ON HOPE FOR METHODISM: A TESTIMONY (PART 6)
THE GAP
By Dr. Riley Case
(At the center of the present crisis in United Methodism are irreconcilable differences between those who hold to the historic faith in the Wesleyan tradition and those who believe that traditional and historic Christianity must adjust to keep up with changing understandings of truth. This series of articles is one person’s testimony on living through the events that have brought the church to the point of division.)
In 1983 I was appointed to be the District Superintendent of the Marion District of the North Indiana Conference. My district was mostly rural and theologically evangelical. Several months before I was appointed three churches in the district had split, in part because of perceived denominational liberalism. Within the bounds of the district were Taylor University, with a strong Methodist holiness tradition, and Marion College (now Indiana Wesleyan), which recently was recognized as the private school with the highest enrollment in Indiana (higher even than Notre Dame). The district was comprised of 73 churches in four counties. One county, Grant, had been the center of Methodist Protestantism (M.P.) in Indiana with something like 20 churches that had once been M.P. One county, Wells, with a population of something like 22,000, counted 22 UM churches (thanks to the 1968 merger). It was obvious that we were overcrowded with churches and with changing demographics; we could not sustain that number. All of this (evangelical and rural) probably contributed to why I was appointed D.S. since my reputation was already set. In fact, Bishop James Armstrong, who appointed me, said as much privately and publicly.
My experience as a superintendent was 100% positive. I served under three different bishops and saw the cabinet turned over at least one time. Our cabinets proved that theological differences need not divide us if we are united around larger goals.
Our conference thrived in those days, despite some membership loss that was taking place all over in mainline churches. Our conference programming at that time was district-based. Each district was responsible for its own youth camps—elementary, junior high, and high school. We sponsored Mission Saturation weeks and missions banquets. We had a strong district youth program; we had an annual Christmas party and a Valentine’s Day party and a summer parsonage family picnic. Our ministers’ meetings were well-attended (perhaps because they came with a meal). We offered a monthly newsletter with news of the churches. We conducted individual church (or circuit) charge conferences in which a major amount of time was given to listening to church concerns. I met at least once every year with each Pastor-Parish Committee without the pastor present.
This contrasts with today where conference staff conducts programs, seminars, and workshops and it is difficult to get persons to attend. Youth camps are conference-based. Superintendents conduct group charge conferences where real local church concerns are hardly ever discussed.
I communicated to the churches that if they had concerns, I would not lecture them but would seek to interpret as well as I could what was happening and then would represent their concerns. Out of the first nine charge conferences I held, seven had concerns about what was the issue of that moment, the Inclusive Language Lectionary published by the National Council of Churches in which politically correct language was being used instead of Biblical language. It was not hard to carry forward this concern since my bishop at the time, James Armstrong, was also president of the National Council. In other instances, I wrote letters and discovered that letters written on district stationery were much more apt to receive a serious answer than letters written on local church stationary.
At the same time I was appointed D.S., I was also elected as a clergy delegate from our annual conference to the General Conference (1984). I was able to use charge conference time to explain General Conference and what were the issues. I asked churches how they stood on these and said I would “represent” them. We took some surveys. I still have the results. Shall we maintain the present stance of the Discipline in regard to the practice of homosexuality and prohibit the use of church funds to advance the cause of homosexual practice? Results: Yes 811; No 11; Abstain 12. On God-language: shall we pass a resolution asking bishops and pastors to use the name of the triune God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) in baptism and ordinations instead of language such as “Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer? Results: Yes 746; No 62; Abstain 26.
Some of my colleagues and some from other delegations made the point that as “delegates” they were expected to vote their own consciences and not reflect or represent the people who elected them. So, for example, I observed that sitting behind us at General Conference was a delegation from another conference with 24 voting delegates. We did not have electronic voting at that time and many votes were taken by standing. On the matter of homosexual practice, there were a number of votes taken. The delegation always voted 23-1 or sometimes 22-2 to take the more permissive stance. I said something to the lone voter about the delegate being pretty much of one mind on the issue. He replied: “It is interesting because at our last annual conference the conference passed a resolution stating that the conference supported the present Discipline and was opposed to changes on homosexual practice paragraphs.”
I remember at that moment being very much aware of what I would later call “the gap.” There is a gap between the liberal seminary-trained pastors and laypersons and course of study pastors; there is a gap between prestigious county seat churches and outlying churches; there is a gap between board and agency staff and people in the pew. One person explained why his vote did not reflect his local church or annual conference: the people who elected me trust me and support my decisions because I have studied the issues and have been in the conference a long time.
The major concern of evangelicals at that time (as it is today) was doctrinal integrity. Concern for what the church believes and teaches about the gospel was being replaced by a new “gospel’” which basically taught that the way to the Kingdom was through social and economic and racial reform. Interest in doctrine was low. In the 1972 General Conference, the revised doctrinal statement was introduced, debated, and passed 923 to 17 all in eighteen minutes. This was followed by two days of debate on what United Methodists should believe on social issues. At the 1980 General Conference, no plenary time was given to any doctrinal concerns even though Good News and evangelicals had submitted over 500 petitions on these matters. Almost all had overwhelmingly been voted non-concurrence and placed on the consent calendar.
Then, suddenly there was a reversal. Because of Good News and other evangelicals, before 1984 nearly 500 petitions were submitted by individuals and churches asking for specific changes in the doctrinal statement. However, instead of asking for a new committee to revise the statement (as in 1980) the petitions sought to change words, sentences, and paragraphs. The sub-legislative group on doctrine from the Discipleship Legislative group was so overwhelmed they themselves asked for a new task force to revise the statement.
Related to this were petitions and resolutions from a Task Force on Language Guidelines. The task force was heavily weighted by feminists from seminaries and boards of agencies. The report spoke of “the usable past” and “the useless past” of the Bible and tradition. It argued that the Biblical, theological, and ecclesial traditions that were part of the “useless past” must be updated so that the “liberating power of God’s love can breakthrough in new words and actions.” I realized at that point, more than I ever had before in my ministry, that if seminary professors and committees of the church believe they have the authority to declare what is “useful” and what is “useless” in our faith, we are going to end up with a different religion (which is what is happening today).
The reports and resolutions called for all kinds of radical changes in language. Words like “Father,” “Lord,” “King,” as well as male pronouns for God must be replaced or at least balanced with feminine images, names, and pronouns for God. The language guidelines were to be applied in all the literature of the church, whether in Sunday school material or the hymnal or in the liturgy or in everyday conversation. Originally the report called for another monitoring agency (such as the commissions on Religion & Race and Status & Role of Women) whose task would be to enforce and ensure language policies were being followed. Our institutional parents would instruct us how to talk and think.
The only evangelical renewal group at that time, Good News, made known the implications of the report and nearly 1,000 petitions from individuals and local churches called for the retention of Biblical language and images, especially regarding the new hymnal.
After lengthy debate, the report Words that Hurt and Words That Heal was “received” but not adopted. Then, after a late-night special meeting of the Discipleship legislative group, a revision was accepted that declared “The Hymnal Committee shall be instructed to respect the language of traditional hymns as contained in the 1964-66 United Methodist Hymnal.” A few months later I would be asked to serve as a consultant on the committee.
When home I wrote to my churches that the views of ordinary United Methodists still count. I felt good about the future of United Methodism. Unfortunately, that optimism would be challenged in the coming months.
