My Grannie died last year at 102. She was a lifelong Methodist. Born into the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, she spent her adulthood in the Methodist Church, and she died a United Methodist. As a child in a Louisiana logging town, she attended camp meeting every year, and received perfect attendance pins for never missing Sunday School. In 1932, as a young bride and mother, she signed my mother into the Cradle Roll and joined a ladies’ Sunday School class at First Methodist Church in Lake Charles. The “Triple L Class”--Life, Love, and Loyalty--began as a group of young mothers and stayed together for 75 years.
Widowed herself in her early fifties, Grannie became a home care companion and baby sitter in order to survive financially. Into her mid-eighties, she worked as a “helper” in the First Methodist day care. She held toddlers when they cried. She taught pre-schoolers to tie their shoes, and set out the juice and cookies at snack time. Even when babysitting fees were her sole income, she gave her widow’s mite to the church. When at age 98 she could no longer live alone, she moved into a nursing home on Medicaid. The women at First United Methodist visited her until the day she died. Triple L only ended after 2005 when Hurricane Rita destroyed the local infrastructure for the elderly. The last few elderly widows lost their ability to live independently, and the Triple L Class died out.
What would someone like my grandmother think about 21st
century Methodism as a “global church”? Even
though Grannie never left the United States, she carried a vision of the church
as a worldwide community. She attended
the summer schools of mission sponsored by the United Methodist Women. She gave
her dollar dues to Church Women United. She sewed bean bags and “yo yo” dolls to
raise money for outreach. She befriended a retired woman missionary, “Miss
Julia,” who returned to Lake Charles after years of missionary work in
pre-Castro Cuba. In Grannie’s lifetime, she saw the steady expansion of her
church from a regional to a national entity. She knew herself to be part of a worldwide network, particularly of
women and children, who followed Jesus.
But other aspects of global Methodism I don’t think she
would have understood. Grannie would not have appreciated the violent
disagreements and cultural polarization at General Conferences. She would think
it wrong to tithe her widow’s mite so that bishops could attend ever-increasing
numbers of international meetings. If
church leaders had asked her opinion, which of course they never did, she would
have affirmed that feeding needy children was far more important than spending
time arguing over clerical privileges, and launching global study commissions.
I am sure that were she alive today, my beloved grandmother
would support the vision of United Methodism as a global community. But she
would see it through the lenses of mission, friendship, and fellowship in Jesus
Christ. Power politics, big expenditures for corporate-style meetings, and the
accoutrements of status and privilege would be foreign to Grannie. Life, love,
and loyalty. . . the church as family. . . this is what it meant for her to be
a “global” United Methodist.
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