A UMNS Commentary
By the Rev. Gilbert H. Caldwell Jr.*

4:00 P.M. EST Oct. 6, 2010

Leaders march from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln
Memorial during the 1963 Civil Rights March on Washington, D.C.
A Web-only photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Ten years ago, I was pastor of Park Hill United Methodist Church in Denver. While sitting in a staff parish relations committee meeting, I had a TIA (transient ischemic attack), a pre- or mini-stroke. Although the attack ended the meeting and sent me to the emergency room, I do not suggest that active pastors replicate my experience as a way to end difficult or boring church meetings.

Before the surgery, I shared with my family my hopes about the results of the operation. I wrote, “If it appears that the surgery will result in some residual disability, I want primary attention ... given to the preservation of my capacity to think, speak and write.”

Through the years, as I participated in and wrote and spoke about the black quest for equality and justice through the Southern freedom/civil rights movement, my sons had suggested, “Dad, you are out of your mind.” This time, with twinkles in their eyes, they said gently, “Dad, we hope the surgeon will find that you have a brain. Sometimes we are not sure.”

Since those surgeries and after my early retirement from the active United Methodist ministry in 2001, many people have received my unsolicited written musings. I have written so much since 2000 that a colleague from "back in the day" said, “Gil, while we heard and sometimes said, ‘Right on’ in the ’60s as a way of affirming what someone said or did, you seem to think it meant, ‘Write on.’” So be it!

Who will tell the story?

Pat Schneider of Amherst, Mass., a writer and teacher of writers, wrote what has become a guiding light for me. “The issue is not whether our writings will be political. If we are silent, our silence is political. If we write, our writing is political.

“No one has seen the night sky exactly from your trajectory. No one has loved exactly the people and places you have loved. Who will tell that part of the Earth's story, if you do not?”

In his last book, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. asked, "Where do we go from here—chaos or community?” That question and the answer are more relevant today than ever before. It has become clear, although we have not found adequate words to describe it, that there is much unfinished business of the mind and heart that requires work and commitment. We have changed without changing.

The Rev. Gilbert H. Caldwell Jr.

Many of the attitudes and actions directed at the poor of all colors and at lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people reveal that—consciously or unconsciously—some believe certain people do not fit their vision of what the United States is, or should be. We have been accomplices to or silent in the presence of those who intentionally screen some folk out and invite others in.

Time for the church to speak

United Methodist pastor and author Kent D. Moorehead’s words resonate with me: "There is a new world being born before our very eyes. There is no such thing as a Buddhist sky, a Muslim moon, a Jewish ocean, or a Christian Earth. God is not the exclusive property of any one faith.”

If religion and the state affirm the human equality and right to equal justice of all people—persons born to Republicans and Democrats, liberals and conservatives, fundamentalists and atheists, those of every faith and non-faith tradition—we also should be able to engage in the mop-up work of dealing with the residuals of the other “isms.”

Many persons have an intellectual and insightful depth that I lack; yet they remain silent on today's issues. I fear that our religious and other institutions are becoming “a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal” (1 Corinthians 13:1). Thus, here I am, one of the old men who “dreams, dreams” (Joel 2:28), who writes with the hope that the church and the institutions of all faith traditions would lead rather than follow.

*Caldwell, a retired elder of the Rocky Mountain Annual (regional) Conference, lives in Asbury Park, N.J.

News media contact: Barbara Dunlap-Berg or Tim Tanton, Nashville, Tenn., 615-742-5473 or newsdesk@umcom.org.

A UMNS Commentary
By the Rev. Tina Carter*

1:00 P.M. EST July 16, 2010

A photoshop illustration by Kathleen Barry. Photos courtesy
of NASA and U.S. Coast Guard, Creative Commons.

I am often appalled at the power that we Americans give to scientists and engineers. We assign to them almost godlike status. And why wouldn’t we? They have given us the Internet with instant access to everything, cell phones that can connect us to anyone anywhere, and the ability to reach beyond the gravity of our planet into the celestial beauty formerly reserved for God and the angels.

As a pastor, I carry the title “Reverend.” I wear my clergy collar when I go from place to place. But, consistently, it is not my theological knowledge or faithful practice that gains me respect from other Americans inside and outside church. It is the fact that the letters “Ph.D.” follow my name. It is my degrees in chemistry and a decade of work in environmental remediation that draw people’s dreamy adoration.

I am held to a higher standard not just because I’m a pastor but mostly because I am a scientist. Folks assume that I know the answer to any question they might think up.

With our increased demand and consumption of oil, with our increased demand for money and the greed that pervades our culture, and with the expectation of instant results born of the very technology that scientists and engineers have given us come no room for error and no offer of grace.

The people who were on the drill rig when the oil spill happened in the Gulf of Mexico and those who have sought a solution to this incredible error in judgment are nothing more and nothing less than children of God. Lacking godlike qualities, they are thinking and testing everything that they know to do.

Most of the environmental disasters that I encountered as a consultant were not the result of a failure in science or technology; they were the direct result of the increasing pressure on scientists and engineers to think that they are the solution to all the world’s ills. That’s too much pressure for any group of humans to withstand.

The Rev. Tina Carter

Scientists and engineers are well equipped to solve the small problems that occur, and the design of the planet is great at smoothing out small upsets in the balance of nature. But neither humans nor non-human creation are equipped to remedy major disruptions in balance.

We have created an idol of science. We need to get back to worshipping God. We need to quit seeing environmental disasters happen and pointing our fingers at those who are “godlike” enough to solve our issues — forgetting that every time we point one finger, there are four fingers pointing back at ourselves.

As a scientist, I can’t help but think that we need to slow down — slow down our consumption, our demand, our desire for instant results.

If everyone lived the way an average American lives, we would need 10 planets to sustain the world’s present population (www.myfootprint.org). Americans have a hard time thinking of ourselves as wealthy, but the truth is that if you make $25,000 a year, you are richer than 90 percent of the world’s population. If you make $50,000 a year, you are richer than 99 percent (“The Hole in the Gospel” by Richard Stearns). As a scientist, I long for us to lay aside the hubris that says, “If humans can dream it up — it must be good.”

As a pastor, I wonder when we will quit putting our trust in things. When will we say enough is enough? I have been earnestly praying for the scientists and engineers who are trying to repair the oil leak in the Gulf. I have been praying that they might persist in the face of this overwhelming task.

I have been praying for us, too, that we might learn to do what John Wesley taught us so long ago: Refrain from consuming. That is in part what he meant when he admonished, “Save all you can,” allowing us to give all we can so that folks around the world might have the essentials of life — the real essentials of food and clean water.

*Carter is an ordained elder serving Parker Lane United Methodist Church in Austin, Texas. She holds a doctorate in applied chemistry and has worked in environmental remediation.

News media contact: Kathy Noble, Nashville, Tenn., (615) 742-5470 or newsdesk@umcom.org.

A UMNS Commentary
By Bishop William Willimon*

3:00 P.M. EST June 2, 2010

Bishop Willam Willimon

How do we Methodists define effective clergy? We do it with one word: growth. Effective clergy know how to grow the church in its membership, witness and mission.

In North Alabama, we now have a “Conference Dashboard” that every church logs in on Monday morning and reports its numbers for that Sunday’s attendance, baptisms, professions of faith, offering and participation in mission. Anyone can see the numbers for any church in our conference over the past three years. The push back we have received in this endeavor has surprised me. In nearly every group of clergy in which I’ve discussed our work, there is always someone to repeat at least one of these mindless mantras: “It’s all about numbers, is it?” “You can’t measure clergy effectiveness, can you?” “So it’s come to this: putting the butts in the pews.” Yada, yada, yada.

There may be something to be said for some of these slogans. Except not in The United Methodist Church. We’re Wesleyans. That means we believe in the growth of the Kingdom of God. John Wesley had friction with the established church of his day, not only because of his vibrant Trinitarian theology, but also because of his refusal to limit his ministry to the moribund English parochial system.

From the beginning, Methodists were inveterate counters and numbers keepers.

Facing decline

Dick Heitzenrater tells me that in the annual minutes of 18th British Methodism, beginning in 1769, the Circuits that had fewer members than the previous year were marked with an asterisk. That year, it was 12 of the 48 Circuits. By 1779, that number had expanded to 18. The question was asked at the conference, “How can we account for the decrease in so many Circuits this year?” The answer: This was “chiefly to the increase of worldly-mindedness and conformity to the world.”

“We’re Wesleyans. That means we believe in the growth of the Kingdom of God.”

As of 1781, Wesley marked with an asterisk those Circuits that had an increase in membership, which was the case with 32 of them, or exactly half. This method was used for a few years until the percentage of Circuits that experienced increases in membership was 75 percent of the connection.

Our North Alabama Conference once had four full-time people who spent their whole day collecting numbers from our churches. These numbers were duly reported and printed in the conference “Journal.” Yet here’s the thing: Not one single decision was ever made, by the bishop or cabinet, on the basis of any of these numbers. It was as if we were all engaged in a studied effort never to notice any of the numbers we were so assiduously and expensively collecting. Of course, when the numbers were as bad as ours — over half our congregations had not made a new Christian in the past three years, a 20 percent decrease in membership — it takes courage to note the numbers.

Tell it on the mountain

Wesley frequently cites numerical growth as indicative of spiritual vitality. In his sermon “On God’s Vineyard,” Wesley celebrates that the London Methodist Society grew from 12 to 2,200 in just about 25 years. Heitzenrater speculates that Wesley was trying to spur them on, since their membership had slowed to a gain of only 400 new members in the latest 25 years.

Wesley sent pastors to those areas where, in his estimate, there were the most souls to be saved. He told his traveling preachers not just that they ought to read, but also put a number on it: at least five hours a day. Wesley also kept a close eye (with charts in the annual “Minutes”) on how much money was collected each year — for Kingswood School, for new preaching houses, for the pension fund, for operating expenses. The annual conference was invented, not just as opportunity for worship and fellowship, but mostly for the purpose of everyone rendering account and confessing their numbers.

“Wesley sent pastors to those areas where, in his estimate, there were the most souls to be saved.”

I can’t speak for other church families. But in the Wesleyan family, studied obliviousness to results, deploying pastors without regard to their fruitfulness, pastors shrinking churches, pastors keeping house among the older folks left there by the work of a previous generation of pastors, and churches having a grand old time loving one another and praising God without inviting, seeking and saving those outside the church, do not make for faithfulness.

“Numbers aren’t important.” Really? Tell that to Jesus and his parables of growth and fruitfulness. Tell it to the Acts of the Apostles.

Tell it to John Wesley.

*Willimon is bishop of The United Methodist Church’s Birmingham (Ala.) Area.

News media contact: David Briggs, Nashville, Tenn., (615) 742-5470 or newsdesk@umcom.org.

What’s your opinion about this topic? Please share your comments.

A UMC.org commentary
By Kathryn Spry*

4:00 P.M. EST May 26, 2010 | NASHVILLE, Tenn. (UMNS)

Kathryn Spry is the Tennessee Justice For Our Neighbors clinic co-coordinator at Hillcrest United Methodist Church in Nashville.
A UMNS photo by Ronny Perry.
View in Photo Gallery

JFON. A friend mentioned it to me. It sounded interesting—something about helping our neighbors—and before I knew it, I was totally immersed in helping immigrants get the legal advice they need.

Justice for Our Neighbors is a faith-driven ministry, welcoming immigrants into our churches and communities by providing free, high-quality immigration legal services, education and advocacy.

One Saturday a month, I serve as the coordinator for a free legal clinic in Nashville, Tenn. offered by JFON. I am able to offer hospitality to individuals and families who find themselves in need among strangers. I see volunteers give their time to gather the information needed to help hurting people feel safe. I witness children smiling and laughing while their mother’s face is filled with fear and confusion about her family’s future.

I hear kind words of comfort offered to our clients who are unsure that they deserve our attention and our help. I am surprised that I hear no complaints from those who have to wait for hours to see the attorney who may or may not be able to give them the news they are hoping for. I listen to volunteers who are so pleased to be able to offer their time and attention to these neighbors in our midst.

Justice for Our Neighbors has been a true gift to our community. We have been fortunate to have the assistance of gifted lawyers and dedicated volunteers. Each clinic is different. We may not know what to expect as far as the needs of our clients, but I can always expect the very best support from our volunteers.

Once we were in need of 15 extra volunteers for a special clinic. I was so anxious. Could we pull this off? We were overjoyed to welcome even more than the 15 volunteers we needed! Recently we all shared tears of joy as clients completed processes to be able to travel and visit their families in their home countries again. It reminded us all of how much we take for granted in our own lives.

Refugees are struggling to make a new life for themselves and their families. Many have endured multiple losses as they left the only home they had known to protect their loved ones. Our local churches, along with the support of the United Methodist Committee on Relief, can offer some help to ease their way.

For many years, Micah 6:8 was my favorite scripture. Now, at least one Saturday each month, I get to see my favorite scripture acted out by my neighbors, for my neighbors. “But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor, be compassionate and loyal in your love, and don't take yourself too seriously—take God seriously.” (The Message)

*Kathryn Spry is the Tennessee JFON clinic co-coordinator at Hillcrest United Methodist Church, Nashville.

A UMC.org Feature
By Pam Carter*

4:30 P.M. EST April 19, 2010

Editor’s note: Pam Carter left Haiti on Jan. 15, three days after the earthquake. She returned three months later. Here is her account of her April visit.

Pam Carter visiting with the children who attend the College de Freres school. Photos courtesy of David Johnson / www.silentimages.org.

The joy I experience when I see Donnette, the director of the Methodist Guest House where I stayed during the earthquake, is nothing short of deeply wonderful. I wonder if she will remember me. Yet, as I make my way up to the patio by the dining room, I hear her call my name, "PAMMMMM!" We clasp our arms around one another like long-lost friends and hug. When you share such a tragic and frightening experience with someone, there is a bond, a connection.

We walk around the grounds of the school at the Methodist campus of the College de Freres next door to the Guest House. Immediately after the quake occurred, I heard the screams of the schoolchildren from the window of the Guest House office where I stood until the quake subsided. As I stroll along the campus on this day, we see how the basketball court once used for the enjoyment of the children has become a community of tents as those made homeless by the quake seek shelter. We meet a woman who is busy ironing clothes at the edges of the tent community. A smile spreads across her face as my friend shows her the picture she took of her. Grabbing the phone, she shows her friends the image, and they all laugh and joke.

Around the campus, we see clusters of students gathered under tarps. I hear a child say, "Hello," attempting her best effort at English with a Creole accent. And then she smiles. Her classmates laugh as I respond to her, "Hello, how are you?" Children are the same everywhere, it seems. The children's desks are lined up under the tarps, and their teachers stand before them in front of a blackboard. The classroom buildings that stood behind them suffered only minor damage and have already received some repairs, but the children will not re-enter their classrooms because they fear the building will fall on them when the next aftershock or earthquake comes. The secondary school needs more extensive repairs. But the director of the school perseveres, hoping she will be able to pay her teachers this month. Few students are able to make regular tuition payments. The look of worry is there behind her smile.

Schoolchildren from the College de Freres enjoy skipping rope.

In the afternoon, we snake our way through the city in a minivan and see the destruction at the Presidential Palace. Even as the building is being dismantled, the beauty of the structure is apparent. Vendors line the sidewalk, hoping to sell a trinket of some sort. That seems to be expected for such a landmark. Right across the street, a large tent city looms with large numbers of the homeless working through the difficulties of life post Jan. 12. Children gather around us as we stop to make photographs. They play with sticks. Bits of rubbish have become their new toys.

Life returns to some kind of normal, but not normal. The fear remains, and the challenges are truly daunting. But I hear laughter, and I see joy. And I feel reconnected to what makes the Haitian people so truly remarkable—their resilience and perseverance in the face of such overwhelming odds. I am reminded again of how much they need our friendship. We meet briefly with the Rev. Gesner Paul, president of the Methodist Church of Haiti. He reminds us of the challenges his church faces. They will need many, many friends.

When I returned to the U.S. after the earthquake, someone asked me how Haiti could be "fixed" after this great disaster. I responded that in such a time of sorrow and devastating loss of life, I thought you would say to the bereaved not "How can I fix this?" but rather "My friend, I am so sorry for your loss. What can I do to help?"

Many here are asking that question: “What can we do to truly be helpful?”

*Pam Carter is Director of Senior Adult Ministries at Providence United Methodist Church, Charlotte, N.C. Providence United Methodist Church has been in mission in Haiti for decades.