A New Vision
The Council of Bishops and Connectional Table have collaborated in developing a new vision statement for the denomination: The United Methodist Church forms disciples of Jesus Christ who, empowered by the Holy Spirit, love boldly, serve joyfully, and lead courageously in local communities and worldwide connections. (Earth image by NASA Space Observatory; graphic by Laurens Glass, UM News)
Special to United Methodist Insight | May 5, 2025
Everything in the new United Methodist "vision statement" is very nice. On face value, it's all very wholesome and good, and yes, our denomination and our individual churches would do well to ponder the themes contained therein. I just wish that's how it had been presented—as a few thoughts our leaders would like our churches to reflect upon, rather than as some totalizing “vision” for our Church moving forward.
I mean no disrespect to the bishops or the Connectional Table, who worked so hard on this. Yet I can't help but think that these kinds of statements—whether we're talking about vision statements, mission statements, core values, or really any attempt to encapsulate the purpose, meaning, or task of the Church—wind up being incredibly reductive.
I think I can understand and appreciate why these pithy declarations have become such a staple within secular institutions. Businesses and agencies use them to help focus their organizational energy around certain tasks that can yield tangible, measurable results, and to that end, they are fit for purpose. But the Church just isn't that.
We are the mystical body of Christ, called to carry on his mission on earth. That "job," so to speak, cannot be contained in a paragraph, no matter how eloquently it may be articulated. The grand mystery of who we are—and everything we are called to be—cannot be circumscribed or summarized into such easily digestible nuggets or succinct talking points. That's what marketers do. That's what politicians do. And I've always felt like some folks in the Church have been trying to get us to take our cues from them.
I think we are at our best when we go deeper—when we plumb the depths of meaning, identity, and symbolism, and when we ask difficult questions that we know are not so easily answered. For instance:
"Love boldly"—What does that mean, exactly? I’ve known folks in some churches who are trying their best to love at all—whether meekly, sheepishly, defiantly, whatever. And we celebrate every tiny step they take. Ought we say that they are not yet fulfilling the "vision"? Should we be dissatisfied with their efforts? Likewise, there are plenty of folks in the Church who struggle with codependency and attachment disorders, who need to learn, frankly, how to love more lightly—how to rightly order their love for someone else. “Loving boldly” is not, in itself, a bad sentiment. It just requires nuance and clarification.
"Serve joyfully"—Speaking for myself, it's sometimes all I can do to serve begrudgingly. For that matter, I think it’s also true that sometimes we're actually called to serve with seriousness, sobriety, or (in times like these) even anger. Can one do that with joy? I think so, but it takes a lot of thought to sort that out.
"Lead courageously"—Again, this sounds very nice, but we also need to have room to accept the fact that, as Christians, we're not always called to lead. In fact, I think there are times when we should purposely step aside. Why? Because, living in a post-colonial world, we are now reckoning with the disaster that came from having Christian leadership in all sectors of society. Some—even within the UMC—believe that only Christians are fit to lead, both culturally and politically. Sometimes what people refer to as a "call to leadership" is really just personal ambition and self-aggrandizement. Other times, it becomes a rationalization for oppression.
The Church is called to do so many things, in so many disparate places, among so many people—each with their own story, journey, and struggles. I appreciate the effort to speak a word about "who we are now," especially since the Church feels reborn in the wake of our last General Conference. I do think we should spend time reflecting on the missio Dei—the mission that God has set before us in these uncertain times. But that reflection needs to be deep. It needs to be humble. And it needs to make room for the tremendous mystery that is the Spirit, that Holy Wind, that blows where it chooses.
The Rev. Derek Kubilus
Courtesy Photo
The Rev. Derek Kubilus of Ashland, Ohio, is a United Methodist clergyman. He is the author of "Holy Hell: A Case Against Eternal Damnation." This post is adapted by the author from his Facebook page for publication on United Methodist Insight.