Perceptions from a Pewboy

Hello, boys and girls. Uncle pewboy here, praying that September is going well for all of you and that you have enjoyed the Steelers’ first two victories.

The man in the photo above is none other than Ziggy Stardust, the iconic and thoroughly androgynous rock and roll persona created by David Bowie back in 1972 (a year in which some worshiped polyester as a deity). Bowie’s Stardust has been on my mind in recent days because one of the song’s that he/she sang most frequently was “Changes” (from the 1972 Bowie album “Hunky Dory”). I find myself singing the chorus of that song even as I type these words:

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Turn and face the strain.
Ch-ch-changes.
Gonna’ have to be a different man.
Time may change me, but I can’t trace time.

Personally, I am finding evidence of ch-ch-changes wherever I look these days. Today, for example, September 16th, marks my mom and dad’s 59th wedding anniversary. For 59 years, Lura Jean and Ferd Park have loved and nurtured one another in the covenant of marriage. It is hard for me to comprehend the mathematics of their blessed 59-year union, but the calendar doesn’t lie. It is quite an achievement. I am proud of them. I love them. I thank God for their marriage. And yet, their anniversary also reminds me that life is very different for them than when they walked down the aisle of First United Methodist Church in Homestead, Pennsylvania 59 years ago. Could they have imagined back then that the “for better or worse…in sickness and in health” portion of their vows would demand of my mom that she become the primary caregiver for a husband with Alzheimer’s Disease? Probably not. But that is their reality today. They embrace that reality with dignity, tenderness, grace, and laughter, loving one another all the more through the ch-ch-changes (even the painful ones).

When I say that Mom and Dad are who I want to be when I grow up, I mean it.

Beyond parental changes, I am also confronted with the reality of vocational change. About 12 days ago, over a wonderful meal that began with hummus and ended with piping hot java, Bishop Tom Bickerton informed me that, effective January 1 of 2009, I will be the District Superintendent of the Washington District. (To quote Ziggy Stardust, “turn and face the strain, ch-ch-changes!!!”).

If you are a not a United Methodist (and, perhaps, even if you are), you may have no interest whatsoever in who or what a district superintendent is. More sympathetic I could not be. In fact, even the response of some of my colleagues in ministry to the news of my new appointment has been revelatory. Many have responded with a whispered word of “congratulations,” spoken with a dubious tone that implied the presence of a question mark.

“Congratulations?”—which, of course, can be translated this way: “Uh, I want to celebrate this affirmation of your ministry, but, given the nature of the district superintendency, I’m not sure that ‘congratulations’ is the right thing to say.’

Such a tone, I suppose, bears witness to the postmodern skepticism of the institutionalism that many believe the district superintendency represents. In the eyes of many, the district superintendents are little more than denominational bureaucrats who tow the party line, cater to the whims of the bishop, put out ecclesiastical fires on occasion, and show up for the yearly administrative dinosaur known as the church conference. Oh yeah, and they are also the backroom negotiators who shuffle around the pastors in that inscrutable segment of United Methodist polity called the appointment system.

Does that about cover it?

Personally, I am currently praying my way into an understanding of the district superintendency that moves beyond the sinking sand of cynicism to a more Christ-honoring spirit of hope and vision. District superintendents, at their best, are instruments of Christocentric accountability who hold pastors gently but firmly accountable for their ministry but who also allow themselves to be held accountable by their pastors. At their best, they are leaders and facilitators of worship who dare to see worship as humankind’s only appropriate response to God’s majesty and who diligently create opportunities for their brothers and sisters on the district to connect with one another in the context of the communal adoration of God.

They are generators of outreach and mission who work with other visioners to create district-wide opportunities for hands-on ministry beyond the walls of the church building.

They are builders of redemptive relationships with their pastors and laity, who comfort the afflicted with gentle words, who afflict the comfortable with directive words, who listen quietly when no words are necessary, all the while cultivating the kind of attentiveness that honors the integrity of those they lead.

They are practitioners of the spiritual disciplines, who pray for their pastors and churches, who study the Word and meditate upon its revelation, who preach the Gospel with passion, who fast for discernment (in order to remind themselves that they are hungrier for God than they are for food), who worship as though their lives depended on it, and who commit themselves to holy conferencing (both with the churches on their district and the cabinet).

The bottom line, of course, is that I can’t afford to be cynical about the office that I have been called upon to occupy. And so, I choose hope and vision over cynicism. I’m just goofy enough to believe that the district superintendency has something important—even crucial—to offer to the ministry of the people called United Methodist. If I can be some small part of that offering, then to God be the glory.

My emotions concerning this new appointment are deeply mixed due, in large part, to the ongoing health crisis of my dear friend and mentor, La Mar Carlson. I have known La Mar since 1990. His pastoral ministry has been an inspiration to me since I was a seminarian. His intelligence has challenged me; his vision for the church has humbled me; and his love for Jesus has reminded me of what discipleship looks like when I’ve been tempted to forget. La Mar has provided stellar leadership as the Washington District Superintendent for the last four years. The fact that his current health will not permit him to continue in this ministry for which he is so abundantly gifted breaks my heart. I have cried over it more than once.

And yet, because I know that La Mar would settle for nothing less from me, I am approaching the district superintendency with a sense of excitement and wonder. I am profoundly honored to serve the church in this new way, especially since I am following a leader in La Mar who served with such noteworthy faithfulness and integrity.

The Washington District feels like home to me. Back in 1966, while my dad was serving as the pastor of West Washington United Methodist Church, I was born into the Washington District. Three months later, I experienced the baptismal water there. Back in 1992, as a returning seminarian, I was appointed to the Washington District (as the pastor of First United Methodist Church of McDonald, Pennsylvania). Back in 2004, after the elimination of the Pittsburgh East District, Central Highlands Church (my current appointment) was warmly welcomed and embraced as a new congregation to the Washington District.

I have grown to love the people of this district. I have grown to appreciate the wondrous accommodation of diversity that enables the Washington District to manifest the ministry of God’s kingdom from Greene County all the way to the airport corridor. I cannot help but see the exciting potential for ministry on the horizon, especially given the population growth that is currently taking place in many segments of the district. I am humbled, challenged, and meaningfully unsettled by the opportunity to become the superintendent of a district that has been so instrumental in my personal walk with Jesus Christ.

Please pray for me. Pray for my wife, Tara, who is as awestruck by this transition as I am. Pray for the dear souls at Central Highlands Church, who have been our family for the last seven years and from whose embrace it will be very painful for us to leave. Pray for La Mar and his remarkably attentive wife, Rachel, as they move into a new season of life and ministry. Pray for our Bishop and Cabinet as they ponder all of the critical decisions that are before them to make.

And, along the way, don’t forget to allow yourself to be completely undone by the holiness and hugeness of God amidst all of your ch-ch-ch-ch-changes.

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