Vote My Lambs

It comes as no surprise to most of us who have been active participants in the life of the Presbyterian Church that we are in a time of great division. While this division is generally understood as being rooted in the positions and orientations across the spectrum of theological discourse, what is equally important is that this has also moved out of the “soil” of its origins and now manifests itself as a chasm of distrust that comes close to paralyzing process. Thus votes grow ever closer and closer.

Parliamentary procedure using Robert’s Rules of Order can be a wonderful process and tool for effecting decision making. There are complex layers of rules and procedures that can offer a reasonable process for consideration of actions beset by the twists and turns of change and amendment.

Thursday evening the General Assembly was asked to act on the recommendation to divest funds from corporations that have been understood by the Mission Responsibility Through Investment committee to be complicit in the partition of Palestine by Israel. As part of parliamentary process a substitute motion was offered. Without providing a lesson in the intricacies of Robert’s Rules, the process for dealing with a substitute motion involves a sequence which first “perfects” the substitute motion, then debates it, finally voting on its actual substitution of the original motion. Clear?

The process unfolded over a period of two hours and culminated in a vote of 333 for substitution to 331 against substitution with two abstentions.

The assembly then took action on the new (formerly the substitute) motion approving it by a margin of 369-290-8.

Now, that would seem to do it, wouldn’t it?

                                        

Well, as I stated before, Robert’s Rules allows a process for all sorts of twists and turns, including “second thoughts.” Friday morning as the assembly reconvened, a commissioner moved that the assembly “reconsider the previous action which provided for the substitute motion.” Her rationale was that the vote “did not show the heart of Jesus, because the 333-331 vote included at least two votes which were cast incorrectly” one of which was hers.

Had the vote on Thursday evening been 333-331 against the substitute motion, for this delegate would that outcome have shown the heart of Jesus?

The assembly, to its credit, resisted comments like, “this is Pittsburgh, not Palm Beach,” and orderly proceeded to defeat the motion for reconsideration by a significant margin.

But the reality of our division remains – actions at this assembly, even some that would seem to concern issues that no one that might normally consider controversial, often have been accompanied by refusals to consider voice votes or consent agendas.

It also seems that irrespective of the outcome of any vote, the “winning” side very quickly states that the outcome is not only the “will of the body,” but the body’s “discernment of God’s will.”

Do we really believe the Holy Spirit always speaks through the winning side?

I guess then, for every wide receiver who has just caught the winning touchdown, in the perfunctory on-the-field-postgame interview and says, “I want to thank my Lord Jesus Christ for letting me catch this pass and avoid the defenders and win the game for my team,” there must be some defensive back, sitting on the ground, having been faked out of his cleats by that wide receiver hero, muttering, “Man, that Jesus Christ sure don’t like me.”

How can any side claim to discern God’s will in such divided votes?

Most certainly, our parliamentary process is important. But even more important is the notion that such process is to be understood as a tool for our discernment, not the discernment itself. And each time we forget that, we move just a bit closer to thinking that we can decide God’s will.

 

In John’s Gospel, after feeding the disciples breakfast, Jesus, responding to Peter’s declaration of love, did not say, “Vote my Lambs.”

  

Participation in Full

One of the great criticisms of electoral process in this country has been the over-use of, and seemingly over-influence of, advance polling. Sadly however, it also seems that irrespective of such criticism, we find ourselves in the midst of an ever-widening sea of one public opinion or political poll after another.

While on the surface it might seem as though having a “sense of a pulse” of the people might be prudent, particularly as it might shape decision-making, there also lurks a danger of making decisions either “to please the electorate” or “to insure the wind is at one’s back.”

Our Presbyterian way of decision-making often necessarily requires voting. But we also need to recognize that our voting process must be understood not as electoral process per se but rather as a way of affirming or confirming the discernment of the body. One of the peculiarities of our process at General Assembly is to seek counsel from “advisory delegates” – representing ecumenical partners, missionary workers, seminary students, and younger adults. These advisory delegates weigh-in on every action with non-binding votes immediately prior to the binding vote of assembly commissioners.

Counsel, as part of decision-making, seems a good thing. But it also seems to me that such counsel, when placed immediately before asking for a “final decision,” runs the risk of emotional response rather than measured consideration and assessment. Surely there can be other ways to receive advice or guidance that avoid this potential pitfall, especially in light of the fact that the ecumenical, missionary, and seminary advisory delegates in total comprise only 47 persons.

For the Young Adult Advisory Delegates (YAADs) however, whose total is 160, “other ways” might be more difficult find. So perhaps the entire notion of YAADs needs to be reconsidered.

One of the important arguments for YAADs lies in the very worthy goal to find ways to engage younger Presbyterians in the life of the governance of the church. But as currently constituted, YAAD responsibilities, which give voice in committee and plenary, but without vote, would seem to be counterproductive to that goal, because without vote (and the consequences that arise from that vote), voice can be used often recklessly and arbitrarily, especially in light of the idea that “if I can’t vote to make this happen, I’ll try to convince others to do so” – that the lack of franchise might lead to impetuous, ill-timed and over emotional speech – the difference between having something to say, and having to say something.

Suppose that, denominationally, we took a completely different tack in our course?

Imagine how the church might be changed if congregations took seriously the gifts of younger women and men and made concerted efforts to bring this generation – often lamented as a missing generation – into full participation in the governance life of the church, by routinely ordaining younger people into the ordered ministry of ruling elder, and not in any token way, or in any “junior elder” capacity.

And then, with this blossoming resource of young ruling elders, imagine how the church might change if presbyteries elected them to serve as assembly commissioners.

The fashion in renaissance art was to represent biblical images in then-contemporary contexts. Thus, famous paintings of Old and New Testament figures were sent in European landscapes and architecture. This fashion also extended to images of the biblical characters as well; and frequently, Jesus’ disciples were portrayed as fully grown men – certainly at least approaching middle age – which was part of the artist’s way of imparting a sense of wisdom and sagacity.

But the reality is that Jesus’ disciples were really quite young men, usually having been still living at home with their parents when they responded to Jesus’ call to follow. It is likely that some were, at best, barely out of their teens.

Full participation.

Resignation

When the full assembly reconvenes after days of committee meetings, the task to act on the numerous recommendations begins. This normally proceeds routinely save for the really contentious stuff. However Wednesday afternoon when the full assembly reconvened, things were anything but routine as the new vice moderator, Tara Spuhler McCabe, resigned.

The vice moderator is “confirmed” by the assembly by what is usually a pro forma process already having been understood as “elected” along with the moderator (think vice presidential “running mate”). On Sunday afternoon, the day after Neal Presa was elected moderator, the assembly took care of this pro forma piece of business as scheduled, but it too was not routine.

Standing Rules do not permit questioning of a vice moderator candidate during this part of the process. However, the assembly voted to consider suspending those rules (the resolution to suspend was not approved) because earlier this spring, Rev. McCabe, a member of National Capital Presbytery, “signed a marriage license in Washington DC for two women.”

It is important to note that this quoted, technical language is how this was reported. What this means was that on April 28, 2012, Rev. McCabe, as duly authorized to perform civil marriages under the laws in Washington DC, officiated at the wedding of a same-gender couple.

It is equally important to note several other things:

1.    No ecclesiastical charges have thus far been filed against Rev. McCabe – this was clearly understood to be a civil ceremony – and there has been no mention of her having purported this action as anything else

2.  Neal Presa, after being apprised of this, nevertheless continued to “keep her on his ticket” even as he was clear about his disagreement with her position on this

3.    There was never any “cover up” of any part of this

But all of this notwithstanding, this quickly became very, very contentious in the assembly, and the vice moderator resigned.

It was the right thing to do.

It is hard for us in the church to discern the boundary line of who we are called to be as faithful followers of Christ, and as good citizens; and it is hard for us in the church to understand how our ecclesiastical constitutional process, which seems so related to our nation’s civic constitutional process, must be shaped by our understanding of the Word.

This is why we need to cling to the idea of forbearance. These are complex issues which are made so much more so when we see only quick or simple solutions – like “well, civil society says it’s okay,” or “well, the Bible says this” or even “the Bible doesn’t say this.” Our journey in faith together as Presbyterians requires that we try to move together even as we disagree because we know that the ultimate resolution must come on God’s terms, not on ours.

Tara McCabe, in her journey may understand God’s leading to bring her to take a very different action than how others understand how God might be leading in their lives. But it is not these differing discernments which make her resignation the right thing to have done.

It is folly to try to be the organizer from the extreme, unless one wishes to organize only those who are in “lock-step” agreement. For a diverse body, movement in new directions, to new places, requires a discernment that honors and respects that diversity. It seeks to respond to the prophetic voice while understanding that the prophet’s place needs most often to be on the outside, from where the prophet’s calling, teasing and prodding holds our reflective attention and assessment.

Organizing churches was not the work of John the Baptist. It was the work of Paul.

And irrespective of either’s work, Jesus calls us to be together. 

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

There are always peripheral activities at General Assembly. Often they are things that relate to stuff going on in the host presbyteries that highlight local ministries and mission initiatives. Some connect with particular local histories. Occasionally a few might even be really best termed “tourism.”   

Last night in Pittsburgh was baseball.

Pittsburgh is clearly best known today a black and gold Steelers football town. But its longer heritage stems from the black and gold Pirates. At the turn of the century, (the twentieth not the twenty-first) the Pittsburgh Pirates were THE team in baseball. The Bucs won three consecutive National League pennants beginning in 1901 (although they also had ignominy of having lost the very first World Series to the upstart Boston Americans in 1903). They finally did win a championship in 1925 and then again in 1960 on a series winning homerun by Bill Mazerowski (an event that longtime Yankee fans will never forget – of forgive). After two title runs in 1971 and 1979, the Pirates have been one of baseball perennial losers.

The turn of this century however, brought a new ballpark to Pittsburgh – a wonderful fan-friendly place called PNC Ballpark which has perhaps the most spectacular city view from any stadium anywhere – and along with it, a glimpse of promise of potential glory days ahead.

The Presbytery of Pittsburgh sponsored a “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” night as part of their hosting of the assembly. It there is anything that might have the power to remove one from the doldrums and drudges of debate and “documentarianism,” not to mention the pit and prison from a plethora of parliamentarianism, it is baseball.

The Pirates best player is a young man named Andrew McCutchen, who at twenty-five years old, seems on his way to becoming the best player in the National League. McCutchen seems to have some of the same “I-know-it-when-I-see-it” intangible talent of Willie Mays, who, fifty years ago not only did everything on a baseball field well, but seemed to do all of it with abounding joy. McCutchen seems to play with this kind of talent, and this kind of joy. 

It reminds me of the wonderful line in Chariots of Fire, when the Scottish runner, Eric Liddle, in describing how he reconciles athletics with his evangelical Christian faith, says, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel his pleasure.

Baseball was for decades, clearly this country’s “game” if not its National Pastime. But equally true is the evidence that as we have become more and more technological and more and more impatient and even more and more self-important, baseball has been far-eclipsed by football in popularity. Football, with its technical jargon and industrial precision is much more reflective of those attributes. Of course, in trying to “justify” baseball and pronounce its continuing relevancy, many have been exploring the inner-complexity of the sport. Trying to dispel the idea that it is really much more than the bucolic, pastoral game it really is – where the unfolding of the drama is languid and luxurious. Where, even amid the occasional breathtaking moment, it is at its core still a diversion with a bat and a ball that can be played by children with great success and joy.

Willie Mays was once asked near the end of his career to comment on the intricacies of baseball. While not disparaging any of baseball’s many subtleties, Willie said that at its heart, baseball was a pretty simply game:

“You pitch the ball; I hit it.

I hit it; I run.

You hit it; I catch it.

I catch it; I throw it.”

According to lore, when Karl Barth visited Chicago in 1962, he was asked to summarize the meaning of his theological tome Church Dogmatics. Barth reflected for a brief moment and replied: “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

Simple.

Joyful.

Run and feel His pleasure.

  

  

The New Temples

Monday and Tuesday are committee days at GA. This is the time when commissioners work with the committees to which they have been assigned; considering, debating, parsing and amending the various overtures submitted by presbyteries, synods and denominational authorities.

Most of this “business” concerns arcane and esoteric stuff with little apparent connection or consequence to individual congregations or Presbyterians. This is the part of who and what we seem to have become denominationally that also seems furthest from ministry – the notion that Presbyterians are about rules and policies and structure and little about the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

It is how much of the world in and outside of our congregations sees us. It is a fair criticism, even if sometimes inaccurate.

The work week is kicked off by the General Assembly Breakfast (always with a capital “B”), where, in addition to the denomination’s version of the Feeding of the Five Thousand (albeit a bit smaller multitude but with way more calories and carbs), a keynote speaker, often from outside the denomination, presents some glimpse of a view of the larger church and its relationship to its time and its place.

This year’s speaker was Brian McLaren, who was billed in the GA Program Book as “author, speaker, activist, and public theologian.” Makes one wonder if there is such a thing as a “Private Theologian.”

Irrespective of his billing, McLaren is generally seen one of the “fathers and mothers” of the Emergent Church movement. This is a term used (along with others) to describe a transformation of the church across traditional boundaries and labels – whether those labels be denominational, or theological. This movement seems to fit well some who feel this is how faith can be best lived out in a “post-Modern” society.

All the jargon aside, McLaren’s point is really quite simple: the church as we have known it is pretty much an unsustainable institution; but that a faithful and religious life in Christ is still not only desirable but also longed and hoped for by so much of the world. And that denominations need to make room for the innovations in faith life that grow out of this desire, longing and hope.

He sees promise in the fervor and commitment of many young persons who are drawn into faith, including those in seminaries. But he warns that denominations are stacked to stifle them because of our insistence to, an at times, blind allegiance to structure and process that often has little relevancy to how we can best live out life as disciples of Jesus Christ in the 21^st century; and that our denominations are run now by a generation of Baby-boomers who refuse to cede authority without first making sure our successors will not tear down the temples we have built.

While ours is a presbytery that seems to be willing to foster a new era of generational leadership, I have heard it said that “one of the problems in this presbytery is that we have too many young people on Council who haven’t been around long enough to know how it is we’re supposed to do things here.”

Perhaps this is a temple that needs tearing down.

Truth and Spirit

Unlike past General Assemblies, rather than have an assembly-wide Sunday worship service, this year area Presbyterian churches invited commissioners and other attendees to worship throughout the city. This is quite easy here in Pittsburgh where there are perhaps more Presbyterian churches in the city than in the entire bounds of many other presbyteries.

This was a wonderful idea and I believe a wonderful experience for most of us. It allowed for women and men from all over the country to experience worship quite locally. While the usual pomp and sometimes “over-the-top” presentation of GA corporate worship can be no doubt inspiring, often it can come perilously close to worship-as-performance.

Some of us worshiped at Shadyside Presbyterian Church and heard a flat-out terrific sermon from Craig Barnes, who is generally counted as one of the leading lights of contemporary preaching. One way to express its big idea was this:

The arguments of our souls cannot be resolved by debate or structure or doctrine, but only through receiving the Spirit and Truth – Jesus Christ – which is God’s gift to us. 

Seems to me a pretty important and timely idea.  

During the celebration of the Lord’s Supper the choirs of Shadyside and Princeton Seminary sang an anthem composed by K. Lee Scott called The Tree of Life. The original text was written by Pescelyi Kiraly Imre, a pastor in a Reformed Church in Kamarom (Slovakia), for a Good Friday service around 1615. In 1974, the composer, hymnologist, writer and theologian Erik Routley paraphrased the original Hungarian text and gave us a remarkable vision of what it means to receive God’s Spirit and Truth:

There in God’s garden stands the Tree of Wisdom,

Whose leaves hold forth the healing of the nations;

Tree of all knowledge, Tree of all compassion, 

Tree of all beauty.

It’s name is Jesus, name that says “Our Savior!”

There on its branches see the scars of suffering,

See where the tendrils of our human selfhood 

Feed on its lifeblood.

Thorns not its own are tangled in its foliage;

Our greed has starved it, our despite has choked it.

Yet look! It lives! Its grief has not destroyed it 

Nor fire consumed it.

See how its branches reach to us in welcome;

Hear what the voice says, “Come to me, ye weary!

Give me your sickness, give me all your sorrow, 

I will give blessing!”

This is my ending, this my resurrection;

Into your hands, Lord, I commit my spirit.

This have I searched for; now I can possess it. 

This ground is holy.

All heaven is singing, “Thanks to Christ, whose Passion

Offers in mercy, healing strength and pardon.

Peoples and nations, take it, take it freely!”

Amen, my Savior!

God’s  Spirit and Truth – Jesus Christ

Take it,

Take it freely!

Running by Standing

Last evening, as the first major item of business, the commissioners elected the Reverend Dr. Neal Presa as Moderator of the 220^th General Assembly. One of the peculiar habits of hard-core Presbyterians is that despite all the formal orderliness surrounding the election of a moderator, despite the respectful tradition of standing when the moderator enters the room, despite all of the denomination’s venerated traditionalism, we reference our moderator on a first name basis – so from last night forward for the next two years, Dr. Presa becomes simply “Neal.”

Not surprisingly, we also make sure to use our own particular language for the entire process. While the office is clearly formally elected, one does not “run” for moderator – doing so would seem to move the office away from ecclesiastical matters to “common politics” – one “stands” for moderator. (Which brings some level of satisfactory response to the accusation that “Presbyterians stand for nothing.)

Every woman and man who stands for moderator does so knowing that success will radically shift personal and professional lives for the next two years. That along with the honor and recognition and respect comes not only hard work amid tremendously arduous schedules of travel, but the slings and arrows from those both in and out of the denomination who seem to see only that which is wrong with our particular part of the Church.  Irrespective of any disagreement any of us might have with a particular opinion or position of any candidate, we must remember the commitment made by each of them in choosing to stand for election.

The four Presbyterians who “stood” last night were representative of the diversity in our denomination:

            

            Four teaching elders

            Three pastors

            Three males

            Two baby boomers

            One female

            One member of a racial-ethnic group

            One executive presbyter

There was also clear diversity of theological opinion. While none of the candidates could be seen as extreme in any orientation (or frankly even approaching extreme), it was clear by their answers and statements that a pretty broad spectrum of theological discourse was present.

The process for election opens pretty much as one might expect. There are brief (mercifully!) statements from each of the candidates – none of them are ever particularly revelatory, instead essentially presenting a glimpse of a personality and overall style. This is followed by questions from commissioners each of which must be answered by each of the candidates. Often it is these questions which bring to the surface what are likely to be the “hot button issues” at the assembly.

Responses are brief, usually thirty seconds or less, and since it is usually understood that no moderator sets policy but facilitates the process for carrying out policy, the overriding concern is usually how a particular man or woman will represent the assembly actions over divisive and controversial issues to a fractured denomination that might be tenuously holding together at best.

Four ballots were needed to elect Neal. Our process relates more to political convention nominating than it does most elections – the assembly votes over and over on all candidates until one has received a majority. There is no “run-off” between the two top vote-getters. There is no threshold of percentage needed to stay in the race. What is interesting is that there are small shifts in successive ballots, and that these shifts occur with no politicking and no speechifying.

In the assembly only commissioners have the right to vote, but there are “advisory delegates” who cast ballots which are not counted for election. These advisory votes are cast and their results displayed immediately prior to each of the commissioner ballots. Three of the four advisory delegate groups are comprised of perhaps a dozen or two persons – theological students, ecumenical “partners” and missionary representatives – but the fourth, Young Adult Advisory Delegates or YAADs, are sent by each presbytery, so their number is significant. In addition YAADs have the privilege of speaking from the plenary floor – in fact several questions for candidates last night came from YAADs.

It is hard for me to reconcile the notion of having a large group of persons representing a particular aspect of denominational life potentially affecting the outcome of the assembly process while not having a vote that actually counts. The conventional wisdom (and folklore) is that “the YAADs always elect the moderator” – that at each assembly their advisory vote “predicts” the eventual outcome of the election. Last evening was no different. Each advisory ballot showed Neal far ahead, with a clear majority among the YAADs. Of course, he was also the most youthful and perhaps “hippest” candidate. Throughout the season of candidacy he was ever-visible on all forms of social media and at one point last evening he provided his Twitter and Facebook contacts.

How all of this might have affected the assembly is another matter for another discussion for another day. For now, the Presbyterian Church USA has a new moderator – we should rejoice that he is called to serve, and we should not cease to pray for him.

The Blast Furnace

The blast furnace, which has been around in some form for about 2,500 years, takes ore, fuel and limestone and by moving it through fire constantly fed with forced air, produces molten iron in a process called smelting. Not surprisingly, the blast furnace was a major contributor to the industrial revolution.

When one thinks of blast furnaces and industrial metal production, it is easy to immediately leap to images of black smoke and soot, overshadowing overcrowded streets. Of all the great metal-producing cities America’s history, none is more widely known than Pittsburgh, and none has undergone more change than Pittsburgh.

As late as the early 1950s Pittsburgh was a city of black smoke and soot – so much so, that business executives often needed to take an additional white shirt to the office for important late-day meetings. But through a civic clean air project begun at that time called “Renaissance” and a cultural revitalization effort called Renaissance II” in the late 1970s, Pittsburgh has been transformed into a place that consistently ranks very high is lists of “most livable cities.”

Renaissance, or resurrection?   

Nevertheless, the evidence of Pittsburgh’s Steel City history abounds. Because the city flanks the banks of three rivers, dozens of impressive steel bridges serve as constant reminders of its earlier industrial incarnation.

Think of the Pittsburgh Steelers. 

This is still the Steel City.

Perhaps coincidentally, but altogether fittingly, Pittsburgh’s geography also echoes its history. Downtown sits at the point of confluence of two Pennsylvania rivers – the Monongahela flowing west along the south and the Allegheny flowing southwest from the north. Called the “Golden, Triangle,” this point of confluence is where these two rives combine to create a third – the Ohio, which flows for nearly a thousand miles as the largest tributary of the Mississippi.

This confluence is a bit like nature’s blast furnace – but instead of producing molten iron from raw materials it produces a mighty river.

General Assembly brings together dedicated and committed women and men to a biennial point of confluence in a shared hope of creating something better and mightier. Of course, far too often what is created is really little more than re-packaging, re-branding, and recycling. But the hope is still there. 

It is our hope in Jesus Christ.

Perhaps we need to feel the heat of the blast furnace.