When Kindness Is Mean

Is there any fairness left within the United Methodist Church?

An uncomfortable politeness

There was an uncomfortable politeness in the air when I walked into the church that would serve as the site of my fair process hearing. Less than a month earlier the full Board of Ordained Ministry had met without my knowledge or presence to consider whether to discontinue my status as a Provisional Elder within the United Methodist Church. That meeting occurred even though the Book of Discipline (the rules by which the United Methodist Church must govern itself) requires otherwise, at least in my opinion. I suppose that same Discipline is open to interpretation, and for a Provisional Elder like me, there is nothing to keep the Conference leadership from interpreting that Discipline in a way that deprives me of my rights to a fair process. Now, in a hearing that was supposed to be fair, and one in which the Conference Secretary would ultimately admit that I was correct in my contention that their interpretation did not make sense, I was being met with a strange kindness that gave me a sense of uneasiness as I entered what was supposed to be a place of worship to defend my status within this denomination.

How could they be so friendly? Had they missed the gravity of this situation? After a twenty plus year legal practice, eleven of which were spent as a litigator, I had grown accustomed to intense hearings where emotions could sometimes run high, and they were usually marked with decorum and respect. However, I couldn’t recall ever encountering polite friendliness between parties. These people were not my friends. They had just played a pivotal role in the proceeding which began this process. They had worked against me at every turn since I first announced that I was not ready to abandon the congregation that I had been called and appointed to serve just because they broke formal affiliation with the denomination (disaffiliating from the United Methodist Church). Now they were asking about my life. Did they really care?

Authentic kindness

That evening, following the conclusion of my fair process hearing, I would return to that disaffiliated church where they would be hosting the closing ceremony of their week-long vacation Bible school. Nearly twenty kids had participated in this year’s vacation Bible school, an amazing turnout for this small church. The spirit of authentic kindness, genuine excitement, and the warm embrace that I would find at that small church that night has caused me to reel in the days following that fair process hearing. How could one person experience such disparate church-related environments in one day? If good and evil were ever incarnate, I believe that I experienced a day in the life of both that day.

A fair trial?

I was amazed at how accurately the church leaders who were responsible for conducting my fair process hearing had apparently arranged the room to resemble a courtroom! I sat at the defense table, apparently. I was provided the opportunity to switch tables to one closer to the television screen, because apparently my fair process hearing would be involving a judge who would not even be physically present. I politely declined. If this remote judge was not able to hear me, that was not my fault! Or was it? I had already been summarily denied my request to continue this hearing to another day. The Discipline required a notice of this hearing no less than twenty days prior. That notice was required to provide sufficient details for me to prepare a defense. In my case, that notice had contained no details. However, the Conference Secretary, who had played a pivotal role in the effort to discontinue me thus far, summarily denied my request for more time.  It seemed to me that the desire was to ensure that this matter would be presented to the full Clergy Session during this year’s Annual Conference, no less than a week later. And my request would have undoubtedly thrown a wrench in those plans.

So, I humbly renewed my request before this body which was given some level of apparent authority under the Discipline. That request was again summarily denied. We are going to go ahead with this hearing, I was told. A week’s notice was considered sufficient for me to counter several factual inaccuracies that had been presented to the Board of Ordained Ministry prior to their vote to discontinue me as a Provisional Elder. Forget witnesses. This is not supposed to feel like a trial, I was told (by the Conference Secretary/seemingly the primary advocate for my discontinuance). I hope it won’t feel that way, she told me via email the day before. I thought, you’re trying to strip me of my credentials as a United Methodist clergy! I hope it does feel that way! It should! I’m entitled to no less!

The complete picture

I could not have been more mistaken. In my hasty preparation for this fair process hearing, I had prepared a twenty-seven-page defense document, along with eighty-seven pages of exhibits detailing the full history of my interaction with Conference leadership that led to my discontinuance by the Board of Ordained Ministry as a Provisional Elder. The Conference leadership had only provided me with sixteen pages of record on which the Board of Ordained Ministry relied to discontinue me. They obviously did not have a complete picture of my case. Yet, in this fair process hearing, which would last less than two hours, I was rushed to conclude the presentation of my defense on multiple occasions. I’m aware of our time . . ., the Conference Relations Committee Chair would repeatedly announce, and we need to begin wrapping up in terms of the information that you think that we would need to hear. With this, I was rushed into concluding my defense of their action to undo seven years of my labor with this United Methodist Conference – during this fair process hearing.

Shifting sands

The propounders of the action to de-credential me shifted their tune from their presentation to the Board of Ordained Ministry less than a month prior. During that meeting, they apparently had informed the Board that I refused an appointment within our Conference. However, during this hearing, the nuance of their language shifted – Jason has refused our invitation into the appointment process. That was interesting – particularly since one of my defenses was that I had never received an appointment from the Conference! The hearing Committee asked me – did you refuse the invitation into the appointment process? What does that mean? I am uncertain. All that had ever been inquired of me was – have you changed your mind about wanting to serve your disaffiliated church? Well, no, I still feel God leading me in that direction. Then why would you not just surrender your credentials? Because I am still called to the United Methodist Church, and I believe that we can do better!

Marching forward

At the end of the day, I provided (as much as I was allowed) the full picture of my defenses to this Conference Relations Committee. Somehow, though, I was not confident of their authority to provide me with the fair process to which I was entitled. The power of the Conference leadership was too great, I feared. From day one, that leadership had told me in no uncertain terms, there is no pathway for you to serve a disaffiliated church in this Conference. Now, five months later, that same leadership appeared to me to be committed to ensuring that their position would not be undermined. They seemed to me to be assembled against me in a unified effort to ensure that my process would be anything other than fair. And I believed that this was the end of the line for me. Or pretty close to it. Just one more step – presentation before the Annual Conference Clergy Session – and they would accomplish what appeared obvious to me was their goal – ridding the denomination of my contrary voice for good.

Reeling with kindness!

Yet they peppered me with kindness – kindness that left me reeling at the apparent disingenuousness with which they spoke. Where are you going for your twenty-fifth-year anniversary with your wife? Seriously? Do you really care? For the last five months, you seem to have done nothing but work to ensure I would either toe the line or be gone. And now you ask me about my life? And my wife? I felt dirty. Ashamed. To be a part of a religious organization infused with what seemed like such deceit. And then I came home to that awful church that had mistakenly refused to follow such a clear path for their lives – to remain United Methodist. Yet somehow, when I joined that disaffiliated church that evening, I felt at home.

Like chaff

At the end of the day, God works in the most mysterious ways. All our agendas and schemes fall short of bringing us closer to the living God who weeps over our iniquities. The Spirit blows where it pleases – we know not where it comes from or where it is going. I am learning a great deal about what that Scripture really means. I am saddened to believe that the United Methodist Church has apparently long forgotten Jesus’ words – at least my Conference. Yet I remain committed to growing in that Spirit, to understanding how to bend to its movement, and to allowing those I encounter who do not, to flow past me like chaff driven by the wind (Psalm 1:4).

UPDATE: After writing this article but before I could get it proofed and published, my United Methodist Conference did an about-face in my case and continued me as a Provisional Elder in the Conference. However, it appears to me that there has been no change of heart in Conference leadership and that their actions are strategic, rather than being made in good faith. Stay tuned to my Substack for future articles in which I will provide further updates.