This will probably be my final post until after I return home. Tomorrow is the final day of General Conference, and I am uncertain of what tomorrow’s schedule will bring. I am deeply grateful for all of you who have experienced this journey alongside me in one way or another.

This morning, Diane Miller led our Western Pennsylvania delegation in a time of prayer and sharing, inviting us into the life of Mary, the mother of Jesus, who pondered in her heart the profound mystery of what God was accomplishing in her life. As a delegation, we then had an opportunity to discuss some of our lingering hurt and sadness from yesterday and to join together once again in a spirit of prayer and unity. I am sincerely grateful for the opportunity to “do life” with these faithful women and men from Western Pennsylvania.

During our morning worship service, Bishop John Yambasu (of the Sierra Leone episcopal area) proclaimed a message that left me feeling powerfully convicted in my frequent failure to live in a spirit of authentic community:

We sit together but are afraid of each other, so that we become enemies in the pew. I am fed up! The church doesn’t just need open hearts. We need COMPASSIONATE hearts! We don’t just need open minds. We need ENGAGED minds! Our church doors don’t just need to be open. They need to be DISMOUNTED and DISMANTLED so that people who aren’t like us can find their way in.

I heard in his words a clarion call to the kind of radical hospitality that dares to recognize the countenance of Jesus in the faces of even the most marginalized and disenfranchised souls.

As part of morning worship, we commissioned twenty-nine missionaries for the important work of spreading the Gospel throughout the world. It was nothing short of inspiring to see this large group of women and men responding to the call of Jesus Christ in a risky, sacrificial, and life-altering way.

A highlight of our day was a brief but joyful celebration of the 60^th anniversary of the ordination of women in the United Methodist Church. It reminded me of how grateful I am to be part of a denomination that has lived into the Pentecostal reality that both sons AND DAUGHTERS are now gifted to prophesy. For sixty years, our part of the body of Christ has affirmed that ordination is dependent, not upon gender, but upon giftedness and call. It is heartbreaking that it took as long as it did. It is even more heartbreaking that some people in our churches continue to resist the idea of women clergy. Today’s celebration, however, was a loud “Amen!” to the amazing things that God continues to do through our church’s clergywomen.

It was an important but slow and laborious day of legislation, the spirit of which was much better than yesterday. We made our way through a good bit of legislation, but not nearly enough. Practically speaking, there are simply far too many petitions under the scrutiny of far too many people, all of whom desire to offer meaningful opinions that cannot be adequately accommodated by our limited time.

Petitions have come before General Conference in the past calling for a limitation on who can submit legislation (in an effort to produce a more manageable workload). But such efforts have been consistently rejected. Therefore, we are left with a noble but severely limited machinery called General Conference that cannot practice a thorough stewardship over its own agenda. I do not offer this perspective as a hopeless and bitter lament, but as a prayer for a more strategic and efficacious methodology. Having attended the last four General Conferences, I have become increasingly aware of how petition-management and its related fatigue often prevent us from giving our most attentive and energized minds to matters that demand nothing less than our collective discernment and prayer. I need to ponder this situation further so that I might move beyond complaining about the problem and become part of the solution, whatever that solution might be.

Since yesterday’s recommended “way forward” (offered by the Council of Bishops) was adopted by the General Conference, all petitions related to human sexuality have been deferred until a later date—meaning that the church’s current teaching on human sexuality is maintained for now as we move toward further conversation and discernment in the future. Even with these petitions removed from the conference’s agenda, we are still painfully overloaded. Much legislation, I fear, will have to go unaddressed.

Perhaps our most significant legislative decision today was to end the official relationship between the United Methodist Church and the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice (RCRC). The rationale for the severing of this relationship is the conviction among many that the RCRC is out of alignment with our church’s nuanced teaching related to both abortion and the sanctity of unborn life. I had hoped that some other alternative organization would be recommended as part of the legislation (to ensure our denomination’s continued affirmation of the ministries of counseling, advocacy, and health services to women in need). Unfortunately, no such recommendation was included in the legislation. I am hoping that the United Methodist Women will help us to find our way into a new and healthy institutional partnership in the days ahead.

A couple of personal highlights: I was really proud of my friend, Rev. Bob Zilhaver, for the work that he did today in making two important and detailed amendments to legislation related to pension matters. Bob’s mind for complex legislation and his refusal to settle for anything less than integrity have always been a great gift to the church. He did essential work on our behalf today, and I am grateful for his willingness to stand in that particular gap.

Finally, many of us had the opportunity to conclude the day with our friend and fellow Western Pennsylvania delegate, Rev. Sung Shik Chung, at the Korea Night Dinner. It was a special opportunity to learn more about the rich history of Korean United Methodism and to celebrate the vibrant and vital ministries of our Korean sisters and brothers. Sung’s ministry in Western Pennsylvania (and beyond) is a profound blessing for all of us. Sitting at his table this evening was an honor that I will never forget.

One of Western Pennsylvania’s lay delegates to General Conference, Rich Hoffman, led our delegation early this morning in a time of prayer and reflection. Rich asked us to ponder a moment in 1 Kings 19 in which Elijah discovered that God was not in the great wind. Nor was God in the earthquake and fire. Rather, as Elijah learned, God was present in the “sheer silence” that followed the spectacle and drama. We began the day by being still together in that sheer silence, so that we might listen for the life-giving whispers of God that so often resonate in the chambers of our souls when we pause to listen deeply.

During our opening worship time, Bishop Cynthia Fierro Harvey (from the Louisiana Episcopal Area) preached a powerful word on Jesus’ parable of the wedding banquet (found in Matthew 22). In that parable, the King extends a wedding banquet invitation to just about everyone (after those who were originally invited fail to respond). Bishop Harvey suggested that that’s how God’s banquet really is. It is an open table to which everyone is invited. “God’s banquet becomes a world where loved ones are set free,” she proclaimed, “where addiction gives way to recovery, where acts of violence give way to the pursuit of peace, where women no longer feel the need to sell their bodies, and where all find their place at the banquet table…That’s the banquet that Jesus makes possible—a banquet that turns the world upside down!” Bishop Harvey concluded the sermon with an image that remains in my thoughts: “So put on your grace-lined banquet robe, because the Host is expecting you!”

So, what does wearing a “grace-lined robe” mean? Probably many things. For me, at the very least, it means living with an expanding awareness of the fact that every breath I breathe is an unmerited gift, and that my salvation is grounded in Christ’s atonement rather than my accomplishment. I have been thinking about that truth all day long.

To be honest, today’s legislative work was exhausting in its tedium. What we accomplished was important: We elected the new members of the Judicial Council (which has been described as United Methodism’s “supreme court”), the University Senate, and the Commission on General Conference. We approved portions of what is known as “the consent calendar.” (The “consent calendar” is a collection of petitions or resolutions that received an overwhelming support for the prevailing vote during last week’s legislative committee meetings. By approving the consent calendar, we act on many petitions and resolutions in a single vote, thereby expediting the legislative process by preventing us from having to deal with every petition and resolution individually.) We had important conversation about the possibility of translating our Book of Discipline and our Book of Resolutions into the languages spoken in our Central Conferences. So, our work today was important in its scope. But technological challenges, methodological confusion, and the slow process of various elections made it a slow and draining day.

One of the highlights of the day for me was the celebration of Zimbabwe’s Africa University, a United Methodist-supported institution, the work of which continues to provide life-changing education for thousands of African men and women. The Africa University Choir blessed us this afternoon with its wonderful ministry of music. The choir members’ music and the spirit with which they offered it was, for me, the most joyful and enlivening part of a long and challenging day.

Something difficult but significant happened today. In the mid-afternoon, a group of nearly 100 United Methodists facilitated an unscheduled demonstration. They paraded through the plenary room, chanting “Black lives matter!” and carrying a banner that read, “All Black Lives Matter: bisexual, transgender, poor, heterosexual, lesbian, gay, disabled, women, men, youth and children.” As reporter Jessica Brodie described it,

 The marchers included members of various groups, including Black Methodists for Church Renewal, the Love Your Neighbor Coalition, the  Reconciling Ministries Network and Love Prevails…They marched twice   around the floor, chanting, ‘No more hate’ and ‘Hey, hey, ho, ho, homophobia’s  got to go.’ They ended at the center table for proclamation and song before marching out.

It was a moment that once again made clear the deep divide in our denomination over human sexuality in general and United Methodism’s stance on homosexuality in particular—a divide that will no doubt find further expression in upcoming legislative conversations.

Please, as you read my description of what transpired during today’s demonstration, I implore you not to allow yourself to become cynical, belligerent, or combative. Today’s demonstration, after all, came from the hearts of people who love Jesus dynamically and who believe wholeheartedly that the church’s current teaching on homosexuality is as harmful as it is misguided. Even if one disagrees strongly with their conclusions, one can at least be respectful of their deeply held convictions. I would greatly appreciate the avoidance of vitriolic debate in this medium (since I am already finding quite enough of that here in Portland). I describe today’s demonstration in detail only because I want you to understand with greater clarity the scope of what lies before us as a church.

During this afternoon’s demonstration, members of the Western Pennsylvania delegation, along with some guests, formed a circle, joined hands, and prayed silently. It was all we could think to do. The emotional intensity of the demonstration, I think, was starkly but meaningfully unsettling to all of us. For what did I pray in the silence? I prayed for a church that never loses its passion for both holiness and justice. I prayed for peace in our world, our nation, our church, and the plenary floor of General Conference. Most of all, I prayed that Jesus would continue to help United Methodism to find its way through our divisions in a manner that treats human lives with radical compassion; that honors Scripture with a spirit of attentive obedience; and that reflects a supernatural love that infuses even our most difficult relationships and conversations.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for praying. Thanks for being there.

My friend and colleague, John Seth, led our delegation early this morning in a time of prayer and reflection. John encouraged us to follow the prophet Jeremiah’s instruction to find “where the good way lies” and to “walk in it.”

At General Conference, my sense is that God’s “good way” often gets distorted by things like pace, tone, presuppositions, weariness, and woundedness. For me, then, God’s “good way” is the way of a carefully-managed tempo, a patient rhythm of prayer, and an ever-deepening attentiveness to the present moment, so that the people I encounter don’t slip through the cracks of my personal agenda and so that my own heart does not get lost in the frenzy of all that I want to accomplish.

Bishop Sudarshana Devadhar preached at the morning worship service today, focusing, interestingly, on the Wise Men’s visit to Jesus. “Like the Wise Men of old,” Bishop Devadhar said at one point, “will we experience the epiphany of God’s glory in Christ and travel home by a different road? Will we open ourselves to the direction of God so that we might hear the Great Commission—‘Go, therefore…’—as a mandate to travel by an alternative pathway, declaring the Epiphany of Jesus Christ to the world?”

An important part of our morning was the Young People’s Address, offered by Chelsea and Peter. Chelsea is a young adult from Delaware (now living in Michigan), who became Christian because of the radical hospitality of her United Methodist Church, where “everyone was welcomed and loved as image-bearers of God.” Peter is a young adult from the Republic of the Congo, who was raised Muslim, came reluctantly to a United Methodist Church for worship and, after a season, became a Christ-follower because of the pastor’s consistent preaching about “the transforming power of God’s forgiveness and grace.”

As I experienced the Young People’s Address this morning, it became abundantly clear to me how desperately the church needs its young adults, whose leadership is urgent, whose presence and absence are all-too-often ignored, whose voices are waiting to be heard and valued, and whose love for Jesus is something dynamically grand. Peter, one of today’s presenters, described the life of Jesus in a compelling manner: “Jesus, the Savior of the world. Jesus, the Servant Leader. Jesus…the young adult.”

I spent the rest of today (until 9:30 this evening) in my Discipleship legislative committee, sitting at a table with the three young people pictured above. We were able to finish our work. We vetted and perfected legislation that will come before the entire General Conference next week for final action. The legislation entrusted to our committee addresses several important matters: the creation of a new United Methodist Hymnal, available in multiple formats; reducing the risk of child abuse in the church; expanding young adult ministry in the United Methodist connection; addressing teen suicide; clarifying both the strategy and the language for the training and equipping of the laity; and fortifying the ministry of both the “Native American Comprehensive Plan” and the “Strengthening the Black Church for the 21^st Century” initiative.

There were several moments throughout today’s work with the legislative committee when I experienced the joyful sense that I was participating in something meaningful and redemptive—something that would lead to the betterment of God’s church.

It felt good.

At our delegation’s time of prayer and conversation early this morning, Paul Morelli read to us some weighty words from pastor and author A.W. Tozer. Tozer’s words ushered us into a contemplation of the perpetual nearness of the sin of idolatry. According to Tozer, idolatry is not limited to the glorification of a literal, physical idol. Rather, idolatry is the willingness to abandon our “lofty opinion of God” in order to settle for an image of God that somehow truncates the greatness, the holiness, and the beauty of God’s character. As Tozer puts it, “the first step down for any church is taken when it surrenders its high opinion of God.”

I wonder, where do I sell God short in the way I conceptualize God? In the way that I pray? In the way that I make God less than God in my deepest thoughts? Where have I slipped into a functional idolatry in the way I quietly reduce God to little more than a divine best buddy who winks at sin? Or a coldhearted observer who merely watching my suffering and pain from a distance? Such questions bring me to the heart of an idolatry that I commit all to frequently. This morning’s devotions helped me to name and confess it.

At our morning worship service in the plenary room, Bishop Christian Alsted, of the Nordic and Baltic Episcopal Area, preached a powerful sermon that centered on Jesus’ encounter with a Roman centurion in Matthew 8—a soldier who is crying out to Jesus for a healing on behalf of his servant. Bishop Alsted suggested that this soldier’s counter-cultural willingness to reach out to Jesus is a Biblical reminder to us that the starting point of our deepest transformation, “is a willingness to subordinate ourselves to the revolutionary authority and healing power of Jesus Christ and to depend upon him for the healing of our church.” The Bishop’s words brought the Gospel afresh to my heart. It was an enlivening way to begin the day.

The remainder of the morning was devoted to a lengthy conversation and debate around proposed Rule 44, which I referenced in my last post. Just to remind you of the particulars, Rule 44, if approved, would have allowed delegates to experience extended time in smaller groups (no larger than 15 people) in which the more controversial legislation (such as legislation on human sexuality) might be discussed without the pressure of an immediate vote, thereby creating a safer and (hopefully) more hospitable context in which delegates might listen to one another’s hearts before having to legislate. It was a long and, at times, frustrating discussion about Rule 44 in today’s plenary—frustrating because of procedural quagmires and technological uncertainties related to who was permitted to speak and for what purpose. When it finally came to a vote, the Rule 44 proposal was rejected, 477-355.

Clearly, the General Conference was not ready to say a collective yes to this new process of discernment. While I respect the plenary’s decision, I am also saddened by it. The rejection of Rule 44 leaves me wondering where and when our denomination will create contexts for safe and desperately-needed conversations about hard and complex issues. At present, we seem to be far more eager to legislate our position than we are to listen to one another—far more passionate about casting a vote than we are about engaging the hearts of those who see things differently than we do. I love the United Methodist Church and it’s emphasis upon personal and social holiness, its devotion to personal piety and public acts of mercy, and its Christocentric vocabulary of grace. But there are issues before us that demand deeper conversations than a legislative plenary can accommodate. I was hoping that Rule 44 might have at least opened the door to such conversations, thereby enabling us to love one another more attentively, irrespective of the final legislative decision.

This afternoon and early evening were devoted to the work of the twelve legislative committees. All afternoon long, the 80-plus members of my legislative committee (Discipleship) were tremendously patient and gracious in dealing with one another as we settled into a shared process and a common approach.  It felt like the way church ought to be—a roomful of Jesus-followers who were willing to allow themselves to be slowed down for the sake of making certain that everyone present understood what was being said and what was being done.  It felt like a gathering of imperfect saints who were willing to subordinate expediency to relational attentiveness.  I was honored to be a part of it.