But the greatest of these is love?

what is loveThe famous “love chapter” of the Bible – the one you hear at every wedding – ends conclusively, “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Of all the statements in all of Scripture, this may be the one our culture is quickest to embrace. Love trumps all. You’ll hear plenty about how at the end of your life, the amount of money you made, or how high you climbed the corporate ladder, or how much you achieved doesn’t matter all that much.

What matters? How much you loved and were loved.

I frequently see this in the church, too. God is love. Jesus was the ultimate example of love. Jesus even says at the last supper, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

And so, anything that threatens unity, peace, acceptance — in a word, anything that doesn’t promote love — is just downright unChristian. For that matter, anything that makes anyone feel sad or suggests that they might have done something bad has no place, either. To make someone feel sad or bad surely isn’t loving.

Especially in the recent homosexuality debate, a growing contingent inside the church — and virtually everyone outside the church — has asked how the church could deny anyone’s love.

A good friend of mine – strong in his faith – says he can’t understand how God would create someone with love for another person, then deny the person that love. (At the same time, he flinches at the notion of endorsing an incestuous relationship, and not just because of the genetic consequences. He tends to believe that’s a sickness, not something God would put in them. If they were born that way, it’s a genetic disorder. Is it reasonable to consider the one relationship normal and God-given and the other a sickness to be denounced? Is he just closed-minded and unable to see the injustice in denying these people their love?)

So the question: do we understand what love is?

I won’t argue that love is not all that remains in the end. That it’s not “the greatest of these.” I surely won’t argue that the character of God isn’t love, or that Christ wasn’t the perfect exemplar of love.

But I will say that Jesus said and did a number of things that today’s American culture – hyper-aware of our feelings as we are – would probably call mean. It’s hard to put a “nice” slant on, “You brood of vipers, how can you who are evil say anything good?” He calls people children of hell and talks about God’s authority to throw people into hell. Are these the words of a “loving” Son, representing the God whose character is love?

Yes, Jesus welcomes sinners. But he also acknowledges that they’re sinners (sometimes in some rather uncomfortable ways: see, woman at the well) and then tells them to stop sinning. Some of these people must have felt judged. How dare he say that what they’re doing is sin? And tell them to stop? And suggest that hell awaits those who don’t? That kind of confrontation isn’t becoming of the rainbows-and-butterflies Savior I frequently hear about.

And Paul, just chapters before he wrote that soaring “love chapter,” called his readers worldly, not spiritual. Then he used some biting sarcasm with them (1 Cor 4:8-13). Then he dared to tell them not to associate with sexually immoral people — in fact, to expel someone who was in their midst. Is there anything less accepting? Less hospitable? More likely to cause divisions and conflict?

Either we have misunderstood love, or Jesus wasn’t such a perfect example of love. We have misunderstood love, or that great author of the “love chapter” was himself a terrible example of love. We have misunderstood love, or a God who would call some people wicked and send them into eternal fire is not a God of love. We have misunderstood love, or we might as well discard the Bible that gives so many examples of judgment and exclusion and denial of particular human passions.

And then there’s the issue of whether, particularly in the recent homosexuality debates, our culture has privileged romantic love above all else. If so, I would argue that this is a rather modern turn and we might be cautious to believe romantic love should hold such a high and exclusive place in our values systems.

God is love

I believe that God is love, and yet I believe there are certain deeply ingrained human passions — perhaps even things we would say were in-born — that God tells us not to act on. Because to act on those removes us from the will of God.

I believe that Christ’s example was an example of love, but it was so loving that he warned people when they were on their way to destruction

I believe that Paul knew what he was talking about when he said “the greatest of these is love.” But I think when he told the Corinthians to expel the immoral person, he showed us a different sort of love than we’d like to accept today.

This quote from this article says it very well: “When we are tempted to hide or change a difficult truth (even a truth-as-I-see-it) in the name of love, we are guilty of a failure to believe that God is who God has revealed himself to be. Likewise, when we get so committed to certain truths that we ignore the hurt done to those we are called to love, we fail in faith.”

There must be a way to do both. It needs to begin with understanding what love is.

Do you believe in the kind of love exhibited throughout Scripture, or a different kind of love – a philosophical love that would reject much of what God, Christ, and Paul say and do in Scripture?

We can have our common cultural notions of love, or we can have the loving God of Scripture. I don’t think we can have both.

The gift of great value

checkThere was a man who lived in great poverty.

Every morning he woke up, put on the same frayed shirt, the same tattered pants, and the same worn-out sneakers. And he went to the corner and begged.

Every evening he came back to his apartment with just enough for another day. Enough to pay the next rent due. Enough for a sandwich at lunch and a meager dinner.

Every night he went to bed tired and weary, but ready to begin again the next morning.

Then one day a gentleman in a suit and a hat and a nicely trimmed mustache approached the man on the corner. And the gentleman said to the man, “I want to give you a gift. A great gift. One that will rid you of these frayed and tattered clothes and allow you to leave this street corner and this life of begging. A gift of great value that will change your life forever after.” And the gentleman handed the man a cashier’s check. “This check is worth $50 million,” said the gentleman. “Get up from your life of poverty and lay hold of great riches.” And with that, the gentleman walked away.

The man on the corner sprung up in celebration. Tears of joy ran down his face. He who had been so poor had been given a gift of great value. That night he went to bed content and overjoyed. He was rich.

The next morning he woke up, put on the same frayed shirt, the same tattered pants, and the same worn-out sneakers. And he went to the corner and begged.

That evening he came back to his apartment with just enough for another day. Enough to pay the next rent due. Enough for a sandwich at lunch and a meager dinner.

That night he went to bed tired and weary. But he looked at the check lying under his mattress and reminded himself that he was rich. And he smiled. He was ready to begin again the next morning.

So it is with those who accept God’s grace for forgiveness but continue in unrighteousness.

Why part-time local pastor?

ordination
Why not ordination?

I’ve been surprised by the number of messages I’ve received from people asking why I’m a local pastor — and why part-time. They want to know why I’m not pursuing ordination as an elder in the United Methodist Church. Or if not elder, why I wouldn’t be ordained as a deacon.

For me, making the decision to stop the process at licensed local pastor was a very intentional, theological, values-laden decision. Especially for those who are trying to discern their own place in this system, I’ll share some of my reasoning.

Why local pastor?

When Paul writes to Titus about appointing elders (presbuteroi — note that it’s plural) in every town, and when Paul and Barnabas appoint elders in each church, I suspect that those elders they appoint are existing members of those communities. What are the apostles doing, then? It appears that they are recognizing some of the people in those communities for their gifts and their calling to leadership within the community. Then they’re appointing leaders from within them.

I’m in a unique situation. The church I serve is the church I grew up in. That’s not really a coincidence so much as it’s an intentional decision. I’d go so far as to call it a very particular calling. As a lifelong member of First UMC Lexington, so much of my own understanding of ministry and calling has been to lead within my community. Not as a professional outsider, but as someone who might be similar to those presbuteroi whom Paul and Barnabas appointed.

Because of this understanding of calling and ministry, I haven’t been able to pursue ordination with integrity. Itineracy is at the heart of elders’ orders in the UMC’s current practice. For anyone who becomes an elder, it’s emphasized that they’re taking a vow to go wherever their bishop sends them.

I can’t vow with integrity to go where the bishop sends.

If the bishop came to me tomorrow and said, “I’m sending you to Owensboro,” I don’t think I would go. Yes, I’d pray about it. But that kind of role — going as an outsider to serve as a temporary chaplain — while it may be appropriate for many, just doesn’t fit my understood calling or function in ministry. Moreover, it doesn’t fit our family’s values.

Now I’ve heard more than a few dozen times that itineracy is a “consultative process.” As in, the bishop wouldn’t just call me tomorrow and tell me I’m going to Owensboro. There would be several conversations — with me, with the church where I am now, with the church in Owensboro. And I’ve seen that in action. I believe that’s (mostly) true. But at the end of the day, it’s still the decision of the bishop. And if I say no, it’s me who broke my vow. I can’t deal with that kind of breach of integrity. The truth is, even with a consultative process, I’m just not sure I can vow to go where a bishop sends me.

My District Superintendent was quick to remind me that local pastors are still appointed and can be moved, too. My response: “But if I choose not to accept that move, I won’t have broken my vow.”

The question that follows: “Is this an issue of submission? You’re unwilling to submit to the bishop?

No, that’s really not it. I do submit to my bishop. But my submission is about whether or not I’m allowed to lead my community. My bishop can come at any point and remove me from my position. I know that. And I submit to that. I’ve been reminded by several people that one of the downsides to being a licensed local pastor is that you can have your appointment removed at any time.

So in a peculiar way, I see my submission to the bishop as opposite that of ordained elders. An ordained elder with guaranteed appointment submits to where (s)he will serve, but not whether (s)he will serve. My submission is more similar to what I think was happening in those communities where Titus and Paul and Barnabas appointed elders. I don’t think Paul would have ever gone into Ephesus and told one of its elders to go be an elder in Corinth. But he may have gone in and removed an elder. So I’m submitting not to where, but to whether I will be an authorized pastor in my community.

And the one other question that I hear: “Why not be ordained as a deacon? Deacons don’t itinerate.

No, they don’t, but their ordination is also quite different. Deacons are ordained to word, service, compassion, and justice. Elders are ordained to word, sacrament, and order. I understand the latter to be my primary calling. I find the sacraments and ordering the life of the church for ministry right at the heart of my calling, so to be ordained as a deacon just doesn’t work. Fortunately for me, the UMC recognizes the licensed local pastor as one licensed to word, sacrament, service, and ordering the life of the local congregation. That fits.

To be clear in all of this, I believe the UMC’s system of itineracy and appointment is workable and faithful. It’s not that I don’t believe it’s a right way. I just don’t believe it’s the only way – or that it’s the way for me and my family. Serving as a local pastor has allowed me to find a place in the UMC.

(I’ve written a lot about the distinct roles of pastor and itinerant in Scripture and Methodist history. See “related articles” below.)

One final reason for being a licensed local pastor is that I’m able to be classified as “part-time.” That proves to be a big deal…

Why part-time?

A number of others have asked why I’m designated as part-time. (My job description lists me as full-time, and I work full-time, but I’m listed with the conference as part-time.) This is a much easier question to answer: I’m part-time because of money.

If I were declared full-time, it would cost my church $19,000 to bring me up to the minimum required for full-time local pastors (the minimum in the link is for elders – it’s $4,000 less for local pastors). My church would do that. I have no question about it. They have never pressured me not to be listed as full-time and have even pressured me to take salary increases at times in the past. But if you’ve read anything I’ve written about pastors’ salaries, you know I believe there’s a more faithful way to use the church’s collection. My wife works part-time, so we have other income, and we have never worried about meeting our needs. Perhaps that situation will change some day, but for now, I can’t justify taking any more from the church than I have.

For any of you who have shared my concerns about the church’s use of money, this could be a way for you to do something different. Our conferences set minimum requirements, and the only way to avoid them is through part-time status. I’m told some bishops use their appointive power as a way to make churches keep raising salaries: “If you don’t give him/her a raise, I might need to make a change.” The part-time designation can also avoid some of those politics.

I hope this is helpful to any of you who are considering your own role in this whole process. I’d love to answer more questions if you have them, or to hear your thoughts.