The Un-Tying of The United Methodist Church, Part 3

Photo by vijay s on Unsplash

Photo by vijay s on Unsplash

This is Part 3 of a three-part series by the Rev. Dr. Ted A. Campbell on the events that have led to the pending division of The United Methodist Church. You can access Part 1 here and Part 2 here

Advocacy, Caucuses, and Church Politics 

Methodists have been known to practice a bit of politics from time to time. I speak from some experience. As a high-school youth delegate to the Texas Annual Conference, I met with other youth delegates in Sunday School rooms to discuss our priorities, and we decided to concentrate our political efforts on speaking and voting against all proposed improvements to our United Methodist summer camp in Palestine, Texas. Why? Because every time the grownups improved some part of the camp, they made it off-limits to youth. Power to the people, man! More seriously, Russell E. Richey’s study of The Methodist Conference in America suggests that in fact it was the divisive issues about Methodists practicing human enslavement that led to the transformation of Methodist quarterly meetings and conferences into politically divisive forums focused more on business agendas than on worship and evangelization (Richey, Methodist Conference in America, 51–61). 

Sometimes the political issues are more about funding for the Methodist institutions one represents or the pet projects one favors. But there are also organized caucus groups that began in American Methodism early in the twentieth century with the formation of the Methodist Federation for Social Service (now “Social Action,” MFSA). The MFSA has stood consistently for more progressive social causes within the denominations that succeeded the Methodist Episcopal Church. 

Identification with caucus groups accelerated strongly from the late 1960s, around the time of the union of The United Methodist Church. African American church leaders strongly supported the dissolution of segregated church structures but also feared the consequences of that dissolution. Would a white-majority church ever elect Black bishops? In response to these concerns, African American Methodist leaders organized Black Methodists for Church Renewal (BMCR) in 1964. 

At about the same time, conservative and mostly white Methodists fearing an infiltration of liberalism in their churches were also organizing. In advance of the 1968 union, conservative Methodists founded the Good News magazine and the Good News movement associated with it. 

New caucus groups arose in the following decades. Hispanic United Methodists organized Metodistas Asociados Representando la Causa Hispano-Americana (MARCHA), and Native Americans organized the Native American International Caucus of United Methodists. A United Methodist Democrat who questioned denominational spending to radical movements spurred the formation of the interdenominational Institute on Religion and Democracy that has criticized funding from old-line denominations to non-democratic groups. In 1984, United Methodists advocating inclusion of gay and lesbian people organized Reconciling Congregations, now Reconciling Ministries Network. Conservatives responded in the 1990s by organizing the Confessing Movement, a parallel to Good News but with stronger engagement of larger urban United Methodist congregations and with an explicit affirmation of traditionalist views of same-sex relationships. 

Those who began new caucus groups saw themselves as faithful United Methodists committed to the good of the whole denomination. But caucus structures and activities allowed group members to focus on very particular agendas, often headed in opposite directions from members of other caucus groups, making it increasingly difficult to work together as a denomination. The early 2000s saw the caucuses lining up over the issues of homosexual practice, and a proliferation of new caucus groups emerged with radically divergent views of what it means to be Christian and to be United Methodist. 

United Methodists and Sexuality in the 1970s and Beyond

The issues that have most severely taxed The United Methodist Church are not generic sexuality issues or issues about the larger spectrum of LGBTQIA+ people, at least not to date. The denomination has not legislated anything about transgender or asexual or intersex people, and its present legislation relates to those who identify themselves as bisexual or queer only so far as their behaviors can be identified as “homosexual.” The specific issues we have been facing are explicitly about a) “the practice of homosexuality” (2016 Discipline, ¶ 161G, p. 113), b) forbidding the ordination or appointment to ministries of “self-avowed and practicing homosexual persons” (2016 Discipline, ¶ 304.3, p. 226, and ¶ 2702.1, p. 788) and c) forbidding clergy blessings and uses of church property for same-sex marriages or unions (2016 Discipline, ¶ 341.6, p. 278, and ¶ 2702.1, p. 788). 

Like other historic Protestant church traditions, Methodists had few explicit resources dealing with these issues and with the biblical grounds cited in favor of traditional views about homosexual relationships. When Methodist churches in the early 1800s faced the divisive issue of human enslavement and the issue of whether those who practiced the slave trade could be members of Methodist societies, they had longstanding and explicit resources uniformly expressing opposition to human enslavement—beginning with John Wesley himself. Methodists compromised on these matters early on, but they had the precedents in place. Methodists facing issues of women’s inclusion in ministry could point to John Wesley’s explicit inclusion of women as exhorters and preachers, a move so progressive that British Methodists discontinued it after John Wesley’s death, and American Methodists seem never to have implemented it until well into the nineteenth century. 

There were no such explicit precedents about gay people and their sexual activities in Methodist doctrine, legislation, or earlier writings. Neither the Articles of Religion, the Confession of Faith, the General Rules, the contents of Methodist rituals or hymnals, nor Methodist disciplinary or social statements prior to 1972 had explicitly mentioned homosexual relations. Nor for that matter did the historic Protestant confessions or the historic creeds from the ancient church have explicit reference to homosexual practice. Folk cultures may have presupposed that homosexual relations amounted to “bestiality,” and gay clergy could be removed from ministry on the basis of criminal charges in civil courts when homosexual relations were defined as criminal behavior. For example, prior to the 1972 explicit statement of the “incompatibility clause,” Rev. Gene Leggett was removed from ministry (technically “located” as an elder) in the Southwest Texas Annual Conference on the grounds of general (but unspecified) “unacceptability” for ministry (Sledge, “The Saddest Day,” 156-164). 

This lack of explicit reference in doctrinal, moral, and liturgical materials set up a further set of issues as to what should be inferred from historic doctrinal, liturgical, canonical, and ethical standards. Could we infer from statements about biblical authority in the Articles of Religion and the Confession of Faith that the church is bound to St Paul’s apparent condemnations of homosexual activities (Romans 1:26-27, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10, 1 Timothy 1:9-10)? Could we infer that without also inferring that the churches were equally bound to St Paul’s command that women should be silent in churches (1 Corinthians 14:33b-35)? Did historic liturgies for marriage explicitly mentioning only the marriage of heterosexual couples (“this man and this woman”) infer that the church and its clergy are forbidden from blessing same-sex unions or marriages? Powerful folk cultures expressing revulsion to same-sex relationships made these inferences seem intuitively obvious to many Methodist folk. But The United Methodist Church was not bound to folk cultures nor to accepting inferences, however intuitive they may have seemed, from doctrinal and moral and liturgical standards that did not explicitly name issues about same-sex relationships. 

One irony is that the statement of “Our Theological Task” (1972) was intended to help guide the church in making decisions about just these kinds of issues that had not been explicitly defined in the past. It began by listing hopes and fears that modern life engendered, and it offered the quadrilateral of authorities as a way to think through such issues. But although the statement may have helped individuals think through such issues, its critical ambiguities (noted in Part 1 of this series) made it very difficult as an aid to finding consensus in the church on these emerging issues. 

As the 1970s transitioned into the 1980s, the moral context in the United States shifted significantly by the rising prominence of conservative evangelicals who had chosen to make the issues of abortion and homosexuality central in their renewed engagement in political life. This set up a growing cultural polarization in which conservatives could see more progressive Christians as acquiescing in secular ideas of morality. More progressive United Methodists, on the other hand, could see their conservative counterparts as acquiescing to a traditionalist ethos that had not been visible in Protestant life in preceding decades. That growing polarization would make the discussion of homosexuality a very sharp set of issues indeed. 

The United Methodist Church had made its first explicit statement about homosexual practice at the same conference in 1972 when it adopted “Our Theological Task.” 

A proposed new statement of social principles had sentences asserting that “homosexuals no less than heterosexuals are persons of sacred worth” who need and should have access to the ministries of the church. A delegate proposed an addition: “…though we do not condone the practice of homosexuality and consider this practice incompatible with Christian teaching” (Sledge, “The Saddest Day”, 164-172). That statement has remained in UMC Disciplines since 1972. In the 1980s conservatives added legislation stating that “self-avowed and practicing homosexual persons” could not be eligible for ordination or ministry appointments, and in the 1990s ruled out clergy blessings of same-sex unions or marriages. Each of these restrictions has remained in place. 

At the very same time as collaborative structures were waning and funds were being diverted from general church work to local congregations (see Part 2 of this series), United Methodist general conferences every four years came to be dominated by issues relating to homosexual practice. Delegates from the US and western Europe seem to have become more open to ministries of homosexual men and women and marriages of same-sex partners. But at the same time, the UMC expanded by incorporating Methodist church groups from other countries such as Cote d’Ivoire, where prohibitions against same-sex relationships prevailed. Their delegates have tended to support the traditionalist position opposed to gay sexual practice. 

Unlike other old-line Protestant church families, conservatives in the UMC have won every vote in the UMC on issues about gay and lesbian people and their sexual relationships, despite furious politicking on all sides. United Methodist progressives may have anticipated that the denomination would eventually follow progressive Episcopalian, Lutheran, and Presbyterian groups in authorizing ordination of gay people and same-sex marriages. But although the voting margins have grown closer, that hasn’t happened. In this respect, the UMC throughout the world tracks closer to Baptists than to other old-line US denominations. 

The question was raised over and over: Can’t we just find a way to get along? To live with our differences? That may have been possible for previous generations of Methodists.  But after decades of the trend towards local autonomy, the answer seems to be consistently negative. We are an untied church. Not just untied in its views of sexuality: untied in its theological, ethical, polity, and liturgical commitments. Far more untied than it had been in 1972. 

What Remains 

Throughout their histories, Methodist denominations have loved to celebrate anniversaries of cardinal historic moments. There are three memorial stones on the campus of Southern Methodist University conspicuously dated May 24, 1938, the bicentennial anniversary of John Wesley’s Aldersgate-Street “heart strangely warmed” experience, a big deal for Methodists. It was a big deal when American Methodists in 1984 celebrated 200 years since the first American Methodist denomination was organized, and when in 1991 they celebrated 200 years since John Wesley’s death, and then in 2003 and 2007 when they celebrated the 300th birthdays of John and Charles Wesley and began anew the cycle of Methodist centennials. 

But on April 23, 2018, when the United Methodist Church reached the 50th anniversary of its founding in 1968, very little celebration was in evidence. Even in Dallas where the union took place, we were unable to scare up more than a skeleton crowd for a commemoration. The largest gathering was at United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio, focused appropriately on the fading memory of the Evangelical United Brethren Church. 

What remains? Not very much of the international and national agencies and causes that were at one time the pride of a generation of collaborative Methodists. High-level problems deserve high-level attention and collaboration, and it’s not always a good thing to do away with high-level cooperation. But it’s certainly not the spirit of the times. 

What remains? More than six million people in the United States and more than five million or so throughout the world who still belong to United Methodist congregations. Some will be happy to join separating groups; many will be heartbroken to leave fellow congregants and colleagues in ministry after congregations and annual conferences complete crucial, divisive votes as to the denominational groups with which they align themselves. 

What remains? A distinctive way of being Christian combining heart-felt piety, a way of combining congregational song with liturgical as well as extemporaneous patterns of worship, bound up together with collaborative efforts to make the world a better place in anticipation of the reign of Christ. 

What remains? The presence of our saints and martyrs in the great communion of saints. We can name only some of them: 

  • Sts Susanna and John and Charles of Epworth 

  • Sts Mary and John William of Madeley 

  • St Francis of the Long Road 

  • St Philipp Wilhelm of Baltimore 

  • Sts Jakob and Martin of Pennsylvania 

  • Sts Harry, John, and Henry, the Sons of Thunder 

  • Sts Richard and Absalom of Philadelphia 

  • St Phoebe the Holiness Preacher of New York 

  • St Frederick Augustus of the District of Columbia 

  • Sts Frances and Georgia of Evanston 

  • Sts Anna and Julius of Russia 

  • St Eli Stanley of India 

  • Sts Wesley Branch and Jack Roosevelt of the Dodgers 

  • St Rosa the Angel from Montgomery 

And so many more. With them are our Methodist and United Brethren and Evangelical Association forebears in the faith, most of them known only to God, in the great cloud of witnesses who surround us. 

In the Between Time 

Will it come down to political hacks circling like vultures to snatch up bits and pieces of The United Methodist Church while the saints and martyrs weep in heaven? Sorry, I’m a historian. I can’t help with the future. 

What do we do in the between time? I find myself all out of ideas for committees and vision statements and ways forward. I’ll suggest four things that don’t depend on legislation. 

First is repentance and amendment of life. Is it too depressing to admit we need help? I find it a great comfort to pray: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” But I suggested repentance and begging for God’s mercy in a draft statement for one group thinking about a “way forward,” and they removed it. Maybe repentance would sound too much like a concession to those on the other side? An admission of weakness? Bring it on. We are weak. God is strong. We need mercy, so may God have mercy on us and forgive us. And I do pray for a little share of mercy for each other. 

We need deep, heartfelt devotion to Jesus Christ. I don’t have to look much farther than traditional liturgies and the hymns of Charles Wesley to find the wellsprings of devotion. However you find it, cultivate devotion to Christ. 

We need vision. I find as a historian that vision often comes to those who go away from the place where they have been and can see it from a new perspective: the Augustinian friar Martin Luther traveling to Rome and returning with a clearer sense of his calling for reform, John Wesley returning from America with a new vision of England, Dr. King moving to Boston where he came to see the American South and indeed all of the US and its racial horrors with crystal vision. Some of us might even gain vision by going away from Methodist communities. At least for a while. 

We need to continue faithful observance. Most Christians did not live to see great revivals of faith. Most of them just kept on repenting and believing and observing the ordinances of God. In the between time, we can do likewise. We need to keep on saying our prayers, keep on reading the scriptures, keep on holding out our hands to receive the body and blood of Christ, to keep on feeding the poor and clothing the naked and rescuing the perishing, to keep on avoiding evil and doing good as long as ever we can. 

Christ, have mercy on us. 

Ted A. Campbell is the Albert C. Outler Professor of Wesley Studies at Perkins School of Theology, Southern Methodist University

Works Cited:

Richey, Russell E. 
The American Conference in America: A History. Nashville: Kingswood Books, 1996.

Sledge, Robert W. 
“The Saddest Day: Gene Leggett and the Origins of the Incompatibility Clause,” in Methodist History LV:3 (April 2017). 

United Methodist Church (UMC) 
The Book of Discipline of The United Methodist Church 2016. Nashville: United Methodist Publishing House, 2016.