I Will Stand
In a time of significant change and division within the United Methodist Church, I find myself contemplating the path that many of my peers did not choose: staying within the church even if the General Conference votes to alter our Discipline in ways that some of us believe to be contrary to God's Word. As a female United Methodist pastor, I am acutely aware of the pressures and dilemmas such changes pose to those who adhere to a traditional interpretation of Scripture.
Many colleagues and friends who share my views have chosen to leave, citing their departures as a stand for God’s truth. They argue that remaining would condone what they see as sin being codified into our doctrine. However, I question whether departure is the only or best way to stand for God's truth. To me, it seems akin to fleeing from a battle rather than contending in it. There is a saying that states, "fighting against opposition is easy when you're not facing any." True courage, I believe, is tested when you are surrounded by contrary voices and yet remain steadfast in your convictions.
I sometimes wonder, perhaps with a hint of hubris, whether I am like Queen Esther, born for "such a time as this." This isn't about a heroic stand but a solemn duty to witness for the truth as I understand it from Scripture. The cover of a recent issue of Good News magazine proclaims, “Contend for the Faith.” That resonates deeply with me. How can I, or anyone, truly contend for our faith if we isolate ourselves from those with whom we disagree? Genuine contention for faith involves engagement—robust, respectful, scripturally grounded debate about what God asks of us.
It is indeed a daunting position to be in, like I am on a fragile mountain ledge, watching to see if it will hold or crumble beneath me. Yet, even if this ledge holds today, the uncertainty remains for tomorrow. The next challenge might be even greater, especially as many who would stand firm have instead chosen the relative safety of their enclaves, removing themselves from the frontline.
The prospect of staying may feel like preparing to fall into the abyss, but there is also a profound opportunity in choosing to remain engaged. By staying, we ensure that the traditionalist perspective continues to have a voice in our denomination's evolving conversation. We provide a counter-narrative essential for a comprehensive understanding of our faith’s breadth and depth.
In this challenging moment, our church needs those who can articulate and model a commitment to traditional views, not from a place of judgment or withdrawal but from a position of loving engagement. We need voices that can speak with love and grace, affirming our shared worth in Christ even as we navigate these turbulent theological waters.
To step away would be to relinquish the field to voices that I believe misinterpret the scriptures that guide our faith and practice. Therefore, I choose to stay, not out of obstinacy (okay, those who know me know that stubbornness may play a small part) or denial, but from a conviction that my voice, and the voices of others like me, are necessary. In staying, I hope to embody the robust, resilient faith that contends earnestly, not just in times of agreement but, more critically, in times of profound disagreement. This is the essence of contending for the faith—being present, being engaged, and being steadfast amidst the storm.
