A couple of months ago, a recently ordained minister was being examined during our presbytery meeting. Another pastor rose to challenge a portion of his statement of faith. The new minister looked down at what he had written, indicated his words did not express at all what he intended, and quickly owned up to his mistake. With grace and good humor, he recognized the error. With grace and a bit of levity, the presbytery noted his oversight – and then approved his examination. These days, such an exchange–a timely admission and a gracious response–is not always common among Presbyterians.
Ironically, perhaps, this was the presbytery meeting during which we received a proposed resolution regarding the authoritative interpretation adopted by last summer’s General Assembly.
A few weeks later, we met again to consider and act upon the resolution. We prayed for God’s guidance and listened for the leading of the Holy Spirit. We heard from our General Assembly commissioners and a panel of elders and ministers. We shared in small groups, using a process of mutual invitation. We debated the resolution. Commissioners spoke with clarity and conviction, and occasionally with passion that pushed the bounds of healthy discourse, but only rarely with any rancor. We voted, and then we worshiped God together.
Several days had passed when my wife and I enjoyed dinner with two friends, both of whom are pastors in another Christian tradition. When I shared the story of our dialogue at the presbytery meeting, they were quite impressed. In their tradition, they indicated, such an exchange would not be possible.
At this juncture in the life of our church, being a faithful pastor involves study, reflection, conversation, and prayer – discernment that leads to convictions and perspectives about our ordination standards and their application. Like everyone else, I have my own opinion. But perhaps most importantly, at this wrenching moment, faithfulness demands acknowledging and honoring the other points of view of brothers and sisters in Christ. As one among millions, I desperately need the prayers and friendship of Presbyterians far different from me. Like the candidate a few months ago, I could be wrong.
In the fall issue of “Auburn Views,” Barbara Wheeler, the president of Auburn Theological Seminary and a member of the Theological Task Force on Peace, Unity, and Purity, acknowledges the sacrifice of gay and lesbian Presbyterians. “From all of them,” she writes, “I have learned about Christ’s kind of self-giving love.” Then, at the same moment, she does a blessed thing: she also recognizes the deep commitment of extraordinary Presbyterian conservatives “whose faith, character, and courage frequently exceed my own.” I yearn for a church in which such a witness is an ordinary event.
In the midst of this great controversy, beyond the barricades of our experiences and the limits of our wounds and our vulnerability, is it possible for us to imagine a church in which we may be one?
When I was a seminary student, one of our professors would sometimes interrupt himself in the midst of a lecture to simply and quietly say, “Blessed are those who do not take offense.” I hope that our Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) will embrace the discipline of mutual forbearance.
During the course of my ministry, I have been deeply and richly blessed by the grace and witness of so many Christians — and so many kinds of Christians. I pray for a church in which that may continue to be so.
Glen Bell is pastor of Faith Church in Indianapolis, Ind.
