I’m thankful to the recent video from the Wesleyan Covenant Association for reminding me that when I entered ordained ministry I gave my assent to the United Methodist doctrinal standards and General Rules (Par. 104, 2016 Book of Discipline), and that “promises should be kept.”

I have not kept those promises. To begin with some of the most important, I have broken the promises I made the year of my ordination, when my bishop asked, “Do you know the General Rules of our Church?” and “Will you keep the General Rules of our Church?” (Par. 336, 2016 Book of Discipline) I answered Yes to both. Since that time,  I have violated many of the General Rules. I invite the Wesleyan Covenant Association to bring formal complaints against me for the following:

a) The profaning the day of the Lord, either by doing ordinary work therein or by buying or selling. (On Sunday, February 26, 2016, I purchased ferry fare from Winslow to Seattle, and two hours’ parking in the parking lot at First United Methodist Church of Seattle. And I would offer my credit and debit card records to the prosecution, for evidence of earlier offenses.)

b) Drunkenness: buying or selling spirituous liquors, or drinking them, unless in cases of extreme necessity. (While I have not been drunk within the statute of limitations, I have at one time or another consumed spirituous liquor — not to mention beer & wine — and it has never been in the case of extreme necessity.)

c) Fighting, quarreling, brawling, brother going to law with brother; returning evil for evil, or railing for railing; the using many words in buying or selling. (On this item, I must plead guilty to the last point, the use of many words in buying. Specifically, I have purchased an automobile. I have purchased software. I have purchased home appliances. Did you ever read all the fine print? MANY words!)

d) The giving or taking things on usury— i.e., unlawful interest. (On this item, I expect that the Wesleyan Covenant Association would insist that the timeless biblical meaning of “usury” be the standard for what is “unlawful interest,” rather than bend the Bible to the whim of secular law that changes from year to year. My specific offense was buying that same car, taking out a loan from my credit union, at interest.)

e) Uncharitable or unprofitable conversation. (Facebook. Need I say more? And Twitter.)

f) Doing to others as we would not they should do unto us. (Too many times to count … but I did not stop to give change to a roadside beggar yesterday, though if I had been begging by the roadside, I’d have wanted someone to stop for me.)

g) Doing what we know is not for the glory of God, as:

 (1.) The putting on of gold and costly apparel. (I have a gold ring on my left hand. The coat I wore today cost about as much as my first paycheck. I could go on.)
(2.) The taking such diversions as cannot be used in the name of the Lord Jesus. (I watched NCIS the other day. Part of the Late Show last night.)
(3.) The singing those songs, or reading those books, which do not tend to the knowledge or love of God. (Song: Maxwell’s Silver Hammer. Book: The Great Gatsby.)
(4) Softness and needless self-indulgence. (You name it. Turning the heat up to 68. The seat-cushion in my car. The second and third cups of coffee in the morning. The vacations over the years to PEI, Thailand, Europe, the ocean … .)
(5) Laying up treasure upon earth. (Savings, pension plan, even Social Security, if you think about it.)

I’ll get to my violations of parts 2 and 3 of the General Rules some other time. I expect the Wesleyan Covenant Association will not wait for these before they designate serious-minded, promise-keeping, evangelical, orthodox members to hold me – and the rest of the people of The United Methodist Church – to account.

Note: This was written on Thursday, July 7. This week, I expect to catch the blog publication of Thursday Thoughts up with the email distribution to the two congregations. (By the way: Sophia, Millie, and Helen, mentioned below, sit in the front row at Brownsville. The very public, very proud average age of these three saints is 98. Balancing them demographically, the average age of Blain, Lucien and Maclaren, in the back row, is 7.)

Dear household of God at Brownsville and Tracyton,

In my Thursday Thoughts, I want to share some of what  I’m learning, what I’m seeing, and what I’m wondering, with both the Brownsville and Tracyton congregations.

This week, I’ve learned:

  • In Brownsville, I’ve learned that some of the liveliest members are also some of the most senior: my gosh, Sophia, Millie, and Helen, you’ve got stories to tell, prayers and concerns and love to share!
  • Brownsville’s people care about the church, whether they attend it or not. A 4th-of-July night phone call forwarded from the church phone let me know that people were doing fireworks in the church parking lot. Had a nice in-person visit with the caller on Tuesday morning, and thanked her for the call.
  • Tracyton: you made a BIG adjustment in worship time, with grace and commitment. Forty-nine of you gathered for the 9:00 service last Sunday — 23 from the old 8:30 service, and 26 from the old 11:00! Good job! Didn’t it feel good having the sanctuary so full that you had to decide where to sit? Wasn’t it fun being able to hear ourselves sing?

This week, I’ve seen God at work:Some of Wes's family at Wollochet Bay, July 4

  • In holy conversations of caring about some of our more vulnerable church family members.
  • In just-as-holy conversations in 4th-of-July gathering of my extended family.
  • In the way people’s lives can move through grief or other wounding, into a new kind of wholeness.

This week, I’ve wondered:

  • How we learn to call a new congregation, and a new pastor, “our” congregation, “our” pastor.
  • How to keep the beautiful vision of the Beloved Community before us, when we are so deeply enmeshed with systemic hate, violence, and a reliance on injustice.

What are you learning? What are you seeing? What are you wondering?

Katherine Parker speaking at Tracyton UMC           This evening, Thursday the 7th, I’d like you to meet my cousin Katherine. Katherine Parker is a United Methodist missionary serving in Nepal [Note: this link from Paul Jeffrey contains a video of Katherine’s work, at the end of the article; it’s mostly about last year’s Nepal earthquakes, and the work of recovery.] She’ll be at Tracyton UMC this evening for a simple meal at 6:00 and a 7:00 program. Katherine is one of the best spokespersons for Missions you’ll ever meet. I hope you can come!

I look forward to seeing you again in worship this Sunday at Tracyton, 9:00 a.m., and at Brownsville, 11:00 a.m. To prepare, you may want to review the prophet Amos, especially chapter 7, and Luke 10:25-37, the parable we call “the good Samaritan.”

Next Tuesday, July 12, you’re welcome to join with me for Word on the Street lunch and conversation at Putter’s, at Rolling Hills Golf Course on McWilliams. We’ll be considering a key scripture or idea for the coming Sunday’s worship service.



[NOTE: As of July 1, I’m appointed to serve as pastor of both the Tracyton church, where I’ve been pastor for four years, and the Brownsville church, 5 miles away across our little peninsula. It’s a large transition for me, and for both congregations. I’m picking up a Brownsville traditional communication, the weekly “Thursday Thoughts,” to keep folks in touch with where we are — where I am — through this time of transition. The “Thursday Thoughts” are emailed, and put up on the Brownsville web page, but sharing them here makes sense, too.]

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Dear sisters and brothers,

The “Thursday Thoughts” email was initiated in the Brownsville congregation to keep the church updated during a major funding project a few years back.

I love the idea! In fact, I love it so much, I think I’ll spread the joy, and share Thursday Thoughts in the Tracyton congregation as well.

Change happens. You make a change, you’re done. Get a new shirt, you have a new shirt. Trade in the car, the new one fits where the old one was.

Transition, however, is another matter. Transition is how our minds are a-swim and our eyes are boggling, and we can’t remember who we are or what we’re looking for in the bookcase, or why we’re gathering for song, and prayer, and a few words, and a meal of bread and juice so skimpy it hardly gets the appetite started.

So we are walking through the wilderness of this Transition together, and it helps to pay curious attention to what we’re learning, what we’re seeing, and what we’re wondering.

It’ll vary from time to time, but I’ll be sharing some of my experiences in these areas … and inviting your reflections in return.

This week, I’ve learned:

  • Joe and Susan Tollefson’s infectious enthusiasm and their love of their Brownsville church’s story
  • More of who Sally Klein is, as she stayed in the Stanton/Bogue one-star motel and shared rides to and from Puyallup for Annual Conference where she served as Tracyton’s Lay Member
  • and, via Geoff Colvin’s Humans Are Underrated, I’ve learned that we humans need physical presence, not just phone & Facebook, and that empathy is a skill that can be learned.

This week, I’ve seen God at work:

  • in the Annual Conference’s difficult, grace-filled conversations and risky, courageous decisions
  • in a friend’s joy as she received communion at Conference for the first time in years, because it felt to her like a truly welcoming body for the first time
  • in Hildegard’s sharing the story of the Brownsville Garden Club with me (okay, this was actually a couple weeks ago, but Oh! What a holy project, helping kids learn the value of caring for plants’ growth, the earth’s health, and the value of patience and partnership).

This week, I’ve wondered:

  • Uh-oh. There’s a problem. When I get too busy, I tend not to wonder enough. Wonder and curiosity are related to awe and worship. So are delight in the exquisite, lament for the tragic, breathing deep in times of serenity, and the desire to allow the Mystery to unfold and to enfold me.
  • One place I’ve come close to holy wonder this week is in opening Rebecca Solnit’s book, A Field Guide to Getting Lost. I’m halfway through … which means, I’m totally awestruck with amazing writing, lost in it, and not at all sure how I will be changed when I arrive out the other side.

This is how Transition is. When we find ourselves oriented again, (to paraphrase Solnit) we cease to be lost not by returning, but by turning into something else.

This week I wonder: Who will I become? Who will we become?



For me, the past weekend was a time of family celebrations and road-tripping across Washington. Thus, I was only briefly aware of the murders in Orlando, and haven’t had time to sit with the reality of it until today.

Because I was away, I was didn’t have the responsibility in worship yesterday morning to put it all together, do instant theology, make quick sense. I didn’t have opportunity to write post a statement on Facebook, or to read more than a very few. I watched very little news. I’m blessed to have been prevented from rushing to righteous anger and self-righteous posturing. (My anger and posturing are mellowed 36 hours to perfection?)

But more than ever, I am feeling the emptiness of those pat statements we make, things like “Our thoughts and prayers are with … .” Especially the statements by politicians, but also by preachers, and other partners in faith communities. Continue Reading »

Turn, turn

Labyrinth at Franciscan Retreat Center, Scottsdale, AZI really like those blasts from our pasts that Facebook invites us to share. This is the labyrinth at the Franciscan Renewal Center in (of all incongruous places) Scottsdale, Arizona. Facebook reminded me that I was there for an Alban Institute training five years ago.

I tend to walk labyrinths, and other paths of prayer, barefoot. It helps ground me. It slows me down. There’s a sole / soul connection.

Sometimes it hurts. The Scottsdale sand is hard packed, coarse-grained, just a bit painful on my usually-protected feet — but Ah! there were fresh hoofprints that morning. (Deer? Javelina!)
(The labyrinth at the Whidbey Institute, by contrast, is worn into a grass lawn, and when I walked it, was deliciously cool, damp soil.)

A bit of Hopkins’ sonnet, “God’s Grandeur,” speaks of the degradation of earth by our action, and our alienation from earth:

“The soil is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.”

And then comes the poem’s turning point.

Taking off my shoes, becoming re-grounded, is a turning point.
Walking the labyrinth is an exercise in turning.
The lines that follow are after the turning point of the poem.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Hopkins could sense this in the 1800s. Perhaps we will too, when we take off our shoes, and turn.

*Maybe this post sounds extra-familiar to you. I wrote it for Facebook on Nov. 17. It’s more a blog post than a Facebook post, though, don’t you think?

After Easter

“After Easter.”

That’s my response, all the way through Lent, to almost any request that I do, or even think about doing, something new.

Anna Smith Children's Park - Beach Path

Lent and Holy Week and Easter are stressful, for pastors.* The ongoing administrative and programmatic events of a church don’t usually shut down for Lent, but additional elements are added. It all culminates in Holy Week, when the number of worship services to prepare trebles or quadruples, without trebling or quadrupling the amount of available preparation time. To make matters worse, of course, Easter is a high-expectations Sunday: expecting maximum attendance, maximum quality, all while participating in not simply the two usual services, but a Sunrise service, a between-services brunch, and something to do with children, eggs, and candy.

And it’s not easy preaching Easter. It’s a challenge to proclaim the Resurrection to a congregation who, for the most part, skipped the crucifixion. (Not to mention that many of those also skipped every other gospel proclamation since “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill to all people.”)

So, with these seasonal tasks on short deadline … and of course, the normal but random assortment of pastoral & personal crises, memorial services, marriages, and beyond-the-church events as well … whenever an idea comes up for doing something really, utterly wonderful, creative, transformative, I’m liable to say, with all earnestness and honesty, “After Easter.” When I say it, I mean it.

You do NOT want to know how many reminders I’ve set on my smartphone, for the Tuesday after Easter. And you really don’t want to know how many times I’ve said, to others or to myself, “After Easter,” but not written it down. Or not written it down anywhere I can find. Or I’ve written it so cryptically that I can’t possibly figure it out (“DP. ord. smtlr” on a post-it is not really useful by the time After Easter rolls around!).

If you’re one of the people to whom I said, “After Easter,” … please be good enough to touch base with me, to remind me (compassionately, patiently!) that I said I’d get to it.

But please, do it after Easter.




* A clergy version of the Holmes-Rahe Stress Inventory pegs Lent/Easter as twice as stressful as Christmas, and more stressful than moving to a new home.


A while back, I received several emailed copies of a chain-letter from several friends, church members, even pastors.

I’ve been in pastoral ministry for thirty-five years. From the very beginning, chain-letters have been a serious problem to the effectiveness of the Church’s witness in the world. They used to be on paper. Now they’re email, or on FaceBook, or … who knows what’s next?

In the old days, it was the repeatedly received mimeographed, xeroxed, copy-of-a-copy letter on paper, bearing an urgent concern about saving religious broadcasting from Madalyn Murry O’Hair’s non-existent attempt to ban it. It spread at the speed of snail-mail. It did damage. Even in the pre-WWW days, the Federal Communications Commission had to hire staff members simply to respond to the counter-petitions and irate phone calls from concerned, gullible Christians. And it made Christians as a whole seem stupid. (And I received that very chain-letter, updated slightly, within the past 10 years, in email.)

With the growth of the internet, the speed of the spread of chain-letters has simply exploded. No more postage costs, no time delay between send and re-send. Whoosh! “See how great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire!” was James’ exclamation about the spread of gossip and rumors by word-of-mouth. James had no idea how bad it could become, once we got the internet!

The recent email was partly true, partly lies, and a decade old (so that even the true parts were seriously misleading). It is still out there doing harm. Well-meaning people forward things without reading them fully and checking the factuality of the whole thing.

I believe this: if we wish to be effective Christian witnesses in the world, we will need to be “wise as serpents,” not just “innocent as doves” (Matthew 10:16). In the “World Wild Web,” this means we should have a healthy caution. We should check out what we read before we even begin to believe it, and we definitely should investigate it before we forward it to others.

It can be harmful to spread stories that are false – or (sometimes more damaging) partly false. It can make people angry (as this email was designed to do by its original compiler, back in 2006).

It can be harmful to others, and to those of us who spread the stories.

It can be harmful to Christ’s church. Like the kid who cried “Wolf!” too often, Christians will be ignored when we tell the truth, if we get a reputation for passing untrustworthy information. When Christians spread falsehood, we damage not only our own Christian witness, but that of all Christians.

I have three simple requests for you who are my church members and my friends (those of you who don’t know me, and especially if I’m not in your email list, you can take it or leave it as you see fit):

  1. Please, please, when you receive an email that suggests you pass it on, check it out before you believe it. Asking you to pass an email on to your email list or your friends is a BIG RED FLAG, whether it’s about news or religion or the supposedly latest computer virus. CHECK IT OUT BEFORE YOU BELIEVE IT. EVERY TIME. How do you check it out? My first source is often the http://www.snopes.com website. (By the way, if the chain-mail says “It’s true: I checked it out on Snopes.com,” that’s also a big red flag. CHECK IT OUT FOR YOURSELF.) If it’s about a supposed computer virus, I check it out at my anti-virus software’s website, too. I can also do a Bing or Google search for a couple key terms in the questionable chain letter. Sometimes a check of the news will help. It does damage to you, to automatically believe what is not true.
  2. ESPECIALLY, please, please, please, CHECK IT OUT BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO PASS A CHAIN-EMAIL ON, EVERY TIME. Even if you choose to believe without checking, you do not want to harm your effectiveness and public trustworthiness, and you have a responsibility not to harm the effectiveness & public trustworthiness of the rest of the Church. It does damage to your friends, and to your relationship to them, to pass on to them what is not true.
  3. It’s a good idea to learn to use “BCC” to send bulk emails. That way, your recipients’ email addresses aren’t forwarded all over the internet to people they don’t know. It keeps them safer from spammers and hackers, and the accidental responder to the email who hits “reply to all.” You harm your friends, if your email to them – and to all – spreads their email address to people with whom they did not choose to share it.

These are common sense, common courtesy, and grounded in the Gospel.

In peace,