Perceptions from a Pewboy

The executive team of Western Pennsylvania’s delegation to General and Jurisdictional Conference (Eric Park, chair; Pat Morris, vice-chair; Sharon Gregory, treasurer; Bob Zilhaver, secretary) recently experienced a season of prayerful discernment concerning the work of our delegation. What emerged from that prayerful discernment was a collection of Guiding Principles that we believe could be both instructive and formative for the entire delegation.

At the first meeting of the full delegation (September 24th), the delegation perfected, honed, and, ultimately, approved these Guiding Principles.

The Guiding Principles are not a policy statement. Rather, they are an articulation of several deeply held convictions that, if embraced, will help our conference’s delegation to become more fully the delegation that God is calling it to be.

The delegation has been inspiringly diligent in its work and exceedingly gracious in its spirit. I am honored to stand alongside these women and men in the journey to which we have been called. Please pray regularly for the delegation as its members endeavor to honor the Guiding Principles, thereby incarnating the spirit of Christocentric community in which God calls the entire church to live.

Here are the Guiding Principles to which I have made reference:

Guiding Principles for Western Pennsylvania’s General and Jurisdictional Conference Delegation

Offered with humility and hopefulness by the Delegation’s Executive Team:
Eric Park, Chair; Patricia Morris, vice-chair; Sharon Gregory, treasurer; Bob Zilhaver, secretary

Approved by the entire delegation on September 24, 2011

1. Never lose sight of what a profound honor and privilege it is to serve the church in this unique capacity.

Someone said at this year’s Annual Conference, “Remember, the real honor is being elected to the delegation. But that’s the last time it will feel like an honor.”

That person’s point is clear—that the honor of being elected by our peers soon gives way to the reality of the long and hard work that is before us as a delegation. However, we disagree with the principle behind that point. We believe that the honor and privilege of serving on this delegation is an ongoing reality rather than a short-term affirmation. Our Annual Conference has entrusted us with the sacred responsibility of being an active part of our denomination’s most authoritative bodies: The General Conference and the Jurisdictional Conference.

Remembering the profundity of this honor will help to ensure that we will commit ourselves to giving careful and respectful attention to all of the issues that come before us in our shared work (as opposed to giving selective attention only to the issues that are of particular interest to us). A continued remembering will also help us to resist the temptation to become cynical, myopic, and insensitive when our work is hard, when our hours are long, and when the conferencing becomes trying.

2. Confession and repentance may very well be the most important spiritual disciplines that we practice as a delegation.

Confession and repentance form the doorway through which we enter a perpetual awareness of our personal and corporate sin, our brokenness, our imperfect discernment, and our desperate reliance on God’s saving grace. Such an awareness can help us as a delegation to maintain a spirit of humility in our work, to be more understanding and less critical of the flaws that we perceive in others, and to avoid the pitfall of becoming idolatrous about our own temperament, priorities, and convictions.

3. Commit yourself to loving your colleagues in the delegation.

Committing ourselves to the kind of agapic love described in 1 Corinthians 13 is paramount and foundational for us as a delegation. It will demand of us that we become attentive and sensitive to one another; that we learn to appreciate, value, and respect one another; that we allow ourselves to know and to be known; that we pray for one another as though lives depend upon it; and that we hold one another gently but firmly accountable. This love is rarely easy, but it is always worth cultivating.

4. The diversity of viewpoints and convictions within the delegation is not an obstacle to be avoided, but rather a communal attribute to be explored and embraced.

Within our delegation are diverse and deeply-held convictions concerning a variety of important issues that are facing the church. We do not deepen our sense of community with one another when we hide from our differences. Part of what it means to be a Christ-centered community is to listen to one another, to learn from one another, and to appreciate our diversity as a challenging but crucial portion of our mystical oneness in Christ.

Practically speaking, the members of the delegation will think and vote differently at times. Likewise, we will feel differently about the outcomes of particular votes. Our diversity in this regard makes it incumbent upon us to become relentlessly devoted to the practice of being sensitive to one another’s various emotions and caring for one another in the midst of them.

5. The Wesleyan Quadrilateral (Scripture, Tradition, Reason, and Experience) is one of our most beneficial resources as we contemplate the issues that come before us at General and Jurisdictional Conference.

We are not theological orphans. Rather, we are the offspring of a rich theological heritage that dares to demand of us that we view all issues through the authoritative lens of Scripture—a lens that we bring into sharper focus through the application of tradition, reason, and experience.

We will be called upon to weigh many issues over the next year, including the election of episcopal leaders for our jurisdiction. It will not suffice for us to approach these issues with a pre-established agenda. Rather, we have been called upon to enter the complex and demanding depths of theological discernment in the Wesleyan tradition.

6. We would do well to covenant with one another to be diligent in our work—which can become something healthy only if we also covenant with one another to be intentional in our playfulness.

Sabbath can be hard to find at General and Jurisdictional Conference. The hours are long, and so is the reading list. One of our challenges, therefore, is to generate “Sabbath experiences,” or even “Sabbath moments” in the midst of our shared work. Breaking bread together, exchanging encouraging words and notes with one another, daring to be silly, and helping one another to laugh at life’s absurdities will become nothing less than sacramental playfulness as our responsibilities begin to mount.

7. Remember that the primary task of the church is to BE the church.

Our primary mission is to become what we are called to be—a community so thoroughly reshaped by the reality of Jesus Christ that its people begin to think differently, prioritize differently, and, therefore, LIVE differently. In so doing, we offer a sanctified alternative to what the world has to offer, not because we are inherently better than the world, but because of the One who sanctifies us.

Our principle task in conferencing, then, is not to manipulate processes or to politicize dialogue. Rather, our primary task is to BE the church, to BE a community that dares to incarnate the Way of Christ instead of the ways of a particular government or any other governing body.

How might such a theological conviction shape the way we behave as a delegation? How might it clarify our expectations concerning our work and our purpose? How might our temperament change if we embraced the truth that, while our delegation may not always have the ability to change everything that we would like to change, our more important calling is to BE the church?

8. It is crucial that we understand ourselves to be both delegates and representatives.

This is an important distinction. If we were elected solely as representatives to General and Jurisdictional Conference, then it would be our responsibility to maintain the particular platforms and agendas bestowed upon us by the Annual Conference we represent. Our nomenclature here, however, is significant. We were elected as delegates—from the Latin, “delegare,” which means to depute, entrust with particular responsibility, or send on a mission.

If we were solely representatives, our task would be to uphold a pre-established agenda. As delegates, however, our task is to study, pray, fast, converse, and, ultimately, conference, all for the purpose of discerning our best understanding of God’s will and purposes. We have been delegated to something significantly more complex and dynamic than representation. In fact, we have been delegated to the hard, sacred, and, at times, mystical work of holy conferencing, ecclesiastical visioning, and communal discernment.

As delegates, our prayerful and attentive presence for the entirety of the time of conferencing is essential. Arriving late or leaving early compromises the integrity and effectiveness of our delegation.

It must be clearly understood, however, that, while our role as delegates is essential, we are also entrusted with the responsibility of being representatives of the life, ministry, and integrity of the Western Pennsylvania Annual Conference. At the General and Jurisdictional Conferences, we will be the only portion of our conference’s ministry that the other delegates will ever see. As such, it is our responsibility to conduct ourselves in a manner that honors the laity, clergy, and churches that we represent.

9. Pray without ceasing, since the prayer of righteous people is powerful and effective.

It is our shared responsibility to pray for one another (specifically and by name), to pray for our churches, and to pray for the Church. In fact, our ardent prayer will be the most vital thing that we offer as a delegation.

Prayer is neither the offering of a superficial wish list nor the trivial crutch of a feeble mind. It is rather the divinely appointed conduit through which the living Presence of God makes its way into human lives and human circumstances, sometimes changing things for people and other times equipping people for challenging things. If prayer is something this weighty and powerful, then we can ill-afford to be haphazard as a delegation in our commitment to prayer.

10. Find comfort in the fact that, irrespective of the particular decisions made at the General and Jurisdictional Conferences, Jesus will still be Lord and the Church will still have its mission: To Make Disciples of Jesus Christ for the Transformation of the World.

Remembering this will help us to keep everything in its appropriate perspective. It will also enable us to remain focused on the fact that, ultimately, our work is all about Jesus and the furthering of the kingdom that he inaugurated through his life, death, and resurrection.

Part of the pain of the sexual abuse scandal at Penn State is that it bears witness to the communal nature of sin in a culture that is often without a sufficient theological vocabulary with which to speak of such matters.

When we speak of sin, we often do so in truncated fashion. Sin, in the theological parlance of many, is a momentary decision and an individual misstep—a personal failure in which one succumbs to the “devil” sitting on the one shoulder instead of listening to the “angel” whispering into the other ear.

And there is something very right about this notion of individual sin. Clearly, any theology of sin worth its pillar of salt must take seriously the manner in which sin finds expression in individual decisions, personal transgression, and isolated failure. I am in no way suggesting that sin is without its individualistic and personal manifestations. In fact, every single one of our individual journeys bears witness to the reality that sin and personal decisions are often inextricably linked.

What intrigues me, however, is how frequently the Old and New Testaments speak of sin, not only as an individual’s failure (such as Peter’s denial of Christ and Judas’ betrayal), but also as a communal condition to which an entire population is mysteriously and painfully connected. In Genesis, for example, God brings the floodwaters upon the earth, not because of one individual’s transgression or one tribe’s sin, but because “ALL FLESH had corrupted their way upon the earth” (Genesis 6:12).

Likewise, the Old Testament prophets often reserve their most acerbic prophecy, not for individual transgressors, but for the disobedient community. Hosea speaks of “a land that mourns” with the sin of that land’s people (Hosea 4:3) and an entire Israel that has “played the harlot” (Hosea 9:1). Amos rails, not against individuals, but against the transgressions of entire cities and regions. Through Malachi, God accuses an entire nation of robbery: “You are cursed with a curse, for you are robbing me; the whole nation of you” (Malachi 3:9).

In the Decalogue, God’s promise that the sins of the patriarchs will have lasting impact upon the progeny “to the third and fourth generation” (Exodus 20:5) resonates only in a theological worldview that treats sin, not merely as an individual failure, but as a communal condition that spans time and lineage.

The Apostle Paul bears witness to the communal nature of sin when he describes an entire people whom God gave up “to a base mind and to improper conduct” (Romans 1:28)—a population that “know[s] God’s decree” but willingly disobeys it and applauds others who do the same (Romans 1:32).

Even a cursory examination of the events leading up to the cross provides powerful evidence of the communal nature of sin. Jesus’ crucifixion, after all, was not the result of one person’s decision. Rather, it was a communal discernment in which various parties participated.

It is worth noting that, in English, we have one word for it: “SIN.” The Old Testament Hebrew, by contrast, utilizes three different verbs and six different nouns to describe sin. Similarly, New Testament Greek uses a variety of words to describe the multiple segments of sin’s nature and character. It would be interesting to research whether or not our translational economy with regard to the subject of sin is somehow related to our truncated theology. We demand that a single English word cover the entirety of what our biblical ancestors used many words to describe. Could it possibly be that abbreviated linguistics inevitably lead to theological reductionism? Could it be that we need a bigger vocabulary for sin in order to help us to remember that sin is both individual and corporate, both personal and communal, both concrete and abstract?

Therein lies a major portion of the pain of the situation at Penn State. Circumstances compel us to acknowledge that the horrific acts of abuse allegedly committed by Jerry Sandusky (and I emphasize “allegedly” at this point in time) are merely the center of a wide network of brokenness perpetuated by an entire community. What might have happened if an iconic head football coach named Joe Paterno would have done something more than what the law required in order to ensure that a possible act of sexual abuse was fully investigated? How might further abuse have been avoided if a respected director of athletics and senior VP for finance and business (Tim Curley and Gary Schultz, respectively) would have made contact with the police? How might the university president (Graham Spanier) have unknowingly or unintentionally contributed to the brokenness? How might the leaders at Sandusky’s foundation (The Second Mile Foundation) have responded more attentively to the allegations? And—perhaps the most unsettling and unnerving question of all—How much of this communal sin rests upon the shoulders of an American population that has a long history of practicing idolatry with regard to its football heroes? Might our culture’s proclivity for elevating our gridiron icons be part of what led to a context in which those in power were inclined to sweep some very messy things under a carpet of institutional protection and preservation?

Might all of us, in the painful mystery of sin’s communal manifestation, be inseparably linked to a situation in which children were not adequately valued and protected?

We are eager to put a particular face on this alleged crime. And, if Jerry Sandusky is guilty, then his will be the face into which all of us will stare with particular gravity. As I type these words, however, I am painfully aware that Jerry Sandusky, if convicted, will not stand alone in the aftermath, much as we may try to isolate him. Rather, standing nearby will be an iconic coach, a host of school administrators, and millions of college football fans, none of whom are bad people, but all of whom have a penchant for becoming morally inattentive and unfocused when it comes to protecting our designated heroes. Such is the nature of corporate sin, I suppose. Though it may find primary expression through the horrific actions of one person, sin’s sustenance demands the supportive participation of a community.

I am holding a host of people in my prayerful heart today: the victims of this alleged series of crimes and their families; an aging Joe Paterno, his staff, and his players; the entire administration and student body at Penn State (where emotions have the potential to create more heat than light right now); and, yes, Jerry Sandusky, his family and friends.

I am also praying a personal prayer of confession, realizing that I cannot wash my hands of my connection to the communal sin that these circumstances serve to illuminate. The prayer I am praying sounds something like this:

“Forgive me, Lord God, for so frequently being far more passionate about athletic heroics than I am about protecting our children. Forgive me for the times that I have willingly turned a blind eye to a hurting child in order to preserve an artificial peace. Forgive me—forgive us—and cover us all with the transformational grace of a Savior who dared to proclaim that children are inseparably connected to the kingdom that he came to inaugurate.”

At the very beginning of the most famous sermon that he ever preached, Jesus offered what have come to be known as the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12). The word “beatitude” is a derivative of a Latin word which means “blessedness” or “blessing.” We call them the beatitudes because, in them, Jesus speaks of the revolutionary blessedness that is to be found in the kingdom of God.

The Beatitudes bear witness to the revolutionary condition ushered in by God’s kingdom. It is a “kingdom condition” in which God is able to accomplish amazing things in the lives of those who are poor in spirit and persecuted. It is a kingdom condition in which God moves powerfully through the work of the merciful and the peacemakers. Most of all, it is a kingdom condition that redefines what blessedness really means.

At the heart of the Beatitudes is a verse of scripture that, in many ways, ties all of the beatitudes together. That verse is this: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” What is righteousness? It is, quite simply, right living—living in alignment with the desires and purposes of God. Literally, the word “righteousness” in Greek refers to the state of being as we ought to be or, more specifically, the state of being as God created us to be. Therefore, when Jesus says that people are blessed when they hunger and thirst for righteousness, he is telling us that they are blessed when their most passionate desire in life is to live rightly, manifesting integrity and Christlikeness in their living, so that their lives become everything that they were created to be and everything that God wants them to be.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for this kind of righteousness, Jesus says, for they will indeed be filled.

What I appreciate most about those words is the way in which they provide for us a helpful vocabulary with which to speak about the saints of our faith. In some segments of the church, sainthood is a title reserved for a very few people who have garnered enough votes based upon their extraordinary accomplishments. In other segments of the church, however, including United Methodism, sainthood is something broader and more comprehensive than that. Worth noting is that, in his letters, when the Apostle Paul refers to the saints of a particular church, he is not making reference to a group of people who have been canonized or voted in. Rather, he is making reference to all of those who have given their lives to Jesus Christ and who are endeavoring to further his kingdom.

Biblically speaking, then, the saints are not perfect or sinless people. They are not even people who have accomplished something tremendous. Rather, the saints, to borrow Jesus’ vocabulary from the Beatitudes, are all those people who consistently hunger and thirst for righteousness for the sake of Jesus Christ and his kingdom. The saints, in other words, are disciples who do not simply flirt with right living. They hunger for it with their soul, they thirst for it with their spirit, as though living in alignment with the purposes and desires of God were the governing passion of their lives.

As we celebrate All Saints Day this year, who are the saints that you are remembering? What faces are appearing in your thoughts? Who are the people who have shown you throughout your life what it looks like to hunger and thirst for the righteousness of God? I encourage you to remember them well.

Thanks be to God for the saints of our faith who have hungered and thirsted for righteousness, many of whom now rest from their labor in a realm where their hunger has been completely satisfied.