Dear former United Methodists,
First, let me say that you are missed and deeply missed. Without a doubt, we accomplished many God-sized missions together on a global level. We built hospitals, universities, and rebuilt weather-torn areas as far as our dollars would allow. We put a dent in malaria in Africa, human trafficking in India, and poverty in Haiti. We sent our youth across the world on Mission of Peace experiences, broadening their horizons and impacting their universal awareness of the breadth and depth of God’s creation. As youth, we gathered for many summers at our camp sites where we learned to sing “Pass it On” underneath a midnight blue sky with a flickering candle in our hands, soaking up a sense of what heaven must be like and leading our friends and us to give a resounding “YES!” to God. Whitney Houston once asked melodically, “Didn’t we almost have it all?”
Things Have Changed
Yet, things have changed. Because there were basic sociological differences among us, tucked into the folds of the Bible and theology, we found a way to disconnect. What a sad sight before a broken world. It won’t be the first time the church has had a family feud that led to multiple denominational camps forming. They’ve been happening since 1054, specifically, July 16 of that year. A different Leo than the current pontiff, Pope Leo IX, and Patriarch Michael Cerularius of Constantinople had it out over matters such as who gets to be in charge, the content of the creed, and the culinary style of the bread used for the Eucharist.
And now, we continue American Methodism’s journey of splitting, merging, and splitting again, whether over race, concerns about episcopal and conference overreach, social issues, or property disputes. I sense this land has not seen the last of such ecclesiastical shifting as the hands of time continue to advance us, our children, and theirs toward the future.
Yet, that’s not what disturbs me. What disturbs me is the aftermath of this particular divide. Granted, the earlier church didn’t have social media screens and platforms where folks could hide behind, throw rocks, and run. But we do, and the online behavior displayed by a small few (and a few kin who share their theological locations) that have left these shores is despicable.
Spewing Vitriol
I’ve been surprised by how former United Methodists, from the vantage point of their newly found denominational contexts, have spewed heavy vitriol against the home they once knew as “church.” Some have teased, ridiculed, insulted, ostracized, and harassed United Methodist clergy, local United Methodist Church social media sites, United Methodist worship experiences online, United Methodist scenarios of closing churches, and United Methodist leaders in general. Words and phrases have been used heavily, like apostate, wayward, God-forsaken, heretics, and blasphemers to describe us. Some of our women clergy have even been insulted by misogynistic rhetoric linked with ill use of scripture references.
Now granted, we are not without our challenges, list of mistakes, perhaps, and difficulties. We are not flawless. You see, that’s the beauty of it all. We serve a God that specializes in working with the flawed. Ask David, Jacob, Peter, and even Judas, who was offered the bread and cup at the table of redemption even when Jesus knew he would betray him. You may be through with us, but God isn’t.
This then, is my plea to you. What you are doing has a name. It’s called, “cyberbullying.” Might you discontinue bullying the very place that offered many of you the gospel, finely preached, the path to salvation, the altars at which you were baptized, confirmed in the faith, married, and, in some cases, ordained? This behavior is not prophetic, loving, nor in the spirit of a worried Jonathan Edwards warning the nation of being “Sinners in the hands of an angry God.” It’s not that either. It’s outright bullying. And it is wrong.
You left. And a few of you left with churches that were established in our fold. You left. You secured what you wanted. An entire history of trust-clause adherence was reversed so you might exit gracefully. Yet, you engage in a post-departure public war of words, which, by the way, does not harm our witness but may very well harm yours.
Dear friends, we may not be United Methodists together anymore, but we are still sitting at the banqueting table together, whether we like it or not, eating from one loaf and drinking from one cup. We are called to be the church, to transform the world, and to offer the invitation to those who have gained an interest in the Savior’s blood.
Find a Path to Healing
Find a path to healing, as hopefully, we are. Discontinue this hyperfocus on a community that helped shape you for the work of discipleship and a life of grace. There’s no need to terrorize your past venue unless, of course, you grieve your departure from it unhealthily and aren’t sure how to cope with it.
So, for the few of you former United Methodist Clergy who are recipients of this plea, lead well, speak well. While you no longer sit in our executive session within our annual conferences, perhaps you can remember that somewhere within, it’s still in you to “do good, do no harm, and stay in love with God.”
Stop bullying and throwing stones at other branches of faith, especially if you’re clergy.
I know that we taught you better than that.
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B. Kevin Smalls is lead pastor of Hope United Methodist Church, Southfield, MI