The 2019 Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church of
Oklahoma opened and I was on hand in an observing mood. It was –in many ways- a
year of transition and a time of sadness tinged with the relief of laying down
one task to gain energy to take up the next one. So in that mood I interviewed,
watched, and listened with a more objective attitude and weighed things against
a backdrop of past events, current struggles and future possibilities.
What I missed.
I recall the nervous first conferences where clergy and
spouses met and mingled in “Hospitality Rooms”.
Here were the people we could ‘let our hair down’ with and kicked back
to laugh and share news of events and happenings around the conference in a
relatively ‘safe’ environment. Safe in the sense of being able to complain, let
off steam and not feel you were going to get a quelling look from a supervisor
(called a District Superintendent) or later be called on the carpet for
‘anti-company’ attitudes. These were the rooms where people who understood your
struggles with less than stellar church people, hardships from less than
perfect housing, poor jobs, too much to do, or the struggles of children
labeled with the expectations of being a ‘preacher’s kid’.
For me, I recall visiting with older and more experienced
spouses (mostly women then) who shared the struggles of their day. I heard of
parsonages that had to pack up every year as their spouse when to conference,
and waited for the appointments to be announced. If they moved, they were
ready. If they stayed, then did a hurried spring cleaning and unpacked. I heard of Bishops who demanded all women
wear hose to conference, along with a hat and gloves. I heard with laughter and
shock tales of the first women who -
younger or coming from other conferences – dared to wear the new pantsuits sans
hats and gloves! I heard the warmth of kinship and comrades in arms as we all
struggled to be this odd, shifting and ever complex thing called a ‘church
spouse.’ How much was too much? How much
was too little? Most all how to retain a sense of self and individualism in a
world that often expected church spouses to be instant leaders, helpers or role
models? We worked through those issues
with a helping a watery punch and cookies made by women across each district
and sent to the Hospitality room.
Even then, though, the times were changing. New ideas,
attitudes, and behaviors were being seen as more spouses – and church women in
general – were forced to work to make ends meet or selected to work to utilize
their education or training. This was, it should be noted, only a major issue
to female spouses. The then rare male spouses had no expectations that they
would remain at home. In that sense their struggles to adjust were a little
easier.
I miss that Hospitality Room and the deep sense of
‘connection’ it represented and provided.
Of course, conference still offered opportunity to ‘connect.’
Now it is in hallways, in passing and between sessions. Ships – people who
might have been friends had they been given the opportunity to meet and mingle
- passing in the midst of real or perceived busyness.
When I first attended conferences my husband was going
through the steps on the way to Full Elder. Along the way, name badges were
different colors with elders one color, deacons another, and local pastors yet
another. Laity had their own specific hue as well. While this made approving
voting elements easier it also led to behavior some of watched with secret
delight. We noted a peculiar species emerged and some of us coined these people
“Badgers.” This was based on their tendency to not look at your face when
greeting you but at your badge. If you were not the ‘right kind of badge’ the
greetings were brisk and quick while another badge wearer collected effusive
greetings right and left. I recall one
year of this and some of us – lower rung badge wearers – wore ours upside down
and made jokes about being in solidarity in our state of “nonbeing.”
I was reminded of this as I stood in the “Problem Resolutions”
line because being directed to the “laity” check in while my husband headed
toward the “clergy” check in site (in another building) I discovered they did
not have my name or badge. I was once more a ‘nonbeing.” Worse, I recalled a
book I had once read about ‘Ministerial Problems and Procedures’ that – gasp! –
included the pastor’s spouse but failed to categorize if the spouse was to be
considered a problem or a procedure!
“Clergy spouse? They probably put your badge in his packet.”
Non-being alert and possible rant ahead; cute the violins. After years of being
in feminist UMW circle’s, reading and hearing women proclaiming in the church
the need for individual rights and status, here I was being a category: clergy
spouse.
Not a lay person (although I had been a Lay Servant for six
years).Not a clergy. I was that neither fish nor fowl – the spouse. So, although properly registered to attend
annual conference I was ‘odd human out’.
A mere appendage in the equation. Segregated by a marital connection to
a member of the clergy but not recognized as part of either the laity
population or the clergy. As a person whose professional life (yes, the one
outside the church) had focused on areas of customer service and relations,
assessment and missional strategy, I had a lot to think on as I finally climbed
into the bleachers to sit.
Although, I can understand the logistics of managing legal
voting – there is something to be said for the all one color name badges.
What I Liked
The theme of ‘living hope’ from 1 Peter 1:3 was appropriate.
Bishop Nunn called us ‘Broken – but hopeful believers.’ He concluded his remarks by stating firmly
and simply; “We need Jesus!” He likened recent struggles and divisions to the
rival groups in the Corinthian church of Paul’s day. Some might say, he told
the people of the conference, I am of the Traditional Plan. While another may
cry, I am of the One Church Plan. And on and on… Like the church at Corinth, ‘has
Christ been divided?’ He urged us to not
lose sight of the essence of the Gospel (“Accept Jesus Christ and Him crucified”).
He also reminded us that prayer has power. The power to lives,
hearts, and build churches, educate, to speak and share, and minister.
The visit to the conference marked a last. A
closure. A moving from one relationship with the conference to another as my
spouse retired. Despite the wonderful and very apparent number of young adults
in place for this conference – the generational shift is beginning – the youthful
do not have a monopoly on hope. I treasure the things of the past – my history
degree and research proves that – but I also look forward to the future and the
things to come. I am hopeful of the future – regardless of what happens –
because I know that God is still the master of the universe. With God in
control there is always hope. Now to sit back and see what surprises God has in
store for his people
