Monday, September 27, 2010

The First Sin

Through the centuries, the church has often pointed to Eve eating the apple in the Garden of Eden as the first sin. I'm not so sure. I have always felt like the first sin was Adam standing back in silence when he knew she shouldn't eat the apple of that tree. (After all, the command not to eat of that tree was given directly to Adam). But there he stood, in silence, as Eve tries to match wits with the snake. And then, without her partner so much as whispering a caution, eating the apple.
Go ahead and blame the woman if you want to. But I think the sin that has caused more heartache, grief and regrets is Adam's sin: the sin of silence--the sin of not speaking up when you know something is wrong.
Today, one of our United Methodist Churches held a funeral for one of our Christian brothers who knew what it was like to live with the regrets of silence. Woody Cooper was a student at Harding High when, on September 4, 1957, Dorothy Counts became the first black student at the school. The picture of this history-making day flashed around the world -- a sea of white students taunting her, throwing things at her, spitting at her. And Woody Cooper was in that picture.
He wasn't one of the students who threw things or spit at her. But, through the years, he carried a burden of regret that he hadn't stood up for her on that history-making day. Nearly 50 years later, Woody's Sunday School teacher, Sam Smith, was leading a lesson about the sins of omission. The teacher asked if anyone had a sin of omission on their heart. Woody raised his hand and said, "Dorothy Counts". That's when his Sunday School class learned that Woody had been one of the white boys in the world-famous picture on the steps of Harding High School. The next day, Woody Cooper tried to contact Dorothy Counts and apologize.
Their correspondence took some time, but they became friends. The night before he died, she visited with him in the hospital. Today, Dorothy Counts was the one in the crowd -- at his funeral.
49 years is a long time to live with regrets.
I am wondering if the story of Woody Cooper can give us courage to avoid those regrets--to silence our fears instead of our voices; to take a stand for what is right when it matters most. The story of the friendship of Woody Cooper and Dorothy Counts shows that God is working for redemption through all things. But there are moments in history that can't be reclaimed. What might the picture have been in 1957 if Christian white students spoke up and stood up and protected their black sister as she integrated Harding High School? That moment will never come again.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Such a big difference...

This is the time of year that, when pastors ask what season it is during Children's time, some little one is going to say "Football!" As schools resume and summer turns into fall, the wonderful world of high school, college and professional football cranks up. Saturday afternoon, I watched the Duke/Alabama football game (or, at least I watched as much of it as I could bear). If Duke was going to be brave enough to play the #1 team in the nation, I felt like I should watch. I noticed something. At halftime, when the TV commentators are walking the coach off the field, the Alabama coach -- whose team was ahead by a trillion points--said they were going to have to work harder toward the high standard they set for Alabama football.
Hmmm. There was no smug "we are killing them, look how good we are" kind of attitude. The coach went into the locker room saying that they had things they needed to work on, things they needed to improve, things he needed to bring to their attention.

I contrast this attitude with the attitude I find in too many churches -- which is an attitude of being offended at the suggestion there is anything they might want to improve. Somehow, it's an insult to many of our church members that they might need to improve their welcome, improve their stewardship, do a better job of reaching out to their community, etc. Instead of churches adopting the attitude "We have a high standard and we are not going to stop until we're the very best we can be", too many churches have the attitude "We are doing just fine. Don't insult us with the idea that there are ways we need to change or improve."
Amazing. And the stark contrast is even more heart-breaking because the statistics show that with the competition of the culture shifts, many of our churches are NOT doing just fine. They are declining.
Make no mistake about it: Alabama has a great football team this year. But they are great because they don't go around congratulating themselves on how great they are. They are great because they are working at it. They don't take things for granted (even an opponent like Duke) and they keep looking for things they can do better. I'm not a Crimson Tide fan, but I am a big fan of the attitude that makes them great.
United Methodism's founder and first coach, John Wesley, was passionate about a constant need to grow for Christians. His teaching about Christian perfection is one of the unique hallmarks of United Methodism. John Wesley would not recognize a church that said, "We are doing just fine. We don't need to revitalize. We don't need to change." He would absolutely not understand any Christian who said, "Leave us alone. We like things just the way they are." John Wesley had a divine impatience that fueled a constant drive to growth--a more perfect love. United Methodists were ALWAYS geared to grow in holiness.
The United Methodist way -- whether a church is thriving or struggling--is to say, "What can we do better? How can we grow in our faithfulness to Christ? How can we be more effective in sharing God's love with the world?" A church that just wants to congratulate itself is in deep trouble spiritually, no matter what the numbers are. If football teams and coaches understand the constant need for improvement, shouldn't our churches--with the most important mission in the world--be thoroughly committed to being the best we can be for Christ?

Sunday, September 5, 2010

The Melody Matters

Two years ago, life took an unexpected turn.
Just weeks into a drastic change of ministry appointment, the discovery of a malignant thyroid tumor took my topsy turvey life and threw me a whole new learning curve. One piece of bad news led to another. Grace preceded me at every turn. At the end of the surgery, my brilliant surgeon told my family that, after 5 hours of tedious work, he had not been able to get all the cancer and, further, that damage had been done to my vocal chords.
I could go through additional treatment for the cancer. I have and will continue to go for that. But my voice? Only time would tell.
Time told us that my vocal chords had been significantly damaged. My speaking voice came back. But my singing voice was gone. For months, I cried every time I tried to sing the hymns when I went to worship. Nine months later, when I asked my surgeon if I would sing again, he didn't lecture me about how grateful I should be for the speaking voice I had considering the circumstances. But he didn't mislead me either. Would I sing again? "No." Then, seeing the expression on my face, he said, "Well, let's do a consult with the Voice Clinic."
He didn't tell me that a consult with the Voice Clinic included swallowing a camera which verified and recorded the damage. Yikes. But that consult led to specialized voice therapy which basically told me that if I would be diligent about breathing differently, doing voice exercises every day, relaxation regimens, drink impossible amounts of water, and had faith in my damaged voice that I would be able to sing again. No small challenge.
Through following all (or most -- or many--) of these recommendations, I have learned to develop a decent alto voice. After all this work and effort, singing again should be thrilling. But often, it is miserable.
My frustration with singing alto doesn't have to do with my voice or my ear for harmony. To sing alto, you have to depend on others to really sing the melody. Because no matter how strong your voice is or how good your ear is, if the melody isn't clear, you can't harmonize. The melody doesn't make the sound of all the parts. But the clarity of the melody is what makes it possible for the other parts to add the harmony. When the melody is not clear, all my work goes out the window. Voice or no voice, it sounds awful.

I believe the same thing happens in the church in terms of leadership. The leadership of the church -- lay and clergy--are the ones to sing together the melody of mission for Jesus. The importance of the unity and clarity of this melody cannot possibly be overestimated. Because if the melody of Christ-centeredness is not clear, the mission of the church will be lost and the turmoil of power struggles and resistance will inundate the church.
That's why I have been telling my Nominating Committees that they are crucial partners in the mission of the local church. If they take their job as shuffling names on empty lines instead of evaluating the positive influence of laity in their congregations, the church will be derailed from its mission for Christ. I have told them that without constructive, cooperative, teachable lay leadership, the church will not move forward even with the most gifted pastor.
Lay leadership has long been a priority in United Methodism. Our appointment system is designed to insure that churches are not built around their pastors. And our committees on Nominations and Lay Leadership hold the sacred -- and powerful--and challenging trust to nominate lay leaders who are faithful to their membership vows, Christlike in their actions and positive in their influence in the church.
I have told Nominations members that any lay person who is constantly critical and openly oppositional to the pastor disqualifies himself/herself from leadership. To give or sustain leadership positions to people who are not constructively working with the pastor is to ensure and entrench turmoil in the church. Clergy and lay leaders do not always need to agree. But there needs to be the one central melody of focus on the mission of the church, mutual respect and Christlike behavior. We have a multi-layer system of accountability for the clergy in these areas. And now, during this fall season, we depend on Nominating Committees to put the mission of the church above everything in their important work.
Unless the clergy and laity are singing the melody of Christ first with strength and clarity, no one else can provide the harmony and beauty that lifts the heart and inspires the faith. We are in this together or not at all. There is only one melody. If the lay leaders and clergy aren't singing the same melody, the church will move into the new year profoundly crippled.
Pray for those who sing the melody. Everyone else depends on them.