STATESMAN

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.

Today I hold Charles McDonald and his family in my heart, gratefully for the hand he played in the shaping of the church which in turn has shaped the lives of so very many - me especially.