The Church’s One Foundation

Rev. Samuel J. Stone

Anglican priest, the Rev. Samuel J. Stone penned the words to the beloved hymn: “The Church’s One Foundation” in 1866. (Book of Hymns #545)  According to Warren Shiver, author of Stories behind the Hymns, it was written as a call to unity in the church during a time of controversy. 

South African Bishop John William Colenso (first Church of England Bishop of Natal, mathematician, theologian, Biblical scholar and social activist) had contended that the Bible was a myth.  He was deposed for heresy, then later reinstated. But all the while there was deep division in the South African Church about these issues. 

Rev. Stone writes: “Though with a scornful wonder we see her (the church) sore oppressed, by schisms rent asunder, by heresies distressed.” 

This humble parish priest was passionate about the church remaining unified as a body here on earth even in the midst of controversy.  In his hymn he connected the church of the living with the church triumphant.  

The saints in heaven are depicted as those who are encouraging the church by keeping watch and praying as the divisions raged on below.  This imagery can be helpful for us today as we struggle with disagreements over Disciplinary paragraphs.  

Repentance as Decolonization

During this quadrennium United Methodists are studying the acts of inhumanity that people have committed against indigenous peoples around the earth. Each annual conference is slated to have an “Act of Repentance” during a regular annual session.

Our Philadelphia Episcopal Area will join in this observance during both of its 2016 annual conferences (Eastern PA and Peninsula-Delaware). This gives us time to learn and reflect upon what has happened in the past, to repent and ultimately move toward reconciliation. 

At a recent conference at the United Nations Church Center in May 2014  the plight of indigenous peoples and the concept of “repentance as decolonization” was discussed. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uR7i5iWXBvA) As Native American people in the United States were “colonized” onto reservations and robbed of their land and ways of life, the act of decolonization would be the true fruit of repentance. 

A Time to Love

"Time is
Too slow for those who Wait,
Too swift for those who Fear,
Too long for those who Grieve,
Too short for those who Rejoice.
But for those who Love,
Time is eternal."

Those verses penned in 1904 by poet, professor and statesman Henry van Dyke, a native of Germantown, Pa., are timely for us who remember "9/11," our national day of tragedy 13 years ago when brutal terrorists took over our skies, plunging hijacked airliners into the World Trade Center in New York City and the Pentagon in Washington, DC. A small legion of American heroes prevented the hijackers of a third airliner, United Flight 93, from reaching their dreaded goal, mostly likely the U.S. Capitol, and instead forced them to crash into an empty field near Shanksville, Pa., killing all onboard.

Today on 9/11/14 there are memorials again being held at each crash site, remembering and mourning the thousands of fallen victims and our many heroes who responded at great risk to these attacks, including those who sacrificed their lives in Shanksville.

We wait desperately for an end to our war on terror, an end that may never come. We fear the rise of a new force of Islamic extremists, ISIS, now wreaking havoc, brutally murdering thousands, inflicting destruction across Iraq and Syria, and threatening to infiltrate Europe and America in their horrific campaign. The only question about this "existential threat," as some describe it, is not if but when.

Thankful for the Ministry of Bishop Martin McLee

My e-mail box and telephone have been filled with messages about the recent passing of Bishop Martin McLee, bishop of the New York Annual Conference.  He entered the church triumphant on Saturday, September 6, while on a leave of absence. 

We as a denomination and as individuals are filled with grief and disbelief as we process the news.  We reflect on the brevity of life but also the amazing impact one life can have and the awesome work that this bishop was able to accomplish in two short years. 

Bishop McLee was an advocate for justice in his conference and around the United Methodist Connection.  He brought new vision and leadership to the Northeastern Jurisdiction Multi-Ethnic Center for Ministry.  He handled a complaint around the issue of same-gender weddings with faithfulness and grace.  He preached with power in speech and song, often bursting into the chorus of a well-known hymn to accentuate his message.

Bishop McLee was a communicator.  Early on I figured out that he was great with text messages.  He always answered.  I would text “I am praying for you,” and he would respond, “It is getting better” or “God is with me.”  He was always filled with hope and positive energy that encouraged us all. 

Even during his illness and rehabilitation he looked upward and trusted in a God who provided for every need.  He would frequently address the body as “beloved” knowing that everyone is a precious child of God, no matter who they are; and in God’s love he embraced all.

I texted Bishop Martin on Saturday morning.  I thought it was strange that he did not answer me.  He always answered.  Seems that he answered the call from God to rise up to new life and a higher call in the kingdom of light. 

There is no telling what he is doing now, gifted with renewed strength and eternal life in heaven. We will join him someday. But on this day we pray for all who mourn across our Connection and especially for the New York Annual Conference, even as we celebrate the living legacy of his leadership in ministry there. 

How Beautiful!

Christian vocalist Twila Paris recorded a song entitled “How Beautiful” a number of years ago.  In it she describes the body of Christ, not only Christ himself but his body, the church.  One line from the song came to mind during my recent visit to the Congo: “How beautiful when humble hearts give the fruit of pure lives so that others may live.” 

Bishop Johnson with Rev. Kumbe,
a D.S. in East Congo for six years

I saw this happening every day in the Congo during my 10-day tour.  Many are sacrificially preaching the gospel there with little or no salary.  One of the District Superintendents who just completed six years on the cabinet received $10 per month as her total compensation.  She has had no modern vehicle for transportation.  But even with the hardship of walking or riding a bike to visit her churches she also established five new congregations on her district during her tenure.

Our team had dinner with a Congolese pilot, Gaston Ntabamo, from the “Wings of the Morning” aviation ministry one evening.  He is one of our United Methodist missionaries who serves in the Congo.

Gaston Ntabamo, pilot

He makes numerous flights from the remote villages to the only full-service hospital in the area at no charge to the patients thanks to our United Methodist Mission giving.  He has saved hundreds of lives during his years of ministry.  In addition he serves as the pilot for many of the United Methodist bishops as they travel to areas where there are no passable roads. During the war in the Congo 10 years ago this pilot risked his life to evacuate stranded missionaries. 

Standing our ground: 'We are all accountable'

On August 9 18-year-old Michael Brown, an unarmed African American youth in Ferguson, Mo., was fatally shot multiple times by police officer Darren Wilson. Bishop Minerva Carcaño, president of our General Commission on Race and Religion, responded in a public statement that, “We are all accountable for his death and accountable to the African American young people in our communities everywhere.”

That is so true. Michael was our child. So were Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis, two other teenagers killed by gun shots in 2012, their assailants acquitted of their deaths by Florida’s notorious Stand Your Ground law.  

Nine-year-old Antonio Davis of Chicago was slain just last Wednesday, August 21, by gun shots that tore through his young, innocent body as he likely sought to escape gang violence. He too was our child. And so were too many others taken from us in recent years in Chicago, Philadelphia, Baltimore and other cities and towns across our nation.

The quaking ground on which we must stand is our accountability to children and yes, adults, of African American and other races, who are victims of violence-random and senseless or premeditated and prejudicial, by law-breakers and law-keepers. We must assert clearly, loudly that every life has value and promise, especially every young life, even in the most unpromising circumstances.  

And the loss of each life, no matter how distant or disparate from us, diminishes us nonetheless. In the course of our prayers and anxious discourse, or even in our bewildered silence, that undeniable truth must strike a deep, solemn, reverberating chord in each of us.

My memorable visit to Smith Island

Perhaps the most unique appointment in the Peninsula-Delaware Conference or maybe even the entire connection is the Ewell-Smith Island Charge, located on the Salisbury District.  This three-point charge (Calvary –Rhodes Point, Ewell and Union – Tylerton) is served by the Rev. C. Richard “Rick” Edmund, and he is beginning his 15^th year there as pastor.  It is accessible only by a 45-minute boat ride and every week

Pastor Rick goes by foot, by boat and by car to his churches, making the entire circuit each Sunday.  My husband Mike and I traveled there for a weekend in June and were joined by District Superintendent, Rev. Fred Duncan and his wife, Pat.  We were treated to some amazing hospitality.  These people are master chefs!  Imagine having crab omelets, Smith Island cake, maple-cured bacon, home-made rolls and peach ice cream!  

Everyone there travels around by golf cart, and there is a general store, a museum, an elementary school (with only 12 students), a few bed and breakfasts, and a lot that has to do with the work of watermen.  The main business on the island is of course catching crabs and oysters.  Everywhere you look there is water and fields of reed grasses and cranes and gulls gliding over-head.  No city noise, no glaring lights here….just sheer silence and the voices of nature.