The Indecency of Hope

by Steve | Jan 11, 2021 | Jan-Feb 2021, Magazine, Magazine Articles

Original art by Scott Erickson (www.scottericksonart.com).

By Elizabeth Glass Turner – 

There are two kinds of propaganda: the true and the false. Propaganda is a charged word, evoking a range of associations depending on your nationality or job. Marketing professionals may harbor fondness for it; historians, less so. But people from a variety of studies will object to the assertion that there are only two kinds. You can read about seven kinds of propaganda, nine kinds of propaganda, all kinds of propaganda and examples of usage, though many of these categories are simply informal verbal fallacies used by advertisers. A celebrity uses this shampoo so you should, too. Nine out of ten users prefer this brand so you will, too (from a survey of people receiving compensation to test it, of course). 

Historians may point out that effective political propaganda trades in half-truths and omissions. The word propaganda always brings luggage with it: baggage crammed with ideology, spilling out like stray socks from the bulging suitcase of a refugee fleeing a totalitarian regime. But half-truths and omissions are not good-faith communication; a shampoo manufacturer that claims its products are good for your hair – the hair remaining after you use it, anyway – will not last long. No, in the end, propaganda really does boil down to two types: the true and the false. 

The question is whether or not hope is merely propaganda – even the true kind.

It’s an important time to grow in our individual and collective capacity to practice hope. And we do practice it; it’s not something that we simply possess or lack. Multiple crises on varying fronts demand that after we have processed shock, dismay, disbelief, and grief – we grow. We cannot regress. We cannot go back. We cannot shrink into shadows of ourselves permanently. Undoubtedly, there are doctors and nurses, grieving families and exhausted pastors who will find themselves starting awake with jolts of adrenaline for months to come, waves of post-traumatic stress reorienting internal terrain, shaping the landscape of the brain away from old well-worn paths. 

Healing takes time. So does hope. And hope is much more than a feeling: it is knowledge. Hope is the knowledge, from experience, that after the worst day of your life, there will come a day when you laugh again. Hope is the knowledge, from experience, that following Jesus Christ will not prevent you from experiencing tragedy but may anchor you from utter spiritual ship-wreck in the face of tragedy. Hope is the knowledge of Jesus Christ when you have lost everything, and losing everything is never glamorously dramatic or inspiring, it’s only awful, ugly, profane.

Hope is never mere propaganda when it looks like this – it’s not marketable enough. Whoever believes Karl Marx’s sneering comment that “religion is the opiate of the people” – an existential placebo to alleviate suffering by lulling the masses into compliance with injustice – is little acquainted with religion that practices temperance, self-control, ascetism, generosity, and the profound power of non-violent resistance. 

Religion is only an opiate when it is comfortable, and Christianity is not comfortable. If it is, then we are on autopilot; we are not hearing the calls and commands of Jesus Christ. As C.S. Lewis so famously noted, “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”

In our time, we cannot respond to the compelling call to practice hope if we settle for the comfortable instead. In North America, we avoid becoming people of hope in the church through convenience and through the cult of individualism. If disciples blur into convenience store consumers, we lose our ability to practice hope, because we cannot sit with discomfort for long. If disciples blur from members of the universal Body of Christ into individual monarchs of our own lives, we lose our ability to practice hope, because we cannot sit with others’ discomfort for long. And if we lose our ability to practice hope, then preaching hope becomes mere propaganda – an inspirational slogan or platitude given without the dogged discipline of practicing hope. 

If we are to discipline ourselves to be people of hope – and that is who we are called to be – then we must begin the basic steps of identifying and rejecting convenience, and identifying and rejecting untethered individualism. These are the scales we practice everyday at the piano, plunking out notes up the keyboard and down again, shifting our fingers slightly, and restarting the journey up the keyboard and down again. These are the chords; this is how we practice hope. Choosing inconvenience and choosing to be rooted in the communion of saints settle the practice of hope into our muscle memory.

We don’t practice alone, of course; the very community toward which we pivot in our practice of hope has placed what we need within reach, in the shape of the liturgical calendar. People of hope grasp the oddity of timing; during Lent, a season of penance and fasting, a baby is born, and we celebrate; during Advent, a time to look toward the joy of Christmas, a loved one dies, and we mourn. 

The rhythm of the liturgical calendar eludes reduction to propaganda because we are always remembering that we are dust, and to dust we shall return; and that Christ has come to bring life, and bring it abundantly. To gently detach from the lure of convenience is to hone discernment of the oddity of timing.

Jesus knew full well that sometimes people thought his timing was indecent. During a storm, he snored below deck; when a dear friend was dying, he delayed his trip and showed up late; when he showed up late, he seemed insensitive to the reality of decay, ordering a grave to be opened; when his family members summoned him, he ignored them; when a community meted out prescribed justice, he intervened in front of raised rocks on behalf of a half-naked woman; not long after a triumphal entry, he sweat blood while praying; when he had a chance to defend himself to authorities (surely a moment for public evangelization), he remained silent. 

His timing, his hope seemed indecent, because he knew what others did not. For Christians, hope is never only an emotive feeling; sometimes, it is grim, bare-knuckled knowledge of the real. This truth inoculates us from the flippant recklessness of pseudo-hope. Hope is never denial of reality; it is practiced in the crucible of reality.

Jesus’ timing wasn’t self-conscious edginess for the sake of being a provocateur; the Way can’t be reduced to a publicity stunt. His antagonists frequently tried to catch him, to make a name for themselves by setting rhetorical or situational or physical traps. Sometimes they were certain they’d finally gotten him. On a more cosmic scale, early church literature provides vivid dramatic depiction of the exultant triumph in hell at the crucifixion of Christ collapsing as evil realizes that it has taken the bait and brought its own doom upon its head – the sulfurous hordes clamoring for the gates to be barred before the prince of peace can enter but too late – the lamb worthy to harrow hell arrives, thundering. 

The dramatic imagining of this shocked, frantic scene conveys what we need to know: evil does not have the luxury of ultimate hope, but sometimes, the road to hope leads through hell. Hardly a marketable selling point. Yet the call to indecent hope remains.

When we mindfully examine and dislodge habits of convenience and individualism, when we practice the ability to sit with discomfort and locate ourselves in community and not our little shingled monarchies, we develop an ear to hear a different clock ticking – a different time being kept: the metro-nome of indecent hope. 

To become people of hope is to become increasingly alert to the movements of the Holy Spirit. “Be alert,” scripture tells us. Of course, this doesn’t mean to be distracted and swayed by everything that crosses our desk, pulpit, computer screen, voice mail, or smartphone. It means being able to discern which things crossing our paths are pivotal to our development or to serving others. When we are alert in hope, we do not instinctively lean toward the convenient without examining our instinct; we do not lean instinctively toward individualist actions and values without examining our instinct. We do not give everything the same level of attention; we are wary of the messages pelting our way. 

People of hope are not easily led up the garden path because we know there’s nothing new under the sun. We are not desperate for longshots because we are settled in the reality of Jesus Christ, who was and is and is to come. We are not quick to believe everything because it is in the lamb of God that we live and move and have our being. 

Followers of Jesus practice hope, and in practicing hope, we improve our stance. Skilled martial artists assess each others’ stance to find openings – leverage for combat advantage. The basic starting position in most martial arts provides force for attacks and stability in defense. It is in the thick of the battle that it becomes essential to spot openings by the opponent or to avoid presenting openings to the opponent. So, too, it is not in vague determination for victory that we find our hope; we find it in the tedious daily practice of scales at the keyboard, and we find it in the drills that sharpen our situational awareness, cuing us to pivotal moments or guarding us from unintentionally presenting openings that can be leveraged for our defeat. 

Indecent hope, then, is not the bland hope of ignorance. It is a blade that cuts through un-truth, half-truth, pseudo-truth: all the propaganda the universe has on offer, from the doubt spread by the serpent who hissed well-placed questions, to the propositions and circumstances bombarding our day to day lives. We do not have time for anything less.

Our world needs us, desperately. Our siblings in Christ need us, desperately. They do not need our well-intentioned propaganda of inspirational well-wishing. They need our hands, our feet, our pocketbooks, our attention, our focus, our compassion, our time. They need Jesus and we are his Body. 

The call to indecent hope inevitably morphs into a call to action – not yet another dreaded summons to exhausted caregivers praying for a bit of sleep before the next patient codes or the child reawakens. This call to action rings up and down the flow chart, pulpit to pews and back again, like an old church bell summoning anyone and everyone to a bucket brigade for a house on fire.

Eight months before Covid-19 emerged onto the world stage, thousands of miles from Wuhan, a fire alarm sounded. Notre Dame was burning: “our lady” was crumbling in flames, and firefighters struggled to control the fire eating the famous Paris cathedral from the inside out. The images were stark: blackened, sooty wreckage collapsed in front of aging stone arches, a cross still standing in the background. 

Even the most low-church worshipers viewed the images with dismay. It seemed profane, somehow: the disintegration of a holy place. The catastrophic losses to a different out-of-control inferno seem no less profane: over 300,000 Americans lost to a viral plague as of mid-December 2020, the equivalent of approximately 94 September 11th attacks. 

Hope can feel almost indecent when faced with the weight of the world’s suffering. And it would be – without the weighty truth of Jesus Christ. Jesus, who harrowed hell; who is not undone at the destructive force of the hottest fires this world can burn; who knows the name of each casualty, numbers the hairs of each individual, stands next to each overwhelmed physician; who exploits every opening that evil leaves, turning the tables on the propaganda of despair, knocking the teeth out of hopelessness, bellowing a song of healing.

Artist and writer Makoto Fujimura, who recently released Art and Faith: A Theology of Making, pressed a few quiet insights into the palms of weary fellow believers recently on social media: “create something unique and new against fear,” echoing a similar encouragement to “make towards the new,” a lovely nudge toward the substantive hope of heaven and a new creation. He writes, “Art making, to me, is a discipline of awareness, prayer, and praise.” The discipline of awareness, prayer, and praise – how like hope that sounds. Are we ready to practice being brazen enough to look for sprouting leaves in the light beaming through the open void of a burned-out roof?

Elizabeth Glass Turner, a frequent contributor to Good News, is the editor of Wesleyan Accent (www.wesleyanaccent.com). 

General Conference Options

by Steve | Jan 11, 2021 | Jan-Feb 2021, Magazine, Magazine Articles

Minneapolis Convention Center. Photo courtesy of Meet Minneapolis/Amy Coppersmith Photography.

By Thomas Lambrecht

As the Covid-19 pandemic continues to ramp up across the U.S. and around the world, church leaders are thinking once again of General Conference, scheduled for August 29-September 7, 2021, in Minneapolis, Minnesota. There are rumors floating around that General Conference is going to be postponed again. Those rumors are not correct. No such decision has been made to postpone General Conference a second time.

But in the interest of addressing the concerns about the possibility of a “normal” General Conference next year, some of the options that could be considered should be examined, along with their pros and cons.

A Full Ten-Day In-Person General Conference as Scheduled. This option would be the preferred choice of most delegates, all things being equal. There is no substitute for gathering in-person to ask questions, engage in discussion, and modify proposals that the General Conference will consider. This option envisions dealing with the Protocol for Separation along with all the other legislative items (budget, new Social Principles, bishops for Africa, resolutions on social issues, etc.). Having a “normal” General Conference is what we are used to, and it has been planned for the last nine years. The people of the Minnesota Conference have prepared extensively to host this event and are ready to do so.

Obviously, the biggest downside to this option is the question about whether global travel will be possible by August. Complicating matters is the need for non-U.S. delegates – more than 370 out of a total 862 delegates – to obtain visas in order to attend. Right now, U.S. embassies are not granting visas for visits to the U.S. Will they be open and able to grant such visas in enough time for delegates to obtain them and participate in the General Conference?

This hinges on the availability of a vaccine. Most health experts expect that a vaccine will be broadly available to the American public by the middle of next year, if not earlier. It will take time for a substantial percentage of the U.S. population to be vaccinated and to make large gatherings possible once again. (Minnesota is currently banning indoor gatherings of 250 or more.) But it is far less certain that the populations in Africa and the Philippines will have broad access to a vaccine that quickly.

Applications for a visa will probably require proof of vaccination. Some of the vaccines being tested right now require two doses a month apart. It is unknown whether there will be enough doses of the vaccine available to cover the populations of developing countries, including the delegates that would travel to Minneapolis, in time for them to obtain visas.

Holding General Conference without the participation of most of the delegates from outside the U.S. would be legal, but it would be morally wrong, unless there are no other options. Delegates from outside the U.S. make up about 44 percent of the conference. Making decisions about the future of the church with such a large part of the body missing is unthinkable. The decisions made by such a General Conference would be forever suspect.

Another downside to holding a “normal” General Conference is its impact on how to deal with the consequences of separation. If, as expected, the Protocol for Separation passes General Conference, the stage would be set for forming a new conservative Methodist denomination. That new denomination will maintain some of the UM Church’s current positions (for instance, regarding marriage and human sexuality, as well as basic doctrinal standards), while wanting to streamline the way the church operates. At the same time, those remaining in the continuing UM Church will want to make changes, as well. They will liberalize its position on marriage and ordination for LGBTQ persons, add the possibility of a U.S. central conference that enables each region of the world to be self-governing, and probably trim the size and number of general church boards and agencies. Many 2021 delegates will likely decide to align with the new traditionalist denomination. As a result, hundreds of delegates would be voting on petitions that will create or defeat rules for a denomination they will not be part of following separation.

An Abbreviated General Conference Agenda. One solution to this last problem would be to shorten the agenda of General Conference to deal only with those items of business that are necessary to prepare the way for separation. These would include the Protocol itself, the quadrennial budget, election of some general church officers (for example, the Judicial Council), and changes to the pension program as voted by the 2019 General Conference. All other petitions and proposals could be referred to the next (post-separation) UM General Conference.

This abbreviated agenda would allow essential matters to be addressed in implementing the separation. A special General Conference for the post-separation UM Church could then meet in fall 2022 or spring 2023 with new delegates elected from those parts of the church that remain with it. That special General Conference could then enact all the changes to The United Methodist Church envisioned by progressives and centrists without interference from conservative delegates who will not be part of the post-separation UM Church. The new traditionalist Methodist denomination would have its own convening general conference in roughly the same time frame to formally establish its policies and governance.

A Virtual General Conference. Most people have gotten used to participating in meetings and worship through video conference applications, such as Zoom. A number of annual conferences have successfully met virtually using video conference technology. If international travel is impossible, a virtual conference might be possible. Some UM leaders are urging consideration of this option, and the Commission on the General Conference has formed a technology study team to examine this alternative.

A virtual conference would have to be limited to an abbreviated agenda, as described above. Given the number of people involved in the online platform, the pace of discussion and action would be much slower, so fewer items could be dealt with. Because of the time differences between Africa, Europe, and the Philippines, the working day would be much shorter – perhaps only six hours. This would again speak in favor of an abbreviated agenda spread over several days.

Many of the virtual annual conferences allowed participants to sign in from their home or office. That could still work for the U.S. and Europe. However, Africa and the Philippines might find it necessary for delegates to meet at central locations in order to adequately provide for secure Internet connection that can handle a more reliable video conferencing situation. If that were the case, it would be fairer to require all delegates to meet in central locations for the duration of the conference. United Methodist missiologist David Scott calls this format a “distributed” General Conference, since groups of delegates would be meeting in person, while interacting with other groups virtually.

If a virtual format were adopted, legislative committees would be impossible. Instead, the conference would need to follow the pattern of the 2019 General Conference, where the body operated as a committee of the whole to perfect legislation before finally voting on it in plenary session.

This model for holding General Conference could also enhance participation by individual delegates. There could be time before, during, or after the plenary sessions for delegations to discuss the business of the conference and ask questions. Those questions could be posed in writing to the bishop who is presiding over the whole General Conference. The bishop could then organize a response to all of the various questions that are asked, without having to do so on the spur of the moment. That would allow for more efficient use of time. Speeches for and against could be rotated among the jurisdictions and central conferences to give every area a chance to be heard.

One difficulty with this approach is ensuring the integrity of the delegates. It would be important to create a process to ensure that the delegates properly elected by the annual conferences were the delegates who were voting. But there is no way to guarantee that the rules are being followed in each annual conference. We ultimately rely on the trust and integrity of our leaders.

Another difficulty is the possibility that individual delegates could be manipulated by false or misleading information. The General Conference staff would need to ensure that all delegates received the same information. Explanatory information could be video recorded ahead of time and shown to the various delegations in their own language. Answers to questions would need to come from trusted sources of centralized information. The presence of official observers could ensure delegate voting integrity and the impartiality of how delegate groups are administered.

A third issue with this option is the possible loss of money obligated under contract to the hotels and conference venue. Even with a potential loss, however, a virtual conference would cost far less because the travel costs would be much lower. Money saved could be used to supply needed technology equipment for annual conferences to participate virtually. But a special called session of General Conference in Minneapolis in 2022 or 2023 could greatly reduce or eliminate any loss of deposits. 

Could Additional Petitions Be Submitted? Regardless of what format General Conference would take, the question has been raised about submitting additional petitions. So far, the Commission on the General Conference has maintained that the only legislation to be considered would be petitions properly submitted to the 2020 General Conference.

If the Commission were to change its mind, or if the Judicial Council were to rule that additional petitions could be submitted, the deadline for individual petitions would be January 11, 2021, 230 days prior to the convening of General Conference. However, annual conferences could submit petitions after that date, as long as they were submitted by July 15, 2021. (I personally believe that, under the Discipline, additional petitions would have to be allowed.)

A Special General Conference. The Council of Bishops could call a special General Conference that could meet virtually even before the scheduled date of August 29, 2021. This special session could deal only with the matters covered in the call, which would be the abbreviated agenda proposed above. That would reduce or eliminate the number of additional petitions to be submitted. It would also focus the General Conference on resolving the question of separation, so that all parts of the church could move forward in the way they believe God is leading them.

The regular session of the General Conference that was scheduled for August 29, 2021, could then be postponed to spring of 2023. That would allow the annual conferences and congregations remaining in the post-separation United Methodist Church to elect new delegates representing a centrist/progressive vision for the church. It would hopefully allow enough time for the whole world to be vaccinated and obtain visas as necessary for travel. The conference could be held in Minneapolis, which might diminish or eliminate any financial loss of money deposited for the 2021 General Conference session. And it would take advantage of all the preparations that have been done for 2021.

What If General Conference Is Postponed Again? If none of the above options are chosen, and instead the General Conference is postponed until 2022 or even 2024, the church will begin to unravel. Many local churches and some annual conferences are hanging on in hopes that the General Conference will meet and provide resolution to our conflict. If that does not happen, some of them will depart. A piecemeal departure of churches and annual conferences serves no good purpose, as it weakens the current church and may not result in a viable new denomination.

Under the Protocol, annual conferences must vote by 57 percent or more to separate from the UM Church and align with a new denomination. If there is no Protocol, annual conferences could separate with a simple majority vote. Lawsuits could be filed to protest such an action, but they would be expensive and protract the struggle for years or even a decade in court.

Local churches might sue their annual conference to separate. If many local churches sued the annual conference separately, the annual conference would not be able to bear the cost of defending so many lawsuits, and would be forced to settle with local churches for pennies on the dollar.

One of the major goals of the Protocol was to resolve the conflict by providing an avenue for separation, thus avoiding lawsuits. Delaying action would open the door to wholesale legal actions that would cost millions of dollars. That money would be better spent on the mission of the church, rather than in courtrooms.

And if there were no Protocol, the conflict would resume within the UM Church. Right now, there is a moratorium on complaints and trials. However, if General Conference is postponed again, that moratorium would fade. Complaints would be filed, trials would be demanded, and conflict would ramp up again.

Most of the people who have been following this conflict for the last several decades are ready for it to be over. They are not willing to wait another year or three. Too much is at stake, given our current inability to pursue the church’s mission unhindered. Postponement is not a healthy option.

Act to Resolve. No matter which option is chosen, there are advantages and disadvantages for each. Some options may ultimately be ruled out by events beyond the control of the church. It is helpful to think through the various possibilities and strive for one that maximizes fairness and universal participation, while providing for the clearest and earliest resolution to the deep divisions within our denomination. While we are engaged in conflict, we are not moving forward. It’s as if two people are in opposite ends of a canoe rowing in opposite directions. Meanwhile, the canoe is sinking. It is time to act to resolve the conflict for the sake of the church’s future.  

Thomas Lambrecht is a United Methodist clergyperson and the vice president of Good News. 

Water is Life

by Steve | Jan 11, 2021 | Jan-Feb 2021, Magazine, Magazine Articles

Joseph Ekow, then 5, catches the final trickle of water after filling his bucket at a well behind John Kofi Asmah United Methodist Church in the West Point neighborhood in Monrovia, Liberia, in 2017. Many families in this dense, urban area lack access to pipe water. Photo by Mike DuBose, UM News.

Photography by Mike DuBose, story by Kathy L. Gilbert –

“Water is life,” the women sing. At 4:30 a.m., it is pitch black in the village of Mzira in Malawi – a nation wedged between Zambia, Mozambique, and Tanzania. In the early morning sky, the Southern Cross and the Big Dipper look bright enough to walk on. Dogs howl and scurrying animals rustle through the maize fields. Women gather under the shadows of trees, buckets swinging, ready to embark on the first of many journeys they will make during the day to fetch water for their families.

As they gather, they chat, laugh, and count heads. Making their way through maize fields, creek and riverbeds, over slick rocks, and through other rough terrain, the women sing to encourage each other and to scare away anything or anyone that might be lurking in the dark – including “bad men who may be rapists.”

“Water is life, let us go and draw water, water is life, our children should go to school,” the women sing. The colorful plastic buckets most of them carry hold 5 gallons of water. The weight of water is 8.3 pounds per gallon. Light as air at the beginning of the journey, the filled buckets become heavy burdens balanced on their heads for the trip home. The singing and dancing never stops.

The precious water will be used to make porridge, wash dishes and clothes, and bathe children before they go off to school. Not a single drop is wasted. The used dishwater and bathwater is collected; some goes to the chickens and other animals. Some goes to the small kitchen garden. The water they scoop up comes from an “unprotected” well, explains Mercy Chikhosi. It looks like a big muddy hole. The women let the water settle in their containers so it looks clear when they dip a cup into it, but it is still dirty, unsafe water.

Chikhosi, a graduate of United Methodist Africa University in Zimbabwe with a degree in nursing, first came to this district in 2011 as a community health coordinator with Malawi United Methodist Church. She now works full time with Wandikweza, an organization she founded to support best practices in health care, developing sustainable communities, and empowering girls and women.

Search for water. Millions of people spend almost every moment of their lives seeking water. Millions more do not give it a second thought. Which category you are in depends a great deal on where you were born. According to the World Health Organization, people need 50 liters of water a day to keep health risks low. More than 800 children under 5 die every day from diarrhea diseases due to poor sanitation, poor hygiene, or unsafe drinking water.

The United Methodist Committee on Relief and its parent agency, the Board of Global Ministries, support water and sanitation projects worldwide. Projects include piping water into homes, providing tube wells, boreholes or rainwater storage systems, digging wells, installing flush toilets and septic tanks, and improving pit latrines and sanitary facilities.

Global Ministries reports that more than 750 million people around the world do not have reliable water access and even fewer have access to water for agriculture and household tasks. More than 2.4 billion people lack sanitation facilities. Every dollar spent on water, sanitation, and hygiene generates U.S. $4.30 in increased productivity and decreased health care costs. The United Nations reports a quarter of the major cities in the world face a water crisis.

Pastor Manuel Machavele leads a procession of church and community members following the dedication of a new water well in Lameque Mbulo village near Homoine, Mozambique. Photo by Mike DuBose, UM News.

Missouri, Mozambique connection. Many United Methodist conferences, such as the Missouri Conference through the Mozambique Initiative, established in 1988, contribute funds and volunteers to drill water wells. 

In 2019, 41 wells were completed through the initiative. The average per-person cost for a well in 2019 was $2.04. According to the local communities, these wells brought safe, clean water to 124,140 people.

The Missouri Conference reported that in 2019, a teenager set aside spare money throughout the year and donated $245 in December. Her individual effort provided clean water for 120 people.

Good drillers. Isidro Cumaio starts his story by saying, “It is difficult to find a good driller.” Cumaio, who founded his drilling company in 2014 with the support of his sons, has three good drillers in Adelino Cumbane, José Chambe, and José Conjo. Cumaio is a United Methodist and his faith is at the core of his inspiration and work.

“There are places where women spend the entire day walking to a water source,” he said. Sometimes the women construct a small shelter by the water source and spend the night there after walking all day, he explains. “They get up the next day and walk home to prepare meals and then go to fetch water again,” he said. “Women go fetch water with 20-liter containers. They won’t get home with a full container because they get thirsty, or they spill some of the water on the way back.”

Children and pregnant women have to help retrieve water and do household chores or work in the fields. If children can go to school, they have to bring water to their teachers. “Do you understand how their lives will change if they get clean, safe water in their villages? They see the drillers coming and they follow, running and celebrating. There is hope.”

Cumaio knows from personal experience how hard it is to have to fetch water and carry the heavy containers back home: He was 9 years old when he started having to walk 10 kilometers round trip to get water. “I had to fetch water before I went to school. I had to get up at 5 a.m.; school started at 6:30. It was a dream of mine to someday find a solution.” Cumaio started working for an Italian drilling company when he was 18. He worked hard and earned a scholarship to go to Italy to learn to become a driller. He has 27 people on his staff and three drilling rigs.

Felizarda Alexandre draws water from a shallow, open well in the bush outside Homoine, Mozambique. She is a member of Pembe United Methodist Church. Photo by Mike DuBose, UM News.

Every drop is precious. Driving from the nearest town of Homoine, it takes about two hours to get to Mudembelane once the vehicle turns off the paved road and plunges into the deep, sandy path. Huge cashew trees, monkey fruit trees, scraggly thorny bushes, and cacti line the curving drive. Driving back at night, the landscape looks like a sandy beach in the moonlight. Along the way is the Domo River, the only natural water source in this area.

Phembe United Methodist Church sits back from a freshly cleared lot where the new well will be drilled. The church is a small structure, half-covered by zinc sheets. The congregation raised the money to buy the few sheets by making and selling charcoal. The few rows of pews are tree limbs supported by hand-cut, large V’s pounded into the ground. Three walls made from branches are woven together with strips of bark. The back opens up to a space where villagers bring in plastic chairs for Sunday service.

The branches of a large cashew tree form the ceiling for an open kitchen. Chickens run around pecking for food just minutes before they become the food themselves. Women are mashing large pots of coconuts into pulp, stirring pots, washing dishes. Elder men sit in a circle in the shade.

Not far from the kitchen is an open well. The women go back and forth fetching water for cooking. This well is not stable and the water is unsafe. Men have died when the walls collapse while they dig these types of wells.

The Isidro Drilling Company is drilling a new well, financed by the Mozambique Initiative. It is the answer to many nights and days of praying and suffering. The mood is festive as the drillers arrive and pitch their tents. The drillers will live in the village until they strike water.

“It is a good morning for work to begin,” said the Rev. Pedro Marime. He spoke of John 4:5 and the Samaritan woman at the well. “We know the water we are drinking now is not safe. Jesus has presented us with this gift: water that will feed all of this community. God loves us so much to come to this place,” he said. Once work begins, the elders move their chairs to shady spots near the drilling area to watch and wait.

Hercilio Cumaio, 31, the eldest son of Isidro, who owns the drilling company, is here to supervise. Inside the church after the midday meal is served, he talks about his job. “A well is an overwhelming transformation. There is a lot of need out there,” he said, pointing beyond the door of the church. Surveys are done before the well site is chosen, but not every site produces water, he said. It takes days of drilling and there are many stumbling blocks to overcome.

“They see us as saviors and it is heavy to tell them we have failed,” Cumaio said. “We try at least three sites, then we have to ask the Mozambique Initiative for another location.” On the third day, this site is successful. The drill reached water at about 40 meters.

Water came to Mudembelane in the dark, cold night of October 1. Small fires were burning all around the drilling site in an effort to keep people warm and fight back the night. The drillers compress air into the pipes to force the water out. As the water started spraying, the women came singing. Rounding the corner, the firelight caught the joy on their faces. Their singing almost drowns out the shrill grinding of the compressor as the workers flushed the well to get the water clean and ready for use. 

The dedication of the well came a few days later and more than 300 people gathered to celebrate and thank God for the water. The Rev. Hortência Americo Langa Bacela, Mozambique South Conference director of connectional ministries, came to bring greetings from the bishop. Pastors, lay leaders, tribal leaders, and the grateful villagers made speeches. People danced and sang. The elders of the village and children were given sips of the fresh water. “We will live extra time because of this water,” said one elder. “We will live extra time to praise the Lord.”

Hortência Joaquim carries her empty bucket on the way to fetch water for her family from the Domo River outside Lameque Mbulo village near Homoine, Mozambique. Photo by Mike DuBose, UM News.

Driven by need. The weight of the water bucket cruelly constricts her neck, shoving her head down into her shoulders. The skin on her dark face shakes with the effort to stand up. Each step she takes pounds her bare feet into the earth, sending up puffs of ghostly dust. The bucket on her head holds 20 liters of water, about 44 pounds. The jug she also carries holds another 20 liters. Like the other women in her village, she is driven by the constant need for water.

Lameque Mbulo is a small village near Homoine, Mozambique. The walk to the Domo River takes about an hour. They dip their containers into the same water that cattle and other animals drink from, walk through, defecate in. Most children start to help fetch water around 9 years of age. The job usually goes to the girls. “You can’t get used to this, but we have no other way,” said Hortência Joaquim on the walk to the river.

“We go twice a day. It is tedious, but this is where we are, where we are living, and this need for water is why we have to walk,” agreed Maria Pedro Matsimbe. “I am very excited. I am missing words to express the joy and thanks to have water nearby,” Matsimbe said, watching the drillers prepare their work.

A school for first to seventh grades is on a dusty path beaten down between tall weeds by little feet. Sumburane Eugenio Mindo, a teacher at the school, talks about how much time the children miss because they are sick from drinking contaminated water. Each student is asked to bring 5 liters of water with them; 2 liters of water are kept in the administration building for teachers, he explains. There is a cistern on the school grounds, but it is cracked and hasn’t functioned for a long time. He imagines fresh, safe water in the village. Children will be able to stay in school. Women will not have to worry about so much sickness and death for their babies from drinking contaminated water.

The need for water has been a problem here for generations. Even though the villagers are grateful to have the well drilled here, they worry about all those who will still go without.

When the drill finds the deep vein of water, compressed air forces the water out of the pipes in a translucent burst. Excitement bubbles over for onlookers. Even though the drillers warn not to drink the water yet because it takes time to flush the chemicals out, it is too much for one young mother to resist. The water looks so perfect.

She fills her container and runs back into the huddle of women in the open-air kitchen. Her eyes sparkle as brightly as the water. She takes a cup and offers it to an older woman whose baby is strapped to her back. Before taking a sip herself, the older woman swings the baby around and pours water into her tiny mouth. The baby smiles, then the woman takes a sip and she smiles. Hope shines in their eyes – maybe this child will grow up with safe water. Maybe this child will be able to go to school instead of walking miles to carry water home.

This gift of life-giving water will change many lives.

Kathy Gilbert is a news writer and Mike DuBose a photographer for UM News. Joey Butler, a UM News multimedia editor, contributed to this story. Unless otherwise noted, the photography and reporting for this story were completed during trips to Malawi, Liberia and Zimbabwe in 2017, Côte d’Ivoire in 2018 and Mozambique in 2019. The entire photo essay can be found at https://spark.adobe.com/page/9JXwdq3ZKUekX/

Don’t Take My Word for It: Read Wesley Yourself

by Steve | Jan 11, 2021 | Jan-Feb 2021, Magazine, Magazine Articles

Don’t Take My Word for It: Read Wesley Yourself

By Jason Vickers

In his splendid introduction to St. Athanasius’ On the Incarnation, C. S. Lewis observed that people often think that older books or primary sources are more difficult to understand than secondary works written by reputable scholars. “This mistaken preference for the modern books,” he said, “is nowhere more rampant than in theology.” Against this preference, Lewis insisted that “firsthand knowledge is not only more worth acquiring than secondhand knowledge, but is usually much easier and delightful to acquire.” Consequently, if people could read “only the new or only the old,” Lewis urged them to “read the old.” In fact, he went so far as to say, “It is a good rule, after reading a new book, never to allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between.”   

Over the last half century or so, scholars have written dozens of new books about John Wesley. There is now vast secondary literature on virtually every aspect of the founder of Methodism’s life and thought. And there is no shortage of disagreement over how to interpret Wesley. After all, that’s how we scholars make our living. We critique and challenge prevailing views in the name of complexity and nuance. Intentionally or not, this can give the impression that Wesley himself must be difficult to read. Some people might even be tempted to forego reading Wesley in favor of one of the new scholarly books about Wesley.  

An additional factor that can discourage people from reading Wesley for themselves is the simple fact that Wesley wrote a lot, including letters and diaries, occasional treatises, edited volumes, commentaries or “notes” on the Bible, and sermons. With so much material at hand, it can be hard to know where to begin. The good news is that Wesley intended the overwhelming majority of what he wrote for the theological and spiritual edification of the people called Methodists. To be sure, he occasionally had other motives for writing, but his main concern was to develop and publish materials that would help people come to know God more truly and to love God and neighbor more fully each day. He wrote to educate, challenge, encourage, and inspire his readers in their journey with God and with one another. With this in mind, one could almost start reading anywhere. 

For those who have never read Wesley for themselves, his sermons are the best place to begin. They are widely available on the internet and in numerous print collections. They contain Wesley’s views on every aspect of the Christian life. They have nurtured the minds and hearts of thousands of believers across the centuries. They can justifiably be described as a classic of Christian theology and spirituality.

In a class that I teach at Asbury Theological Seminary, I regularly assign Wesley’s sermons to students, many of whom are reading Wesley for the first time. Over the years, two reactions have been common. First, when people begin reading the sermons, they almost always comment on Wesley’s writing style. Wesley writes with the King’s English.

For many first timers, his sermons remind them of the King James Bible. Words like “thee” and “thou” and “speaketh” and “heareth” appear on every page. Suffice it to say, this takes a little getting used to. The key is to stick with it. After a few weeks or even a few days, most people get used to Wesley’s vocabulary. But be careful, the King’s English is contagious. You might even find yourself dropping a “thee” or “thou” at your next tea party.

The second reaction common among first time readers of Wesley is the more noteworthy of the two. In one sense, the King’s English notwithstanding, Wesley’s sermons are easy enough to read. There are technical theological terms like justification, regeneration, and sanctification, but Wesley is always careful to define his terms. If anything, reading Wesley’s sermons will help you build a good working theological vocabulary. In another sense, however, those who are new to Wesley often find him quite difficult to read. The difficulty or problem is not with his vocabulary, but with what he has to say to us.   

Without fail, first time readers of Wesley’s sermons often find themselves somewhere between perplexed and appalled. They frequently say things like, “He can’t be serious, can he?” Or, “Did he really believe that?” On more than one occasion, I have seen seminary students visibly shaking their heads in disbelief. The real problem isn’t the King’s English; it’s that he says things that strike many people today as outlandish or absurd. As one student candidly remarked, “It’s great to set the bar high and all, but this is ridiculous!”

Part of the challenge with reading Wesley’s sermons is that he isn’t writing to tell us all about his summer vacation or his new horse. In fact, Wesley rarely writes about anything trivial or funny. Rather, he is writing because he wants us to be sanctified. The single motivation behind all that he recommends and all that he opposes is the sanctification of his readers. But before we can make serious headway on the road to sanctification, Wesley believes that he must first clear away the obstacles in our thinking that prevent us from knowing God truly and loving God and neighbor as we ought.

I believe that it is this work of clearing away obstacles in our thinking, or what we might call bad theological habits, that leads Wesley to say things that sound outlandish in our ears. In other words, Wesley doesn’t assume that we are well-formed theologically. If anything, he assumes the opposite, namely, that we are theologically malformed, or at the very least, theologically malnourished. And because he believes this, he sometimes resorts to rhetorical strategies that leave us shaking our heads. So, when you find something in Wesley that sounds absurd, the question you should ask is, what is he trying to do here? And you could do worse when reading Wesley than to keep in mind novelist Flannery O’ Connor’s famous comment in Mystery and Manners: 

“When you can assume that your audience holds the same beliefs you do, you can relax a little and use more normal ways of talking to it; when you have to assume that it does not, then you have to make your vision apparent by shock – to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost blind you draw large and startling figures.”

In many ways, this really is the right way to read Wesley’s sermons. He writes to us as though we are theologically and spiritually blind and deaf. Or, to use one of his favorite metaphors, he writes to us as though we are theologically and spiritually asleep. And more than anything else, he wants us to wake up! For example, in the sermon, “The Image of God,” he wants to wake us up to the fact that, contrary to what many people think, all human beings are beautifully and wonderfully made in God’s own image. We are not inherently bad or evil by nature. We all reflect the glory of God in all sorts of ways, including our capacity to think, to act, and above all to love. But then, just when we are beginning to think more highly of ourselves, Wesley will pivot, going to the opposite end of the spectrum in order to correct our tendency to think that most people are basically good. For instance, in “Original Sin,” he says that, because of the devastating consequences of sin, we are no longer capable of apprehending the things of God. And that means we are no longer capable of loving God and neighbor.  

Elsewhere, Wesley confronts and challenges our tendency to believe that religion is a personal or private affair. In “Upon Our Lord’s Sermon on the Mount, Discourse IV,” he says, “Christianity is essentially a social religion … to turn it into a solitary one is to destroy it.” In other words, Wesley deeply opposes “me and Jesus” theology or “lone ranger” Christianity, insisting on the importance of active participation in the sacramental life of the church. For example, in “The Means of Grace” and “The Duty of Constant Communion,” he stresses that Christians who take their faith seriously will attend to all the means of grace and receive Holy Eucharist or Holy Communion as often as possible. At the same time, he is a stickler for private devotional practices, most notably prayer and fasting. In “The Wilderness State,” he goes so far as to list the neglect of private prayer among the sins of omission to be avoided at all costs.

Wesley also speaks to us rather sharply about things that we often consider very private matters, like money and health care. For instance, in “The Use of Money,” “The Danger of Riches,” and “The Good Steward,” he has very strong things to say to us about stewardship and caring for the poor. Our money and our resources are not our own. They belong to God. Similarly, in “On Visiting the Sick,” he insists that Christians have a duty to visit the sick and the infirmed. We should do so, he says, not merely for their benefit, but also for our own. Visiting the sick is good for us spiritually. But he doesn’t stop there. In sermons like “On Dress,” “On Friendship with the World,” “Self-denial,” and “The Reformation of Manners,” Wesley goes so far as to tell us who we should and shouldn’t be friends with, as well as what clothes and jewelry we should and shouldn’t wear. And on and on it goes.  

If all of that is beginning to sound too personal, then Wesley might not be for you. As far as he is concerned, if you are a member of the body of Christ, then you are accountable to your brothers and sisters who belong to that same body, including him. Your business is no longer your own. Suffice it to say, then, if you’re going to read Wesley, you need to be prepared for him to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.

Wesley isn’t difficult to read because his language is outdated or full of technical theological terms. Wesley is hard to read because he is spiritually demanding. He takes the Christian life very seriously, and he wants us to take it seriously, too. To that end, he isn’t afraid to confront us with all sorts of tough questions. And yes, he sets the bar high. At times, almost ridiculously so. But always remember, in sermons like “Free Grace,” and “Awake, Thou that Sleepest,” Wesley is trying to get the spiritually deaf among us to hear the good news of the Gospel. And in sermons like “Salvation by Faith,” and “The New Birth,” he’s trying to get the spiritually blind among us to see Christ high and lifted up, his body broken and his blood shed for the forgiveness of our sins. 

Above all, Wesley’s trying to wake us up to the astonishing reality that, with the help of the Holy Spirit, we do not have to live spiritually defeated lives. Far from it! As he contends in “The Scripture Way of Salvation,” “The Circumcision of the Heart,” and “Christian Perfection,” with the Spirit’s help, we really can flourish as creatures made in the image of God. We really can have the mind that was in Christ Jesus. And we really can exhibit all the fruits of the Spirit. In short, we really can be entirely sanctified in this life. 

Entirely sanctified? In this lifetime? Did Wesley really believe that? Don’t take my word for it. Read Wesley for yourself.  

Jason Vickers is Professor of Theology at Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky. Dr. Vickers is the author or editor of ten books, including A Wesleyan Theology of the Eucharist (2016) and Methodist Christology: From the Wesleys to the 21st Century (2020).   

For a discussion of the various major collections of John Wesley’s sermons, including the differences between the so-called “British Forty-four,” and the so-called “American Fifty-two,” see the Introduction in The Sermons of John Wesley: A Collection for the Christian Journey, edited by Kenneth J. Collins and Jason E. Vickers (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2013).

Photo: John Wesley Memorial – Gwennap Pit (Cornwall Guide)

Glide Leaves Methodism

by Steve | Jan 11, 2021 | Jan-Feb 2021, Magazine, Magazine Articles

Glide Memorial United Methodist Church in San Francisco. Photo by Chris Carlsson.

By Thomas Lambrecht –

Resolution is finally in sight after two contentious years of strife between Bishop Minerva Carcaño of the California-Nevada Annual Conference (CNAC) and the leadership of Glide Memorial United Methodist Church in San Francisco, a progressive church with a well-established reputation for being the largest United Methodist church in the Western Jurisdiction and among the largest in the United States. The conflict in this situation was theological, as well as financial and related to power and control.

In a joint November statement, the two parties announced they “reached an agreement that provides for each entity to pursue different aspects of Lizzie Glide’s Trust as wholly separate and autonomous organizations.”

Both parties agree that Lizzie Glide’s trust, established in 1929, was created to “advance Christian Protestant religion, education, and charity in San Francisco. To fulfill her wishes, she installed Glide as trustee of property located at 330 Ellis Street, which she wanted used to benefit all the people of San Francisco, and to support the creation of an evangelistic training center for preaching and teaching in conformity with the doctrines of the Methodist Church.” 

According to the statement, the physical property will be maintained by the Glide Foundation while the Glide Trust will be given to the California-Nevada Annual Conference to “carry out the mission of The United Methodist Church” and “advance Methodist teaching,” as well as leaving open the possibility that the annual conference will establish a new United Methodist congregation in San Francisco.

“Glide will transfer Trustee responsibility to CNAC for the Trust and will also transfer responsibility for a restricted fund that was established last century in large part to advance Methodist teachings. Combined, these accounts now contain $4.5 million in invested restricted funds that grew out of Lizzie Glide’s original contributions. The Trust will be renamed the ‘J.H. Glide United Methodist Trust’ and used to carry out the mission of The United Methodist Church – making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world, sending persons into the world to live lovingly and justly as servants of Christ healing the sick, feeding the hungry, caring for the stranger, and freeing the oppressed.” Glide will also provide $1.5 million to CNAC, drawing from a separate account for investment returns. 

Glide Memorial Church was launched into notoriety through the ministry of the Rev. Cecil Williams who served the church as lead pastor from 1964 until his “retirement” in 2000. In 1967 he removed the cross from the sanctuary in an attempt to make Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Wiccans, and atheists/agnostics feel comfortable. 

In a 2018 open letter to her annual conference, Carcaño stated, “Leaders from these [non-Christian] constituencies are quick to publicly state that they do not want the Celebrations, or the church, to be United Methodist or Christian in any form. Sunday Celebrations are uplifting concerts, but lack the fundamentals of Christian worship. Baptisms are conducted periodically but in the name of the people rather than from a Christian understanding of Baptism. Holy Communion was done away with some time ago and only introduced back into the life of the congregation this past Spring, but outside of the Celebration gatherings and with much resistance. We seek to be in good and loving relationship with persons of other faiths and beliefs, and those who claim no faith. However, this should never cause us to lose our own faith.”

According to Carcaño, “the great majority of the participants at Glide’s Sunday Celebrations claim other faiths.” Additionally, “there are also serious concerns about the governance and financial administration of the church,” Carcaño declared. “The church has no organizational structure to fulfill its responsibilities as per The Book of Discipline, and has not had a United Methodist organizational structure for decades. The only body that functions in any leadership capacity is a group of congregational leaders hand-picked by Cecil Williams who have never been elected or recognized by the congregation.”

The question became who was really running Glide? It became evident that the Glide Foundation was really the governing entity for the congregation. The Foundation receives millions of dollars a year for the social outreach ministry of the church, housing and feeding the homeless, providing ministry related to HIV/AIDS, and many other projects. In a 2018 guest editorial in the San Francisco Chronicle, Williams stated: “The Glide board of trustees controls the foundation’s resources, of which 95 percent support social programming, and 5 percent go toward church activities.”

Responding also in the Chronicle, Carcaño wrote, “In May, I attempted to appoint a senior pastor to Glide Memorial who was welcomed by the congregational leaders, but rejected by the Board of Trustees of the Glide Foundation.” 

Despite the fact that there have been four lead pastors appointed to the church since 2000, including now-Bishop Karen Oliveto, Williams has continued to maintain leadership of the church and the Foundation. Two years ago, Carcaño described it this way: “No pastor has been allowed to exercise their rightful authority or responsibilities while serving at Glide. To this day, Cecil Williams and his wife, Janice Mirikitani, make all decisions in the background at Glide.”

As the conflict deepened, the Foundation acted to strip any mention of The United Methodist Church from its articles of incorporation in 2018, according to the Chronicle. Glide also removed the resident bishop from the board and specified that only funds and assets related to church operations would be held in trust for the denomination. 

“As United Methodists, we respect all faiths, love all people, and are committed to working with persons of other faiths and goodwill to make the world a better place,” wrote Carcaño. “We also want to sustain our beliefs as Methodists.”

In their November joint statement, the parties appear to put the acrimonious past behind them. “Both CNAC and GLIDE are hopeful for a timely and successful approval by the Court followed by a new chapter in fulfilling Lizzie Glide’s wishes for future generations.”

Thomas Lambrecht is a United Methodist clergyperson and the vice president of Good News.