WRAPPING UP

This is the last post for this blog. If you'd like to continue following the adventures and ponderings of Sallie Watson, come on over to www.thatwatsonwoman.com. Hope to see you there!

Hi friends --

Well, it's time to get ready for General Assembly.  And if you have been following my blogs related to GA and would like to continue to do so, I've got a new address for you.

Two years ago, I was Regional Presbyter for two presbyteries.  Now I'm Missional Presbytery for only one, the Presbytery of Santa Fe.  And I'm changing the blog accordingly.

My new site is this:  missionalponderings.blogspot.com.   Please come on over and join the conversation as we go through the next month or so together.

Important discussion during an important discussion

During this afternoon's debate on revising the definition of marriage, a commissioner asked for a ruling as to whether the Book of Confessions and the Book of Order could be at odds with each other.  The Moderator turned to the Stated Clerk, who turned to the moderator of the Advisory Committee on the Constitution. 

Paul Hooker, that moderator of the ACC, provided a very helpful distinction.  He pointed out that we turn to the Book of Confessions for our theology and the Book of Order for our polity and our rules. That is, of course, absolutely right.  And so Moderator Presa ruled that the portion cited from the Book of Order was not in conflict with the Book of Confessions.

So then someone made a motion to overrule the ruling of the moderator.  How helpful.

In any case, it brought about a theological discussion of substance on the floor, for which I give great thanks.  Those of us who are ordained as Teaching or Ruling Elders in the PCUSA vow to be "instructed and led" by the confessions of the church, but we do not hold them to the standard of scripture - and we hold them to a different standard of polity. 

During the discussion, a young woman pointed out that if we indeed kept our polity in total accord with the Book of Confessions, then she would not be able to be standing there taking part in the debate and voting. She is correct.  Neither would I be serving in the capacity that I have served for twenty-five years as of next month. And we would still be keeping people from being ordained who were guilty of usury, who had undergone a divorce, and much more. 

Short answer.  We are instructed and led by our confessions.  They tell us who we are.  The Book of Order tell us how we are. As much as I prefer the Book of Confessions to the Book of Order, I don't know how we could have one without the other. 

Equal Opportunity Motion Sickness

To call this a "testy" General Assembly feels a bit generous. I think there's more than testiness going on, though that's how it seems to exhibit itself.

It was not a terribly happy day yesterday and ait was a late night last night.  This day there are still 19 committees with business to report, and the prediction for the closing gavel tonight is midnight.

We have been in plenary for 90 minutes already, and the body has only made 3 or 4 decisions of substance.  The rest has been spent in parliamentary procedure - whether we will limit debate, whether we will limit the length of time allowed to ask a question, whether we will take items separately or together. 

One of my colleagues described this as seasickness - and we're all stuck on the boat together but the water outside is not a whole lot better. I think I'[d call it motion sickness.  Lots of parliamentary strategizing and motion-making has been going on, on every side.  This body has felt the need to vote on whether they can talk to each other, for heaven's sake. That says to me that the trust level among commissioners is very low.

Perhaps it is easier to argue about procedure than some of the difficult issues before us.  But even if we prefer that, the hard issues are not going to go away. 

The mood in the room today feels a bit nervous, somewhat foreboding. Testy? Maybe.  Motion sickness? Probably. I wish, for God's sake, that we could find a way to conduct ourselves as the church and rise above the rampant partisanship which is all too prevalent across the country. We've got a lot more to do than to make ourselves motion-sick.

What, in God's name, are we doing?

It's a complicated issue.

It falls in the same category of conflict as when the previous Book of Order said that persons "refusing to repent of what the confessions call sin" cannot stand for ordination in the PCUSA. But when you look at the laundry list of things that the Book of Confessions named as sinful, well, that pretty much included anyone who's breathing. (Usury, gluttony, women who baptize babies...but I digress)

This one, though, has another layer added to it.  Our polity makes it clear that the pastor is the one who decides for whom he or she will perform marriage ceremonies.  (I've declined to do one wedding in my career, but that's a whole 'nother blog post) The Book of Order clearly defines marriage as being between "a man and a woman." But now there are a handful of states which legally permit same-sex marriage. 

So what is a pastor to do when two of those three qualifications are met? It's a legal marriage and the pastor feels called to conduct it, but the Book of Order says no. Or, the Book of Order says yes and it's legal, but the pastor does not feel called to conduct it.

This is the situation in which the Rev. Tara Spuhler McCabe found herself earlier this year when she was asked to preside at the wedding for two women in a jurisdiction where that was legal. The women were not Presbyterian, but that's not the issue.  The jurisdiction was legal, but that's not the issue. She chose to break her ordination vows to uphold the Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (USA) when she chose to preside at this ceremony.

Many pastors have gone against their church's polity over the ages. That's not a first.  People who have taken ordination vows have broken those vows when they believed that they were being led by God to do so, out of pastoral duty or theological conviction.

It's a complicated issue.

There are many, many people in the Presbyterian Church (USA) who are convinced that she did the wrong thing.  She chose to do so after she had been nominated to stand for Vice-Moderator of the denomination, which felt deceptive to some. She broke her ordination vows, which was offensive to many - and especially so when the one breaking her vows was standing for a position of national leadership. And she did so by going against the polity that we Presbyterians work so laboriously to craft, hopefully and prayerfully in conjunction with the working of the Holy Spirit. Presbyterians can err in a heartbeat, and as Calvinists at their root they will be the first to tell you so. But there were many who felt betrayed by what Tara considered to be a pastoral choice.

The Rev. Neal Presa, the brand-new Moderator of the General Assembly, chose Tara as his running mate because they had stringently different theological views but were still beloved friends and colleagues - and that was their hope for the denomination: to model that people of good faith can indeed differ and still consider each other to be people of good faith who seeking the leading of Jesus Christ in their lives.  Many people based their support for Neal on his choice of running mate and what that represented:  hope that we can overcome the "blue state-red state" mentality which is so prevalent in our society.

But yesterday, Rev. McCabe chose to step down from her service as Vice-Moderator to the General Assembly because of all the controversy which has arisen regarding her candidacy and election. She served for approximately three days. According to her statement, the blogosphere and Tweetosphere had gone crazy with remarks, innuendo, and plain mean-spiritedness. There will likely yet be ecclesial charges filed against her for what she as a pastor chose to do.

My question is this:  how many dozens, if not hundreds, of people, have broken their ordination vows in the way they have conducted themselves about this matter?  Many of the ones who were blogging and Tweeting and stirring up foment have themselves taken vows to uphold the "peace, unity and purity of the church," and to be "a friend among their colleagues in ministry."

It's a complicated issue.  And one that has made me heartsick and angry for almost 24 hours.  I was not able to celebrate the Fourth with fireworks last night; my heart was just not in it.

I tend to be someone who believes that one sin is not greater than another; it's all sin. And I believe that breaking one ordination vow is as serious as breaking another.

The very worst thing for me about this whole situation, which I believe is the lowest point in my life as a Presbyterian, took place last night when the commissioners in plenary voted - not once, but twice - not to talk to one another. The Moderator offered one occasion for the floor to take 15 minutes in "talk back" time just to say whatever was on minds and hearts.  That suggestion was defeated.  And then when another motion was made - in the context of electing a new vice-moderator - to give the floor 20 minutes to discuss what had happened earlier that afternoon with the resignation, the motion failed by one vote: 323 to 322 with 17 abstentions.

It is bad enough to break ordination vows in order to conduct a pastoral act.  It is worse still to serve as judge and jury through the ease of the Internet.  But when we cannot even take the time to talk to each other about what has happened - which in itself is a pastoral act - where in God's name are we as a denomination?  What, in God's name, are we doing?

I go back to the plenary sessions today with a very heavy heart. 

And the New Moderator is...

Finally, last night, on the 4th ballot, well after 9pm, the Presbyterian Church (USA) elected its new moderator for the 220th General Assembly:  The Rev. Neal Presa from Elizabeth Presbytery in New Jersey. 

Neal is a young Filipino-American, a self-described "Presby-geek" who's done a lot around the church in his relatively young career, include moderate the committee currently seeking to revise the Heidelberg Catechism.

One of the most compelling things I think he's done, however, is to choose a Vice-Moderator who is at the other end of the theological spectrum from him, and who in fact undertook a controversial pastoral act just a couple of months ago.

Neal was perceived to have been a more evangelical conservative candidate for Moderator.  He asked The Rev. Tara Spuhler McCabe from National Capital Presbytery, a personal friend from the more progressive corner of the denomination, to be his running mate.  Neal wanted to communicate that Presbyterians of all stripes can indeed agree to disagree in certain areas of belief and still serve side by side. 

In late April, Rev. McCabe chose to conduct a marriage for two women in a state where same-sex marriage is legal. The women were not members of the PC(USA), but their own pastor had refused to conduct the service. She shared her decision with her running mate shortly before an article ran in the Presbyterian Layman.  After discernment and prayer, Neal chose to retain Tara as his running mate because of his respect for her, and also because of his commitment to the idea that we are stronger together than we are separately.  He admitted on his website that he could possibly lose the election because of his choice, but he stood ready to do so.

In the general balloting, and in most of the advisory categories, he was the front runner from the first vote.  But a simple majority is required, even in a field of four candidates, and so the balloting continued. 

With Neal Presa taking this stance, he clearly lost the support of many evangelical conservatives who moved their votes to Robert Austell from Charlotte, NC. His support stayed fairly steady throughout the balloting. Sue Krummel, EP from Great Rivers Presbytery (Peoria, IL) and a good friend of mine, was in my estimation even-handed, energetic, and beautifully prepared for the rigors of the race. She came in second, but Neal still had twice the votes she garnered - which surprised me. The fourth candidate, Randy Branson, will be remembered as being a proponent of golf and not much else, which is too bad.  Neal had the clear support of the commissioners from the start, and he will be a wonderful moderator.

The highlight of the evening for many was when he was accompanied back to the platform by his family and other supporters.  His two young sons helped to commission him, one by reading scripture and one with a prayer that just about brought the house down.

Our own Conrad Rocha was the one who communicated the vote to Stated Clerk Gradye Parsons and Moderator Cindy Bolbach.  It was fun to have a New Mexican so prominently involved in the evening!

This morning, commissioners are fanned out all across Pittsburgh to worship in local churches..  Plenary reconvenes at 2pm EDT to (re)elect the Stated Clerk along with a few other items of business. And then this evening, committees gather for the first time to begin their business.  Please  keep us all in your prayers.

Doing Church in the Inventive Age

My best friend and I had an apartment together right after we graduated from college. And that was when I really learned how to cook.  Pam was a great cook; me, not so much. So I took every opportunity to learn from the master.

One day, I asked her what I could do to help get dinner going.  She said, "Why don't you wash off the tomatoes and cut them up?"  And so I proceeded to do just that. So I got out the carton of salt and took it over to the sink, added a little water to the tomatoes, and started scrubbing.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm washing off the tomatoes, like you asked."

"You don't have to use salt to wash tomatoes."

"You don't?"

No, you don't.  But I didn't know that.  I was washing off tomatoes like my mother had shown me to do, like her mother had shown her to do.  My grandmother was kind of a germophobe, and all I can guess is that she was using salt as an abrasive to get all the cooties off the surface of the tomato. Now I know that plain old tap water will do the trick - but it still took me a while to drop the habit that I'd learned from my mother and grandmother.  They did it that way for the needs of a previous time, but in the late 20th century it was no longer necessary.

I thought about those tomatoes this morning when The Sharons and I heard Doug Pagitt at the Presbyterian Foundation breakfast. Doug is the pastor of one of those emergent churches called Solomon's Porch in Minneapolis, and he has a good friend you might have heard recently named Phyllis Tickle.  He makes a very good argument for the case that humanity has move from the Agrarian age through the Industrial Age to the Information Age, and now, to the Inventive Age.

The Inventive Age has a lot  of good news for the church of Jesus Christ.  The warp-speed version of what he said is this:  we have moved from "What can I grow" to "what can I make" to "what can I know" to, now, "what can I be" or "what can I contribute."  But one of the lessons for us as the church is that we are going to have to be more nimble than we have ever been in order to keep up.

He noted that, as we all know, necessity is the mother of invention - but it can also be that invention is the mother of necessity.  As times change, when we can't do a lot about those changes, we have to come up with new ways of addressing them. And that in a nutshell is what the Inventive Age is all about.

Doug has a lot of books available on Amazon, some of which I intend to get reading. For now, though, he's got me wondering: what is it in our church life that we are still scrubbing off with salt, which we don't need to do anymore? There might be a whole lot more things on that list than we might be comfortable admitting.  Doug says that churches need to spend a whole lot more time telling their histories, in order to understand why it is that we used to salt those tomatoes. If we find that it's still necessary to do so, that's okay. But at least we will have made an intentional choice to do so. And if we find that we can set that salt shaker aside, well, then we will have more time and energy to invite people to contribute those newer gifts they have to bring.

Scary?  Yeah, a little.  More than that, though, I think it's exciting.