General Assembly -- Postlude
Sitting in the airport at the end of a week of church, there are so many souvenirs to meditate on.
First, getting to reconnect with old and new friends and colleagues was a real treat. Some I had not seen in thirty years--shout out to fellow Davidson alum and former XC teammate, Caroline Kelly, now pastoring in Cumberland, MD. Some I am getting to know better as we work together--all my friends and cohorts in the Synod of the Pacific. Some were seminary classmates or coworkers from past Presbyteries. Some were Facebook friends who are now life and blood people for me. For a Presbyter, that is what General Assembly is by and large. We have no real responsibility other than being there, so we spend our time working on connections, living into the connectionalism that is the lifeblood of Presbyterianism. I got to know seminary folk, people from other presbyteries who will provide access to resources we desperately need in Sacramento, and leaders from GA. Ironically, the one group I did not get to see a whole lot was the group from my own Presbytery of Sacramento.
Second, I come home from General Assembly feeling good about who we are as a denomination. There was a real and genuine effort to make decisions on delicate, sensitive, and profound issues that left the door open for everyone to remain at the table, even if we still are far from consensus on what to do faithfully. Yes, there were times when we bordered on stereotype, parsing semicolons and verb tenses in motions for action, but in the end, the decisions made take us home able to move forward into faithful engagement with the world. In the end, it is that word--engagement--that seems to be the defining principle for the time to come. We recognize that our only real hope is to take church outside the building. The world is hungry for that. The world needs that. We cannot retreat into the mighty fortress, waiting for the world to join us.
Which leads to a comment made by one of our Sacramento commissioners--Right now, our evangelism is simply moving people from one church to another, while completely missing the people with no church. In Northern California, this statement resoundingly rings true. 85% of our neighbors are the Nones--and they are stridently Nones--no religious affiliation at all. We have to do more than shuffle members between one church and another, calling that growth. It means we have to speak intelligibly to people who have no understanding of God, religious practice, or faithful response, other than the stereotype of a moralistic, bigoted, judgmental, and isolationist religious group. That means we also have to be palatable--something that immediately fires defensiveness within us, but something we have to do to reveal the true nature of Christ's radical welcome for any and all, a welcome grounded in and meant to convey self-emptying compassion for the Least of These. If we can be true to the truest form of the Gospel--the cross and all it implies--then we can help others find the meaning, purpose, and beauty of being children of God.
Which, in turn, leads to another observation. One of the most painful memories will be the ubiquitous homeless. While we met in the comfort and wonder of the Oregon Convention Center after spending the night in safe, secure, and, yes, plush hotels, we rode the trains and walked past and through the homeless sleeping in doorways, against railings, and roaming the city, looking for anything and everything. The compounded tragedy is that many of the homeless in Portland are young. My guess is that these are kids drawn to Portland's openness, liberality, and presumed opportunity. Portland has all of that, but it is still an American city--you gotta have cash if you want to make it. Drugs are also devastatingly present in the human misery seen. So, couple no money, addiction, and closed doors, and you get a catastrophe. Throw in a goodly dose of mental illness and catastrophe becomes epochal. I fear that many of us are frozen in our response--the problem is so vast and overwhelming that we literally do not have any clue of where to begin, so we freeze, doing nothing. We avert our eyes. We step over the guy sleeping on the floor of the train going to the airport.
The thing is that there is a solution.
It is us.
General Assembly proved nothing if it did not prove that Presbyterians are sincere, dedicated, and hungering to be part of the transformation and transcendence of the world, bringing Christ raised to the world. We gather together and feel the potential power of what we could do. Then we leave. Individually or in tiny clumps, we rode back to the airport, small again.
We need to constantly remind ourselves that we are not small. The same strength, fellowship, and, yes, power present in our assembly is always with us--no ONE of us is at this alone; no single presbytery is on its own; and no congregation is out there by itself. Even more importantly and more surely, God is present. All our preachers reminded us of that. God reconciles us to one another and to the world. God forms our fellowship. God breathes life into all that we say and do. God is with us--my goodness, that is Jesus' name--Immanuel, God with us!
We can act for change. We can act for transformation. Together, we could well end the pain before us.
So, there it is--all those connections I made--they are tools. I have to use them. I cannot simply go home, go to my office, and pray all will change; I am called to act--to bring those connections to life through God and with God's help.
We can make the change.
We can BE the change.
May God go with us.
First, getting to reconnect with old and new friends and colleagues was a real treat. Some I had not seen in thirty years--shout out to fellow Davidson alum and former XC teammate, Caroline Kelly, now pastoring in Cumberland, MD. Some I am getting to know better as we work together--all my friends and cohorts in the Synod of the Pacific. Some were seminary classmates or coworkers from past Presbyteries. Some were Facebook friends who are now life and blood people for me. For a Presbyter, that is what General Assembly is by and large. We have no real responsibility other than being there, so we spend our time working on connections, living into the connectionalism that is the lifeblood of Presbyterianism. I got to know seminary folk, people from other presbyteries who will provide access to resources we desperately need in Sacramento, and leaders from GA. Ironically, the one group I did not get to see a whole lot was the group from my own Presbytery of Sacramento.
Second, I come home from General Assembly feeling good about who we are as a denomination. There was a real and genuine effort to make decisions on delicate, sensitive, and profound issues that left the door open for everyone to remain at the table, even if we still are far from consensus on what to do faithfully. Yes, there were times when we bordered on stereotype, parsing semicolons and verb tenses in motions for action, but in the end, the decisions made take us home able to move forward into faithful engagement with the world. In the end, it is that word--engagement--that seems to be the defining principle for the time to come. We recognize that our only real hope is to take church outside the building. The world is hungry for that. The world needs that. We cannot retreat into the mighty fortress, waiting for the world to join us.
Which leads to a comment made by one of our Sacramento commissioners--Right now, our evangelism is simply moving people from one church to another, while completely missing the people with no church. In Northern California, this statement resoundingly rings true. 85% of our neighbors are the Nones--and they are stridently Nones--no religious affiliation at all. We have to do more than shuffle members between one church and another, calling that growth. It means we have to speak intelligibly to people who have no understanding of God, religious practice, or faithful response, other than the stereotype of a moralistic, bigoted, judgmental, and isolationist religious group. That means we also have to be palatable--something that immediately fires defensiveness within us, but something we have to do to reveal the true nature of Christ's radical welcome for any and all, a welcome grounded in and meant to convey self-emptying compassion for the Least of These. If we can be true to the truest form of the Gospel--the cross and all it implies--then we can help others find the meaning, purpose, and beauty of being children of God.
Which, in turn, leads to another observation. One of the most painful memories will be the ubiquitous homeless. While we met in the comfort and wonder of the Oregon Convention Center after spending the night in safe, secure, and, yes, plush hotels, we rode the trains and walked past and through the homeless sleeping in doorways, against railings, and roaming the city, looking for anything and everything. The compounded tragedy is that many of the homeless in Portland are young. My guess is that these are kids drawn to Portland's openness, liberality, and presumed opportunity. Portland has all of that, but it is still an American city--you gotta have cash if you want to make it. Drugs are also devastatingly present in the human misery seen. So, couple no money, addiction, and closed doors, and you get a catastrophe. Throw in a goodly dose of mental illness and catastrophe becomes epochal. I fear that many of us are frozen in our response--the problem is so vast and overwhelming that we literally do not have any clue of where to begin, so we freeze, doing nothing. We avert our eyes. We step over the guy sleeping on the floor of the train going to the airport.
The thing is that there is a solution.
It is us.
General Assembly proved nothing if it did not prove that Presbyterians are sincere, dedicated, and hungering to be part of the transformation and transcendence of the world, bringing Christ raised to the world. We gather together and feel the potential power of what we could do. Then we leave. Individually or in tiny clumps, we rode back to the airport, small again.
We need to constantly remind ourselves that we are not small. The same strength, fellowship, and, yes, power present in our assembly is always with us--no ONE of us is at this alone; no single presbytery is on its own; and no congregation is out there by itself. Even more importantly and more surely, God is present. All our preachers reminded us of that. God reconciles us to one another and to the world. God forms our fellowship. God breathes life into all that we say and do. God is with us--my goodness, that is Jesus' name--Immanuel, God with us!
We can act for change. We can act for transformation. Together, we could well end the pain before us.
So, there it is--all those connections I made--they are tools. I have to use them. I cannot simply go home, go to my office, and pray all will change; I am called to act--to bring those connections to life through God and with God's help.
We can make the change.
We can BE the change.
May God go with us.
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