REV. DR. MICHELLE J. MORRIS HAS A MASTER OF DIVINITY DEGREE AND A PH.D. IN RELIGIOUS STUDIES BOTH FROM SOUTHERN METHODIST UNIVERSITY. SHE ALSO SERVES AS A UNITED METHODIST PASTOR IN ARKANSAS. SHE STARTED THIS BLOG BECAUSE SHE TAKES THE BIBLE SERIOUSLY, NOT LITERALLY. FOLLOW THE BLOG AND YOU WILL SEE WHAT SHE MEANS.
All in Public Bible Scholar
“Now, part of me wants to proudly proclaim how prophetic that reality is. In the midst of an overcrowded and far too commercial season, my family and our one tradition speak to what is actually important about Christmas…. But try explaining that prophetic reality to a 5 year old who never has a mother home Christmas Eve to bake cookies for Santa.”
“And for those of you with children who have wondered why your Christmas season is different from others, perhaps reading this translation of this ancient document will help them understand. Also, I am sorry for all of the big and complicated words, but it is a legal document. Please explain to your children as best you can in a way they will understand. As a translator, I must stick to the actual words. And to all of you who serve as pastors and your families, this is my gift to you. Merry Christmas!”
But months later, the trauma washed over me, drowned me. I happened to be on a retreat, and we had shared our lives with one another, and I had finally told my story, and the gravity of it crushed me down. Quite literally. As I made my way to my room, I sat on the floor. Then I fell over. I curled into a ball. I knew I needed to brush my teeth. I knew I needed to put on my pajamas. I knew I needed to turn out the light. I knew I needed to climb into the bed. And I also knew I could do none of those things.
“After worship, the woman caught me. ‘I decided to tell her the truth. I decided to tell her I had spent too many years in the closet. I was never going to be able to come out of that closet in my other church. For all the problems with Methodism, I at least know I am okay to be out of the closet. And you know what? She told me she had quit going to church because she started taking some medicine for depression and they told her she was weak if she needed those pills and she didn’t have enough faith. I am so glad you told me to talk to her. I think we have a real connection now.’”
It will help some of you to understand that I am a one on the enneagram. I don’t need to be the star necessarily, but let’s just say I have a healthy ego. Or at least I did until I got the message that basically no one wants to see me on video. But what’s wrong with seeing me? After all, aren’t we in a culture that validates us by our exposure? Who am I if I am not a well-liked social media presence? What purpose do I have if my image is not out there, getting shared and drawing in new friends? Why should I even bother writing a book if I can’t tell my own story?
I was wearing a t-shirt that said, “I love Jesus. But I cuss and drink a little.” Part of me was grateful for the honest declaration about where things were imminently headed. But part of me, part of me realized I had “Jesus” emblazoned across my chest and I was treating a fellow human being exactly how Jesus would not treat this human being.
I am going to hear ridiculous things like this for the entirety of my ministry. So will probably all the women pastors currently serving (I hold out a glimmer of hope for my younger Millennial and Gen Z colleagues, but stupidity takes a long time to weed out). So when John MacArthur told Beth Moore to go home, I just rolled my eyes. It is nothing we haven’t heard before. It is nothing we won’t hear again. The only difference is the high visibility of the two people involved.
Another pastor, Doug, had a two-point charge and was struggling to know how to lead them both. After testing both congregations, he understood what his difficulty was. He had one Matthean church, and one Lukan church, and he is Johannine. All of them were approaching discipleship in different ways. Now he knew he needed to do some translation for his people, because in some ways they were all speaking different languages of discipleship. Different languages of discipleship. How are we supposed to understand each other then?
It is the only way we survive this life. You see, we are asked, expected, to love people deeply. And then a day comes, like ripping a bandaid off, when we stop loving that group of people and turn around and start loving another group of people, just as deeply. I know the theology behind this. I know the discipline, and it is a discipline I am called to. But that doesn’t make the reality any easier to live. So when we know we are leaving, we have to start giving ourselves the space we need to survive this life. We have to start making the transition from one people to another.
“And so yeah, there was that banner, flying for a month across the street. It was the first I had ever heard of Pastor Appreciation Month, so I thought for a bit it was something that particular church cooked up. Maybe that’s what some of my people thought too. Except Google exists. And Facebook exists. So that delusion didn’t last long. So I went one long month, no cards or emails, but with my encouragement file on my desk instead of tucked away. It was hard. I know I shouldn’t care about such things, but when it is waving in your face, it is a little hard to ignore.”
That is what we do. We stand in line at the store and look in the shopping carts of the people ahead of us, and no matter what they have in there, we judge. But then if we see them use the SNAP EBT card, we feel entitled to judge.
“There appears to be a distinct difference in Millennials and Gen Z when it comes to the end of the world. Millennials have shaped their worldview around it. Gen Z has decided to ignore it.”
“They are on this road, and they have a destination, but honestly they don’t know where they are headed. I have found myself on such a road from time to time in my life. The traveling companions you take with you are crucial on those roads. “
This woman knows I live an hour from Little Rock. She also knows I am a United Methodist pastor…. She knows I am fully invested in my denomination, and she knows I can’t live out my call in her denomination. And yet, despite all that, she invited me to her church anyway.
Methodists: sit up and take note.
“I did get up and go to church. I sat next to people I sit next to every week. Not one of them, except the people who came in the same car as me and the pastor who presided over communion, know I am a survivor. So no one knew to check on me. This community has left me to wither and die on the vine. They have left me feeling like I have more in common with people in bed suffering from depression than with people who have hope in resurrection.”
