Check out the sample reflection below, and sign up today at Ministry Matters to receive the first of your daily meditations March 26!

Peter Steinke’s book A Door Set Open: Grounding Change in Mission and Hope contrasts hopefulness and hopelessness. Hopefulness, according to Steinke, stirs imagination, expands horizons, influences events, energizes, and creates a sense of buoyancy. Hopelessness shrinks the radius of possibility, becomes apathetic, entraps, minimizes options, resigns to existing conditions, and loses heart. Steinke also writes that hopefulness remembers the future so that we will not remain trapped in the present arrangement of things (p. 41).

Since reading Steinke’s book, the phrase Remember the Future has lingered in my mind. At first, the words are disorienting. Remember points backward, future looks forward. Yet in every discussion, deliberation, discernment, and decision, a leader must give deep and conscientious consideration to the future—to the future of the mission, to future contexts, to future generations, to a future with hope. Hope carries us across the threshold of “can’t.” We must always remember the future.

General Conference 2012 promises to be a significant moment in the life of the United Methodist Church. The Council of Bishops, through the Call to Action, has endorsed a core challenge: To redirect the flow of attention, energy, and resources to an intense concentration on fostering and sustaining an increase in the number of vital congregations effective in making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. To support this, the Council of Bishops and the Connectional Table have put forward bold proposals that consolidate and streamline general agencies; give annual conferences the freedom to organize according to their context; reform the Council of Bishops; strengthen accountability systems for bishops, pastors, and general agencies; and reduce the general church budget. Also, there are proposals from an array of task forces that may change our systems of clergy preparation, ordination, and deployment, including shifts in the guaranteed appointment. In addition, General Conference will consider thousands of petitions on hundreds of topics submitted by members and congregations from across the world.

Petitions, bishops, pastors, laity, caucuses, committees, boards, agencies, budgets, plenary, legislation, young people, the global church, conferences, ordination, mission, discipline, Wesley, malaria, seminaries, worship, translators, hymns, prayer—this is the peculiar vocabulary and singular language of General Conference. The agenda is overwhelming. The expectations are incredible. The worship is awe-inspiring. The array of material to read is unrealistic. The work is important. The tension is tangible. The outcomes are uncertain.

And, I pray, the Spirit is present. I pray that delegates focus on the mission of making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. I hope they direct our energies outward into the mission fields at home and across the globe that God gives us. And I pray they remember the future.

Beginning on March 26 and continuing for the thirty days leading up to General Conference, I will post a daily blog on Ministry Matters addressing an element of our mission together as United Methodists, weaving together scriptural themes, threads from our Wesleyan heritage, and insights from the literature of organizations and change. I’ll include references and background related to the Call to Action and some of the specific proposals that come before General Conference. Some of the daily blogs will include brief  videos to explain or describe key ideas. Delegates, clergy, laity, and visitors from across the church are invited to opt in for a free subscription for the thirty days. Each day, you’ll receive a copy of the blog by email. Annual conference websites and local church websites are invited to link up as well.

The purpose of Remember the Future is to deepen understanding and further conversation about the key issues that shape our mission and future as a denomination. I hope the daily writings help focus the conversation on the mission of the church in Christ, and that they cause delegates at General Conference as well as local church leaders to continually remember the future!

The task of governance in an organization is to clarify the principle mission, maintain an outward focus, and force future-oriented thinking. How well do the governance structures of your congregation and of your conference do these things?

Why is it so difficult to focus on the future in leadership decisions? How do you remember the future in the roles of leadership you hold?

Woods Chapel United Methodist Church has had one or more volunteer teams serving in Joplin every week since the tornado. Your MissionCast crew was on hand to worship at Woods Chapel on Sunday and interview some of the key members involved with the congregations rebuilding effort in Joplin. They spoke of the great amount of work to be done in Joplin. To schedule the 2012 volunteer teams from your congregation contact Jamie Piper. (417)782-5378 or umvimjoplin@gmail.com

For instance, Eugene Peterson’s translation of John 1: 14 reads, “The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.” My imagination goes wild with the image of God moving in the neighborhood. My neighborhood. Your neighborhood!

In a poem by Anne Weems, she writes, “It is not over, this birthing. There are always newer skies into which God can throw stars.” Wow. Incarnation continues. God is with us again and again. It’s never over!

Anne Weems also writes, “When we begin to think that we can predict the Advent of God, that we can box the Christ into a stable in Bethlehem, that’s just the time that God will be born in a place we can’t imagine and won’t believe.” This line sends me into a contemplative reflection and confession about all the ways I “box the Christ” into too little a space with too limited an expectation and imagination.

Madeleine L’Engle’s poem for Advent reads, “This is the irrational season when hope blooms right and wild. If Mary’d been filled with reason, there’d have been no room for the child.” I love the emphasis on the irrational and unreasonable quality of God’s initiative. The Advent of God’s love into this world makes no sense, and yet it makes all the sense in the world. Are people of faith out of touch with reality to focus on the way of love revealed in Christ, or are they in touch with the truest reality of all?

Charles Wesley, in his collection entitled “Hymns for the Nativity of Our Lord,” presents dozens of poetic expressions about the Advent and incarnation. The simplest? “Reconciled. By a Child.” One of the more eccentric?

“The’ incarnate Deity,
Our God contracted to a span,
Incomprehensibly made man.”
Something strikes me in this about the infinite love of God contracted into the span of a human life. It is indeed incomprehensible.

Christmas cards may include a good line. One of my favorite from years ago shows a young child beside a Christmas tree late at night after the packages had all been opened. She is looking out the window toward a starlit winter sky. The words inside say, “Don’t worry. He’s coming.” At first, the card appears to be about Santa and the expectation of more material gifts to come. But upon further reflection, the perceptive reader realizes that there is no suggestion of Santa, and that our thinking such is a projection of our own culturally-nurtured expectation. It’s an Advent message: “Don’t worry. He’s coming.”

During the days to come hundreds of our churches, thousands of our pastors and worship leaders and musicians, and tens of thousands of our members and guests will gather to contemplate the incomprehensible offering of God’s grace to the world through the birth of Christ. Know that you are in my prayers. Whether God speaks to us through expansive cantatas, well-prepared sermons, the fellowship of friends, or through even a single line, may our hearts be open to receive. From my family to yours, God bless you!
Yours in Christ,
rs

A couple of weeks earlier in the year, there were flood stories from Southeast Missouri, which had the added drama of the Corps of Engineers detonating a large amount of explosives to blow up the levy, instantly flooding thousands of acres.

Back up in the opposite corner of the state, the flooding didn’t have the same dramatic flashpoint. The water level came up, due to excessive water levels upstream. Levies began to fail, one right after another. Thousands of acres flooded. Then something unusual happened; in that nothing at all happened. The water didn’t go away. The Missouri River stayed high all summer. Statewide flooding never happened, largely because the massive flooding in four counties of Northwest Missouri took the pressure off of downstream levies. But because the river stayed high, those flooded fields have had nowhere to drain to for months. The water was finally beginning to recede in September, albeit slowly.

“The Missouri River is four miles wide now, and it has been five miles wide all summer,” Rev. Bruce Jeffries said in mid-September.

Jeffries serves the communities of Rockport and Watson. The church at Watson was closed during July and August due to roads being closed.

When the water does go down to normal levels, people know things may be different.

“We don’t know what we’ll find,” Jeffries said. “The river normally moves at 4 – 6 miles per hour, and it’s been flowing about 20 miles per hour all summer. It has probably carved a new channel.”

Many people in Northwest Missouri are very closely tied to the cities of Lincoln and Omaha in Nebraska. Some work there, or their doctors and other health care providers are based there. But what used to be a short drive up the interstate became a detour of hundreds of miles.

Interstate 29 has been shut down since June, having a major impact on local business.

“Our whole community has experienced much revenue loss,” said Rev. Crystal Karr, pastor of Mound City UMC and Sharp’s Grove UMC. “The Squaw Creek Truck Stop closed, which put several families out of work.”

Kate Mongan, the Federal Emergency Management Agency volunteer agency liaison who has been working in the area, said the prolonged nature of the disaster is taking its toll on people.

“This is a disaster like I’ve never seen before. Usually after a tornado or flood, people come back in after it happens and start to move forward. Many of these families have no way to move forward. They can’t process insurance claims until their homes have been inspected, and their homes are still flooded,” she said. “Domestic violence has gone up, as people are under extra stress from being displaced, often now living with two or three families in one household.”

Lora Cunningham is the district disaster response coordinator. She said at the first of October the water was going down significantly, but many homes still had several feet of water in them. Some homes that don’t have water in them still cannot be reached because the roads to them are under water. Some homeowners that have been able to get back to their homes have found them filled with mud a foot deep.

“A lot of these homes weren’t in the flood plain, and people don’t have flood insurance,” Cunningham said. “One person I spoke with who does have insurance has a $12,000 deductible.”

Cunningham is praying that Volunteer In Missions teams come to the area soon to help residents who are trying to get through this prolonged disaster. Local churches are ready to house volunteer teams, and a job list is ready to put people to work.

“I’ve been going house to house, and asking people if they need assistance,” Cunningham said. “Most people in this area are very independent, but many have agreed to accept help. It’s important that we have volunteer teams that are ready to come here and help people begin to put their lives back together.”

If you would like to organize a volunteer team to help people affected by the flood in Northwest Missouri, call Jeff Baker at 573- 474-7155 or e-mail baker@ umocm.com.

As I listened to some of our most creative leaders, I felt a more profound hope than I have in a long time.  There’s a growing consensus of vision and future that I find compelling.

We see a new church, a church that is clear about its mission and confident about its future, a church that is relevant, reaching out, inviting, alive, agile, and resilient.  We see a church that is hopeful, passionate, nimble, called of God, outward-focused, courageous.

Where do we see this new church?  It is not yet, and it is not everywhere; nevertheless, there are a thousand signs of its emerging.

We see signs of this new church in those congregations that are thriving, those pockets of excellence that have managed to buck the trends to reach younger generations, to extend the ministry of Christ into unexpected places.

During recent months I’ve preached in rural congregations led by local pastors and lay ministers that have doubled in attendance, started outreach ministries that change lives, and welcomed new people even from areas with declining population.  I’ve celebrated the merger of urban churches in creative ways we wouldn’t have thought possible five years ago, combining the excellent and passionate work of growing congregations with strategic facilities to reach neighborhoods afresh.  I’ve shouted with joy at the success of new congregational starts in African American and Hispanic neighborhoods.  I’ve been humbled by the courage and vision of several long-established congregations who have opened themselves to deep and risky transformation.  Many congregations are reappraising their mission, making hard choices, and realigning their resources toward more vigorous, fruitful, outward-focused ministry.  I’m moved by the number of pastors who voluntarily join continual learning communities, delving more deeply into the dynamics of congregations and the theology of mission, and learning skills to reach new people.

Are these changes affecting every congregation?  No.  And yet every conference has congregations that are thriving, pastors willing to teach others, and laypersons with the passion to learn, change, and initiate ministry.   We see a new church, with signs evident in church starts, unexpected mergers, experiments with second sites, transformed congregations, gifted young people entering ministry, creative initiatives, and risk-taking outreach.

And we see a new church shaping Annual Conferences, a serious refocusing after decades of restructuring committees and reshuffling staff.  Through much experimentation, several annual conferences truly realign their resources toward their mission.  They lead congregations to lead people to active faith in Jesus Christ because they know that congregations do not exist to serve conferences, but conferences exist to cultivate ministries in congregations and communities.  Many conferences take excellence, fruitfulness, and accountability seriously in bold new ways.  They radically streamline operations, reevaluate the role of superintendent ministry,  focus the appointment system on the mission field, and rethink standards for ministry with attention to fruitfulness.  I’m profoundly hopeful when I see some conferences redirect the flow of energy, attention, and resources toward increasing the number of fruitful congregations. We can learn from them.

And we see a new church emerging at the General Church.   Several general agencies are voluntarily and unilaterally reducing their size and streamlining their operations.  Ideas now abound about merging, consolidating, cooperating, removing redundancies, reducing costs, and most importantly, focusing on the mission of Christ particularly through congregations.  Conversations taking place now would not have been possible a few years ago.  Suggestions about a unified governance structure that focuses outwardly on the mission, forces future-oriented thinking, reconnects the local church to the general ministries, and increases accountability—these plans give me hope.

And there is a new and growing spirit in the Council of Bishops.  The unanimous adoption of the Call to Action with its sustained focus on congregational vitality, the willingness of the Council to confront some of the internal issues that have hampered it in the past, the openness to evaluation, and the development of learning communities within the Council—these give me hope as well.

The Call to Action invites United Methodists to ten years of sustained attention to congregational vitality, a focus on leadership development (rethinking systems for clergy recruitment, preparation, training, support, deployment, and accountability), realigning boards and agencies in a way that supports our mission in today’s contexts, and reworking the Council of Bishops.  All the recommendations are intended to redirect the flow of attention, energy, and resources to an intense concentration on fostering and sustaining an increase in the number of vital congregations effective in making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. These are significant undertakings, and I wrestle with my own cynicism about how we shall achieve them.   My impatience feeds a sense of exasperation with the pace of change.

And yet there are many signs of hope.   Picture in your mind a heat map, where clusters of fruitful ministry activity are lighted against a dark background with the most fruitful and vital ministries shining brightest.  The heat map of the United Methodist Church would allow us to see bright spots in unexpected places, concentrations of vital ministry and congregations that are thriving.  Some would be in urban areas, some in the suburbs, and some in the most isolated of rural counties.  Africa would be aglow with congregational vitality and mission partnerships, but also the map would draw our attention to an exceptional campus ministry in one area and to a courageous witness for the homeless in another. A flourishing traditional church would light up near a dynamic merger.  Some conferences and seminaries and foundations and agencies would glow brighter as they risk genuine innovation to realign with the mission. Lights here and there, bright spots appear in places we never expected.

The Interim Operations Team offers extraordinary recommendations.  Some of them stretch us uncomfortably, and some don’t go far enough.  The IOT report contains thousands of details for us to argue over if we choose to do so.  Or we can look at the big picture, the change in culture and process that redirects the flow toward vital congregations.

We see a new church, and there are signs of it here and there in congregations, conferences, agencies, and at the Council.  Something is happening in our church. The Spirit that blows where it will is creating openings for conversation and for a way forward with faithfulness.  The way things have been is not the way they will be.  And this gives me hope.

Yours in Christ,

Robert Schnase

Through Serve 2011 we invited congregations and United Methodists across Missouri to offer themselves in service to the people of their communities for one special weekend.  Thousands of people young and old put on their gloves or tied on their aprons and loaded their ladders and picked up their paintbrushes to head out into their neighborhoods for projects that ranged from renovating houses, cleaning public parks, restocking food pantries, serving the homeless, teaching children, painting classrooms, visiting the homebound, writing notes to newcomers, and performing hundreds of other forms of personal and community service.  More than 260 churches formally registered through the Office of Creative Ministries, but many more collaborated with other congregations in their areas in ways that has made it difficult to track.  Max Marble, Director of Mission, Service, and Justice Ministries, estimates that more than 400 congregations participated during this past weekend, and many others participated on other weekends of their choosing last spring. Audrey Phelps, Director of Volunteers in Mission, has received more detailed reports from a sampling of 34 churches who participated, and in those few churches alone more than 2600 United Methodists volunteered, and they were joined by 400 other non-member volunteers.  Very cool.

I spent my Serve 2011 workday at Kingdom House in St. Louis working alongside members from Beloved Community United Methodist Church and The Gathering.   Esther and our sons worked on projects in Columbia.  As I’ve mingled with dozens of clergy and laity since last weekend, I’ve continually heard positive reflections on the weekend.   Serve 2011 represents only a small fraction of the many ministries our congregations offer in their communities throughout the year, and I give God thanks for the hard work and deep commitment of so many United Methodists who keep us outward-focused in our serving Christ.  Thank you to everyone who worked and prayed to make Serve 2011 successful for those we seek to serve as well as for those who offered themselves to serve.

And earlier this week, nearly 250 clergy from the Missouri Conference gathered for 48 hours of worship, learning, play, community, and prayer at CONVERGE.   CONVERGE represents a new approach toward fostering a sense of common community and mission among our pastors.   Hosted by First UMC, Sedalia, and involving a series of excellent speakers, worship leaders, musicians, and workshop leaders, the gathering offered time apart for pastors to cultivate their connection to God, remember their call, and rededicate themselves to their mission.   The Spirit was alive, the energy was high, the singing was joyous, and the laughter was delightful!  Our special thanks to Jim Downing for his excellent leadership, to First UMC for their extraordinary hospitality, and to Karen Hayden for her coordination and planning through the Office of Pastoral Excellence.   CONVERGE gave pastors a time to breathe in the Spirit afresh and to renew their sense of community in Christ.

These two new ministries, Serve 2011, and CONVERGE, were planned separately, and the dates were arrived at by their varying leaders to maximize participation.  When we realized that both were happening during the same week, we pondered whether to change the schedule.  As it has turned out, I think the two events have complemented each other very well.

Jesus ministry is marked by periods of active engagement followed by time apart for prayer.   His teachings are full of action words:  “Go….Teach….Heal…Baptize…Take up….Arise…..Give…Tell…Serve…”  But his practice of ministry also include rich times of personal prayer, extended rest, time away, dinner with friends, long walks, fishing days, stopovers at wells, and time in the Temple.  He sent out his disciples to serve and teach, and he called them together for common meals and community prayers.  He taught them to reach out to others in need, and also to reach up to God with humility.

Reaching out and reaching up.  How has Serve 2011 helped you reach out to your neighbor or CONVERGE helped you reach up to God this week?  How have you seen God at work in these ministries?

Yours in Christ,

rs

Some new homes are going up off of 26th Street near Saint Paul’s UMC. While Saint Paul’s worship center had to be torn down, the fellowship hall is now under repair so that the members will be able to return in the fall for worship. The members of St. James UMC are meeting at Christ’s Community UMC and starting to discuss plans for the future. The construction of a new district office has begun on 20th Street.

Wal-Mart, Walgreens and Chick-Fil-A are all under construction on Rangeline Road. Many businesses have relocated and are opening their doors again. Most of all, the mounds of debris are being hauled away leaving a cleaner, if more empty landscape.

There are still moments that startle as they did Friday evening when we turned down a street I did not recognize. My husband reminded me we used to drive on it often to avoid traffic when leaving the Walgreens on 20th and Main Street. The old homes and trees on Virginia Street were all gone and I barely knew the place. Still, all around there are signs of hope, possibility and new life. And I am so thankful for them.

I thought back to how it felt late in the evening on May 22, sitting in our home using a camp lantern, listening to the battery operated radio, as the reporters brought back continual updates of the destruction. Since we lived south of the damaged area, we could only imagine the extent of the devastation. I lay awake for a long time that Sunday evening trying to pray and wondering how our community could survive such a catastrophic storm. As I prayed, I remembered something Rudy Giuliani said on the evening of the September 11 terrorist attacks, when asked about the losses the city of New York had sustained. He said they would be more than we could bear and so it seemed in those early days after that tragedy. While the scale was different, that’s how I felt on May 22. As the reports of schools, homes, countless businesses, fire stations and churches destroyed came in with the news of a rising death toll, it seemed more than we would be able to bear.

Yet even Sunday evening, as families searched for loved ones and neighbors dug through the rubble to help each other, help began pouring into our community: police officers, fire crews, emergency rescue personnel, crews to repair the power lines and more from our four states area and through out the state of Missouri. It still moves me to think of the officers I saw on street corners Monday morning from Kansas City and St. Louis; the rescue vehicles from the Native American communities in Oklahoma who had come to assist our town in its hour of great need.

By Monday, we were receiving help from our office of Creative Ministries, from trained Emergency Response teams from United Methodist churches like Liberty, Schweitzer, Church of the Resurrection, Woods Chapel and more. The churches in Joplin began receiving offers of help, supplies, and people who showed up to help as they themselves began to organize and offer assistance to those in their neighborhoods. We were not alone. Instead, we were carried by the love and support of so many. I, like the other residents of Joplin, experienced the blessing of having others bear our burdens, fulfilling the law of Christ to love your neighbor as yourself. Whether by your prayers, your gifts of supplies or money, or by your presence on one of the hundreds of volunteer teams that have poured into Joplin, you helped us bear our burdens, I offer you my heartfelt thanks. We have not been alone. Through your visible expressions of love, we have felt the care and love of God and we have been blessed. Thank you.

I was driving south on Main Street in McAllen, Texas, toward my church office with a mug of hot tea in my hand listening to the radio.  Just after 8 o’clock (Central Time), they reported that a small plane had crashed into a building in New York.  Several minutes later I made out that it was the World Trade Center they were talking about.  When I walked into the church office, the secretary told me that a second plane had hit the Twin Towers.  This changed the whole perception of the experience.  Our District Superintendent had scheduled a day-long pastors meeting about thirty miles away, and I called to urge him to cancel the meeting and send the pastors to their churches.  News came to us in bits and pieces—the Pentagon, Pennsylvania, planes grounded everywhere.  I gathered the staff to pray and to begin to shape our response.  We opened the sanctuary for prayer and offered a prayer service late in the evening.  We worked on how to get word out to our members and to the community through email, radio, and television.

I didn’t see the video clips of the buildings collapsing until sometime in the afternoon, the searing images of violence, destruction, and death.  The emotions at the evening prayer service ran deep, of shock and fear and anger and grief.  I remember being deeply moved by the number of direct connections people had to the events.  People spoke of sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, and friends in New York, at the Pentagon, serving in the military and in the Secret Service, working for the airlines.  The events were not far away, but close, intimate, and personal.

Images emerged of hope, courage, and heroism, of ordinary unknown people who sacrificed everything to save lives, of the hundreds of fire fighters and police officers and rescue workers who climbed stairs against their own instincts of fear to help strangers.  The wounds of the day ran deep, and the ripples and consequences continue to current times.  It was a day none of us who were old enough to see it will ever forget.  Where were you on September 11, 2001?

Perhaps the more important question is, “Where are you now because of 9/11?” Are you a different person at a different place in your perspective about the world than before that date?  If so, how are you different?  What have we learned?  How have we grown?  How have we let 9/11 shape us?  For better, or for worse?

The meaning of an event is determined by what follows from it.  For instance, a friend’s unexpected death may mark the point in our lives when we give up on God, discard the notion that life has any meaning, give in to despair, and decide that forming close friendships is not worth the risk.  In this case, the friend’s death takes us to a new place, a place of hopelessness, brokenness, and aloneness.  Or a friend’s unexpected death may stimulate us to draw closer to God, to explore for the first time the depth of life’s meaning, to become more acutely aware of the enduring quality of love and the importance of friendship.  Our response either makes our friend’s death a witness to emptiness and despair or a witness to hope and resurrection.

Where have the events of 9/11 taken us in the ten years since that day?  Have we arrived at a place where we live more fearful lives, dominated by greater suspicion and isolation from people who are different from us?  Has it made us more hateful, less tolerant, more inclined to violence, less inclined to distinguish between just and unjust causes? Has it taken away a sense of hopefulness about the future or robbed us of the sense of God’s persistent love?  If this is the case, then September 11 has been a victory for despair, emptiness, and death.  The terrorists have achieved their purpose in us.

On the other hand, perhaps September 11 has caused us to delve more deeply into the meaning of living in a global community and to look more carefully at the core values we seek to fulfill as a people—freedom, equality, justice, responsibility, serving, sacrifice.  Perhaps the tragedy has caused us to rethink how we connect to our families, our communities, and even to strangers.  Whom are we willing to help, and at what cost?  How does our embracing the love of Christ as a way of life shape our sense of connection, responsibility, and serving in a hurting world?  Perhaps 9/11 has become a sign of the resilience of community, a testament to the truth that while the thread of life is fragile, the fabric of life is eternal.  Perhaps 9/11 has caused us to explore more deeply the depth of human brokenness and the profound vision and call of God’s reign nevertheless.   Perhaps it has redoubled our longing for peace and our passion for reconciliation.

Following Jesus’ horrible death on the cross, his followers walked through a period of anguish trying to understand what happened.  Then they began to discern that this experience was not evidence of the victory of death, despair, and violence; rather, in this experience a new opportunity was opened in their relationship with God.  They began to see that hope is more pervasive than despair, that love is more powerful than hate, that life is victorious over death.  They experienced the absolute and unchanging hope that is at the core of life:  that life is worth living, even when there are times of extraordinary loss; that people are worth loving, even when they can be taken from us so unexpectedly; and that God is worth trusting, even when the meaning of events seem beyond our comprehension.

In the eighth chapter of Romans, Paul writes, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ?  Shall hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?  No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Where were you on September 11?  Where are you now?  Where are you in relationship to your family, your community, your world?  Are you closer to where you need to be, or further away?  Where are you in your regard to your calling from Christ to love and serve neighbor and stranger?  Where are you in your relationship to God and to your own highest and best self as a follower of Christ?  Have we allowed the events of the last ten years to move us backward or forward?  Upward, or downward?  Inward, or toward the love of God in Christ?

Yours in Christ,

Robert Schnase

When I was endorsed for the Episcopacy, someone asked which Bishops I admired most and why.  I did not know many bishops and was not prepared for the question, and so I answered that I appreciated the gentleness of spirit and quiet wisdom of Eugene Slater (the first bishop I ever met when I was a teenager), the steel courage and good humor of Ernest T. Dixon, Jr, (the bishop who ordained me and appointed me), the focused commitment of Ray Owen (who resolutely embraced the mission of the church), and the ability to mobilize people with grace and effectiveness of Janice Huie (my long-time colleague who had been elected bishop).  I even mentioned admiring the fictional bishop from Les Miserables who exhibited Christ’s unexpected and costly mercy.

This answer was formulated before I knew Monk Bryan, or I would have included him.  Monk modeled a ministry of encouragement that I deeply respect and that has helped me personally in profound ways. I’ve only known him in his retirement, but he frequently managed to find the right words at the right time to renew my spirit.  His notes, handwritten or emailed, always caused me to smile, to take a larger view, to step forward with new energy. Our most recent exchange was two weeks ago. He never interfered or second-guessed any decisions I have made, including the ones that grieve the heart, and I appreciated his complete confidence and undying support.  He offered counsel, perspective, focus, and confirmation.  He was a blessing.

Monk Bryan’s stories, anecdotes, sermons, and prayers were interlaced with a delightful good humor, sophisticated word play, and a disarmingly unexpected sharpness of memory and attention to detail.  The simplest note of appreciation or invitation had an unmatchable literary quality.   He was a master storyteller and preacher.  Without notes he could weave elaborate narratives that drew you in and then caught you by surprise with a turn of phrase that was at once poignant and wonderfully good-humored.  He’d speak with a serious demeanor, and just at the twist in the tale his eyes would twinkle and you could detect the hint of a smile, and then you’d realize that you’d been delivered to a unexpected insight and spiritual truth.   As a friend mentioned to me before the Memorial Service, Monk’s preaching satisfied all the senses: he stimulated the intellectual elements of the spiritual life as well as the emotional.

And Monk was a walking repository of Methodist history.  He remembered names, numbers, dates, events, and places unlike anyone I’ve ever known.  He told stories of sleeping under the stars at Mt. Sequoyah in the first years of the camp’s founding, and of work alongside hosts of Methodist leaders in Texas whose names now appear on seminary dorms and campus student centers.  He served in Missouri during a time when Methodism was burgeoning and robust and enjoyed an undying confidence about the future.

And Monk was Methodist to the core.  Generations of Methodist preachers preceded him in his family and generations have followed in the calling to ministry.  He was first elected to General Conference in 1956 (a year before I was born!) and attended each one since.  No one loved the church more than Monk Bryan.  At the Council of Bishops meeting, he seldom spoke, listened attentively, knew the details thoroughly, and made any points he desired to make through story and anecdote.

Monk was from another generation of Bishop than me.  During most of the seven years we served together on the Council of Bishops, I was the second youngest of the bishops while he was second oldest.  Forty-four years and generations of pastors separated his experience from mine.  He was from an era of bishops in black suits and white shirts rather than khakis and denim.  Visiting his family in Columbia while I was out of town, he stepped into my office while I was absent.  Later he expressed his utter surprise and complete bewilderment in discovering that I have no desk.  How could a bishop have no desk!   The difference in work styles and challenges are stark between what he faced as bishop and what I see today.

A couple months ago, Esther and I had the privilege of hosting Monk and Twila at our home in Columbia for dessert.  Monk had wanted to see my collection of 18^th and 19^th century Methodist hymnbooks, and we spoke of the history of Methodism in Missouri.  It was a delightful evening, and I’ll miss him as colleague, friend, and mentor.  If I should be blessed with health of mind, body, and spirit into my retirement years, then I want to be like Monk Bryan when I grow up.  He lived the autumn season of life with fullness, grace, and energy.  I pray for a touch of his graciousness, good-humor, and passion for all of us who carry forward the ministry in Christ that we have inherited from him.

Yours in Christ,

Robert Schnase

When serving as a pastor, I learned that I usually make my biggest mistakes when I’m tired.  When I don’t attend to patterns of rest, sleep, exercise, and time away, and just keep grinding away at work day after day, I become more likely to say things I wish I could take back, make decisions that aren’t constructive, and foster an atmosphere that isn’t conducive to anyone’s best attitude and fruitfulness.

In a similar fashion, organizations make their biggest mistakes when they make decisions based on fear.  Leaders gripped by fear lose focus and forget purpose.  Community becomes brittle, tempers intensify, and we move into a reactive mode rather than a thoughtful and intentional form of deliberation.   When people of faith react in fear, the decisions focus on short-term outcomes.  Fear stifles creativity, and when people of prayer and spiritual depth respond in reactive ways, they limit alternatives and possibilities that they might ordinarily consider in less stressful times.  Fear closes the door to the Spirit’s wisdom.

Perhaps that is why so many scriptural passages repeat a common refrain, “Do not be afraid.”  The angel said this to Mary at the annunciation; the heralds proclaimed this to the shepherds in the fields; Jesus reminded his disciples of this on the stormy sea, and the risen Christ whispered this to the women at the tomb.  The disciples, huddled together in fear after the death of Jesus, had trouble hearing this message.  “Have no fear,” to me, does not mean we avoid legitimate concern and engagement.  It means, Don’t let worry win.   When worry wins, we lose.  When worry wins, the purpose and ministry of Christ gets hijacked, derailed, ignored, and avoided.  Don’t let worry win.

Like everyone, I’ve cringed each time I’ve listened to the news to hear of the downward spiral of the financial markets.  I think of people losing jobs, closing businesses, anxious about their houses, fearful for the retirements, wondering about their college savings funds.  I think of the churches we serve and their fall pledge campaigns, their budgeting for next year, the missions they support, the ministries they offer, the building projects that are underway.   I think of the funds and ministries we oversee at the conference level—insurance issues; pension funds; new church starts; the recruitment, education and training of pastors; youth and camping ministries.   I think of my own family—our own pension fund, our college expenses, investments that will one day help purchase a home at retirement.   It’s hard to keep all these in our hearts without feeling a little jittery.  It takes work not to let worry win.  It’s hard to feed faith, but it’s easy to succumb to fear’s power and seduction.

As you lead in your church as pastor or layperson, this season requires of you a special steadiness of hand.  How you respond shapes your congregation’s response.  If a congregation makes its biggest mistakes when it’s driven by fear rather than faith, then it falls to us to keep the focus where it belongs—on the ministry of Jesus Christ.

First, don’t rush to make permanent decisions based on temporary setbacks.  We don’t know how long and how deep this troubling time may last.  We will know much more in the next couple months.  Make prudent decisions rather than panicked ones.  When gripped by fear, sometimes we feel we must act, that we must do something.  Doing something gives us a sense of control.  This has caused countless people to sell stocks at incredible losses, abandoning investments that will eventually rebound.  This same fear causes churches impulsively to reduce budgets, eliminate fruitful ministries, and cut staff.  These might be prudent steps in some cases.   But check the motivation…fear or faith?  Reactive, or purpose-driven?  Impulsive, or deliberately and prayerfully considered?

Second, organizations take their cue from the attitudes and responses of their leaders.  If the pastor and lay leadership push the panic button, everyone else will respond accordingly.   Letters and communications that report conscientious concern, report honest trends, and invite continued prayerful support generate a far more positive response from our members than notices that imply that the church is facing catastrophe, calamity, and crisis.  Who will prayerfully support a church that is described by its leaders as dead, dying, busted, broke, or sunk?  Appeal to peoples’ highest motives, not their fears.  Foster generosity without feeding anxiety.  We’re followers of the Christ who calmed the seas and walked forward amidst the tempests of the time.  He invites us into his way, promising to be with us at every step.

A radio story reminded parents to be careful about the language they use to describe their own family finances because children take things literally.  If Mom and Dad say in exaggerated exasperation, “we’re going broke, we’re losing everything,” then children stay awake all night thinking about the homeless life to come!  Picture a congregation as concentric circles moving out from the center.  If the leaders at the center use language carelessly and with unrestrained hyperbole, those further out from the center take it literally since they don’t know the details the way the leaders do.  Use a steady hand.   Practice faith rather than fear.

Finally, focus on the purpose of the church, even and especially during stressful times.  Challenging times do not relieve us of the joyful obligation of worshipping God with glad and generous hearts; of serving others with compassion, mercy, and justice; of studying God’s word and teaching the children; and of inviting others into Christ.  Challenging times do not relieve congregations, or the individuals who comprise them, of the calling to be generous.  The ministries that our congregations support—relief and assistance ministries, women’s shelters, feeding and homebuilding ministries, ministries that help children and the poor, scholarships—are seeing their expenses increase even as the need for their services intensifies.  They need us more now than ever.   Generosity is not seasonal, temporary, or only for smooth and easy times.  Rather, generosity is our way of being as followers of Christ because it’s the way God works in the world.  As Paul writes of the church of Macedonia, “for during a severe ordeal of affliction, their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part.  For, as I can testify, they voluntarily gave according to their means, and even beyond their means, begging us earnestly for the privileges of sharing in this ministry.”   (II Corinthians 8: 2-5)

These early Christians did not let worry win.  May we learn from them in our following of Christ.

Grace and peace,

rs