General Conference Reflections: A Better Way

After seven months of intense preparation, I first landed in Tampa filled with excitement and energy. As I registered at the convention center and walked through the halls on the first afternoon I realized that I was among the best of the best when it came to United Methodist leadership. I felt this communal sense of a deep desire for change from our status quo, a desire to truly holy conference, a desire to listen and learn instead of debate and legislate. I went to bed that first night eager, excited, and hopeful that by the time I boarded the plane back to Dallas in two weeks, The United Methodist Church would be changed for the better.

It was during the debate over our Rules of Organization on Tuesday night when I began to realize that I might be wrong. After hours of debate on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, we were already off to a delayed start. Committee work then began late Wednesday morning and it quickly became clear that most committees were fairing no better than the precedent set by the rules debate. Although my Discipleship committee finished early and completed all of our legislation, we really had little to nothing of great weight or importance to deal with. Once my committee finished, my inner methodork kicked in, pushing me to sit-in and observe other committees at work. It was during this time that I had the chance to observe Church and Society II and General Administration. Since many people have written extensively about the disastrous downfall of the General Administration committee to recommend any type of restructuring, I will not examine that here. Instead, I want to highlight a God-moment which filled me with hope for the future of our United Methodist Church.

On Thursday afternoon I sat in on the Church and Society II sub-committee which dealt with the issue of human sexuality. This sub-committee, chaired by my good friend Andrew Ponder-Williams, a 21-year old lay delegate from Missouri, experienced what I considered to be a true moment of holy conferencing. This sub-committee was compromised of around thirty lay and clergy members from across the United States, from across the World, with different races, different ages, and vastly different theological perspectives: 21-75, American-Russian-African, Black-White-Hispanic, Liberal-Moderate-Conservative, Gay-Straight. This truly was a table where all voices were present.

Andrew began this particular afternoon session by holding up a very large stack of papers, giving everyone in the room the chance to see the sixty-one petitions submitted which dealt which paragraph 161.F, where the practice of homosexuality is declared to be, “incompatible with Christian teaching.” However, instead of jumping right into a piece of legislation, with passionate speeches, debate, and parliamentary procedure galore, the sub-committee began simply with a time of moderated discussion. Members were each given two minutes and asked to share their hopes, fears, dreams, concerns, questions, and stories around the issue of human sexuality. People began to share stories of hurt and stories of hope, stories that made everyone laugh and stories that made everyone cry, theological assertions and human realities. By the end of an almost two hour period, walls had truly been broken down and those that entered the room with entrenched positions left the room with not only new eyes and ears, but new brothers and sisters whom they truly loved. Then, after a brief coffee break, the group came back together and set to work on a single petition which struck the language of “incompatible” completely from 161.F. It was truly a beautiful sight to witness.

Unfortunately, the piece did not fare as well the next day in full committee, with nothing being recommended to the General Plenary. However, the process that I had witnessed the day before gave me extreme hope and inspiration. I had my first of many epiphanies that afternoon: What if all of General Conference ran this way? What if, instead of being solely focused on passing or barring pieces of legislation, we began by solely focusing on each other as human beings? What if instead of debating, we began listening? What if instead of giving passionate speeches, we shared personal stories? What if we actually left room for the Holy Spirit to move among us? Would we be overjoyed if the Spirit changed the minds of others? Would we be angry if the Spirit changed our mind? Would we be open to hearing and experiencing the Living Word instead of just reciting the written word?

If there is one thing that this story teaches me it is that there is a better way to do General Conference. Maybe, just maybe, that Way looks a little more like a group of friends in conversations than 988 delegates performing parliamentary tricks…