six new Bishops were elected and consecrated; representing the best of our body. Educational requirements for future GMC pastors were approved with a deep desire to require alignment with the Wesleyan Way. And new Mission and Vision statements were adopted to clarify and unite our work into the future. As you may have read in other reflections and articles by now, every action of the body was filled with unity and peace in a way only the Holy Spirit could do. It was truly Holy Conferencing.
In the other reality, another kind of work unfolded around us as delegates, Bishops, and volunteers worshipped in the fullness of the Spirit. Scheduled worship times became a corporate outcry for God to sit enthroned among us, not as a denomination, but as people hungry for the presence of God. Leaders with rare insight lifted the veil between heaven and earth and invited the body to personally surrender to the work of the Holy Spirit. Many were awakened for the first time, while others soaked in the reality of His presence in a fresh way. I’ve seen the outpouring of the Holy Spirit in that way, corporately and tangibly, at other kinds of gatherings. I’ve experienced that kind of awakening thanks to ministries like the New Room Conference or World Methodist Evangelism, or at my home church camp; but never at such a formal denominational gathering. This was truly a body personally seeking the presence of God first and a legislative body second. The Spirit delighted in that reality and poured Himself out richly on every part. I imagine many people are leaving speaking more to their experience in the Spirit than in the business we accomplished.
When I returned to my church on Sunday and tried to summarize in a few brief moments what happened at this historic gathering, I found myself suddenly struggling to speak, and stumbling over words I didn’t anticipate having.
In the middle of the sanctuary, as I attempted to articulate what happened at that Convening Conference, I unexpectedly felt a burden being lifted…one that I didn't realize was there. It didn't come to me while we were in San Jose, I only felt it when I began to articulate to the church what happened there.
We've been carrying a burden. Many pastors and leaders have been carrying it for years; the weight of responsibility in leading congregations, and people, through the reality of a divided church navigating an uncertain future. People watched the church they loved come apart. With many people facing deep uncertainty about how to move forward, leaders were tasked with helping others find their way. Like squinting through a foggy window, pastors and leaders were looking for signs and signals to guide our steps. Many carried the weight of responsibility to discern where the Lord was leading and hoped for just enough courage to point the way - all while feeling the weight of responsibility that people, and their love for the church, were held in our delicate grasp. As a pastor, I often feel the weighty responsibility of people entrusting their faith, and the churches they love, to us.
Through long conversations with parishioners and difficult informational sessions, I remember having to communicate oh-so-delicately about the future we all thought would unfold. Pastors and leaders did their best to summarize the reality and speculate about the future. In some instances, leaders were cautioned not to speculate as it may lead to unnecessary worry or misinformation. We did our best to translate what was happening, prayerfully discern, and communicate what the next steps likely needed to be to those entrusted to our care or looking for our advice. Many pastors and leaders suffered under that responsibility; hoping to do as little harm as possible while doing their best to find a way forward in a rapidly declining circumstance.
In 2019, I wrote a brief blog as I began to grapple with the reality that division was inevitable. I wrote, “The only church I’ve ever known is fighting an all-out war - taking sides, creating factions, and pushing agendas. I used to wish the Church wasn’t broken. Now…..I wonder how God will reveal himself in its breaking. If I believe that God can redeem all things, then I must believe that he can redeem this. That he can use it. And that somehow behind the fogginess of fighting God is working to restore even this.”
In 2020, I reflected on a moment with my Father, I wrote these words then, “I remember having a conversation with my father just a few years ago, as he approached retirement from the ministry, and I anticipated a life-long career in a declining denomination. He said that he felt sorry for my career in ministry. He said that he worried about the challenges that would lie ahead for young pastors leading the church past decline and division, and into a new future. He was grieving for me I think. He knew that I would face more difficulty in ministry than he did. It wouldn’t be long after that conversation that I found myself standing behind the altar rail at my childhood church, and behind his pall-draped casket, officiating his funeral all too soon. As I continue to grieve him, and the wisdom he offered, I find myself even more certain that my future in ministry will require leading through change, helping congregations readjust for a hopeful future, and an abiding commitment to take the church into the world.”
Last Sunday, when I began to speak words of reflection about our new beginning, behind that same polished alter rail where my Father's casket had been laid, I found myself unable to speak, gathering myself as I shared this truth; that what so many had hoped for, what many Pastors and leaders sought to discern, and invited people to trust them in, was in fact, true.
As I named before our congregation that my experience in Costa Rica confirmed all we had hoped for, I felt a weight begin to lift. As I articulated that what so many had hoped would be, was now a certain reality, I was simply overwhelmed. We didn’t deceive anyone. We didn’t mislead. There was no bait and switch. We did our best to step out in trust believing that the Lord was making a way. So many church leaders did the same, pointing their congregations to possibility on the other side of division.
I found myself overwhelmed with relief.
The Convening Conference of the Global Methodist Church, for me, was a precious, holy space of confirmation. God was proven there to be trustworthy and true. He had faithfully carried so many of us to the other side. Some of us found the "other side" in the Global Methodist Church. But I know just as many who found their way to networks, and independence who feel the same...the Lord led them safely through.
Even those who stayed with the United Methodist Church, post-separation, seem to be experiencing a similar unity and relief.
On the other side of the storm, the rain stopped, the water receded, and life could begin again.
During the conference, a moment of celebration was shared for Keith Boyette and his leadership through many years of stormy uncertainty. As Rev. (now Bishop) Jeff Greenway shared his reflections on Keith’s leadership, he remarked that it often felt like standing on the shores of the Jordan, uncertain of how the Lord would make a way across. And in that moment of convocation, delighting in the reality that He had.
As the fog lifts from those Holy moments in Costa Rica, I think I know what I'm taking with me. Most of my years of ministry have been navigated through uncertainty, wondering if my future in ministry would always be defined by the church's division. And in a way I haven't done in a long time, I'm breathing again, relieved of the weight of wondering and certain of a fruitful future.
I leave this Convening Conference quietly, and deeply grateful, that the Lord proved himself to be faithful again and thankful that we had just enough hope to believe in a new beginning.