I was saddened to hear this week of the death of Charles
McDonald. Charles was a clergy leader of
distinction for many years in Arkansas United Methodism, having served in both
administrative and pastoral roles.
The poignancy of his death for me does not actually have to
do with the dying itself – after all, Charles was 86 and under Hospice care,
and, from what I understand, died peacefully with the benefit of good care and
the presence of family.
And I am saddened sympathetically for his children,
especially his son Tom with whom I was at one time quite close – I know from
experience that losing a father of considerable stature is a trial of some
challenge.
Plus there is a nostalgia in this that links to my two
summers many, many years ago as resident counselor at Shoal Creek Camp in the
old Fort Smith District of the North Arkansas Annual Conference where I was
privileged to spend a lot of time with men and women who became heroes for me
over the years – Charles McDonald, Charles Casteel, Max Whitefield, Hillman
Byram, Pryor Cruce, Allan Hilliard, just to name a few.
My deeper sadness comes from a trend I have observed for
some time but only shared in private with Beth.
I make this observation from afar, having been out of the stream of
Arkansas United Methodism for some considerable time. Charles McDonald’s death for me throws into
high relief the continual erosion of statesmanship in the denomination.
There was a time when the leaders in the church were not
known for gang affiliations and
theological identities, but for their winsomeness and their
effectiveness and their courage. Their
leadership did not seem to be held hostage to theo-political opinions about
human sexuality and a host of other distractions, but seemed to move
relentlessly toward the greater good and advancement of the body of
Christ - in other words, they were unapologetic Wesleyans.
These statesmen seemed to operate with a sense of benevolent
pragmatism with which the minor points of theological judgment were not allowed
to interfere. They were wise and
pastoral and pretty smart most of the time.
Their expedience was not brutal.
They did not question an opponent’s right to call him- or herself a
Christian. They did not let callousness
masquerade as conviction. To them grace was
serious business, not a footnote. They
practiced inclusiveness on many levels, but without calling it that.
