On Wednesday I was a former pastor of a warm, generous United Methodist congregation in a small rural town in North Carolina, a student at Duke Divinity with 3 extremely gracious professors willing to do anything to help me graduate in May, a husband to an incredibly supportive and loving wife, a father to 5 vivacious, beautiful kids, friend to a handful of fascinating people spread around the globe, and thrilled about what the future held as we stuffed boxes to move back home to Cleveland, Tennessee.

Thursday morning I woke up and saw my face on the cover of MSNBC.com.   Before I could wipe up the coffee I spewed on myself (I have a habit of waking up every morning to coffee and prayer) my wife shouted from the bedroom that the phone was for me – it was Fox News in New York City.   I let the coffee drip.

Friday morning Good Morning America called.   I think I’m developing an ulcer.

Despite some new coffee stains and some stomach pain, I’m still the same guy I was on Wednesday with one exception:  My heart aches over the brokenness of all of it.  Of all of us.

Since I have a few extra friends today, and seem to have your attention at least for this news cycle, I have a few things I need to say.    I hope you’ll pay attention.

First, I’m no victim.   While I appreciate the many things said from what I know to be well-meaning people trying to lift my spirits, I assure you, I am doing great.   I am not angry.  I am not disgruntled.  I’m not going to go postal.    I’ll tell you what I told the GMA guy who wanted to know if I can fly to NYC for Sunday morning:

I’ll do this if it is for a theological discussion about heaven vs. hell and what it means to be a Christian but if your story is about a small-town pastor who lost his job, no thanks.

He said he’d call me back tomorrow morning after discussing it with his cast and crew.  My guess is I’ll get to drink my coffee and have my prayers in peace tomorrow.  Awesome.

Second, as a student-pastor in the United Methodist Church I am not a fully ordained elder.   As such, there are different parameters surrounding the due-process for removing a pastor from a student-pastor appointment.   I’m not going to pretend like I know what those parameters are, but I know this:   My District Superintendent, Gray Southern, had my back from the  beginning.   My respect for him in the midst of this dicey situation only increased as he navigated me through this with grace and love.   Every day he called me to see how I was doing and how my family was doing and to remind me that we are in his prayers.

As I reflect on all that has happened I regret that “fired” language (a corporate word that has no bearing in ecclesial matters like this one) got into the mix.   I have written some things over the years on my blog that have made members of my congregation unhappy, desiring that I take my show elsewhere.  This is true.  Equally true is this:   I was their shepherd and responsible for how, and where, I lead my sheep. A good shepherd doesn’t make his or her sheep jump the Jordan River when they haven’t had enough time to graze by the waters to get their strength.   A good shepherd knows his or her sheep well enough to know what kind of food they can stomach.    So this was less a firing and more a divorce.   My flock knew that I  couldn’t take them where they were ready to go and I knew I could no longer feed them effectively if I hung around.    The decision that I move on was painful for all parties involved.    Please keep that in mind as you try to make bad guys out of me or them.

Now, this is important.    Several bloggers have taken it upon themselves to say how this story is proof that the Methodist Church, or all churches, are broken – products of a dead age.

Duh.

Show me a perfect church or a perfect way of doing church and I’ll show you the realized Kingdom of God among us.  It’s not fully here….yet.   We are, at present, cracked icons.   We see through the glass dimly.  It’s very easy to sit from behind a computer screen and say how you or I would/should/could have handled a situation.  We all become Armchair Theologians eager to toss our stones from the cheap seats.   The irony in all this is that many of the people applauding me for taking a stand for “Love Wins” end up being the people who are the most judgmental towards those they perceive to be less enlightened.    In such cases, No One Wins.

I love the Church of Jesus Christ.  I believe as United Methodists, though far from perfect, live into our calling to be faithful disciples pretty dang well – or at least we strive to.   I’m proud to be a member of this tribe of mongrels.

And for the record, when someone who devotes his or her life to the service of Christ’s church says “no comment” when asked about a split between a church and their shepherd, it need not mean that there is something sinister going on that the ecclesial “powers” are trying to hide.  It might just mean that divorces are sad  and messy and often complex and you don’t deserve or need a front seat to the bedroom window.    In other words, it might just mean,

It’s none of your damn business.

As I think about it, that might be what I tell Good Morning America should they call tomorrow.

And then enjoy my coffee.