Called Forth: A Conversation with Bishop Paul Lawler

The following is an edited conversation with Reverend Paul Lawler, recorded shortly after his return from Johannesburg, where the Global Methodist Church held its General Conference and elected him as bishop for Area Seven.

For someone who wasn't following closely, what happened in Johannesburg? What do our people need to know?

First, I want to give a shout-out to Don Borland, Hannah Hutchinson, and my wife Missy, who came and was a tremendous support during those days. General Conference is not a cakewalk. You're up early in the morning, often going until 9:30 at night, jet-lagged, and the demand for high concentration and intellectual focus is significant. You have to be on your toes because you're covering things that will set the polity for the church.

The biggest thing that happened is this: when we came into the Global Methodist Church, we inherited articles of faith that were a combination of the Methodist Episcopal Church historically and the Evangelical United Brethren Church, formed in the 1968 merger. Those articles were a bit antiquated—not in what they affirmed from an orthodox perspective, but in some peripheral language. Our best theologians, gifted thinkers, laypeople and clergy, worked as a writing team to refine them.

The greatest accomplishment coming out of General Conference is the way those revised articles of faith were affirmed and passed with overwhelming support. I would encourage our church family to Google "Global Methodist Church Articles of Faith," read them, and resonate with our commitment to solid Christian doctrine rooted in Scripture and 2,000 years of Christianity.

We've heard a lot about how rapidly the Global Methodist Church is growing. What gave you a sense of where the denomination is headed?

God is moving through this movement in two ways: migration and movement.

The migration continues—and it's not just people out of the United Methodist Church. People in other Wesleyan denominations all over the world have been looking for a home, and they're finding it here. We have emerging annual conferences in Mozambique. In Brazil, between 300 and 400 churches are exploring the possibility of joining the Global Methodist Church, and that looks probable.

But there's also movement—brand new churches being planted among people who weren't previously reached. In the Congo, in Zambia, in Nigeria, we're seeing hundreds of new church plants. That's not migration from an old wineskin. That's new people being reached for Jesus Christ. These really are exciting days.

Now to the elephant in the room. You went to Johannesburg knowing there was another possibility hanging over you. You were elected bishop for Area Seven. What was going through your mind that morning?

I've shared for years that your circumstance is your classroom. For over five months, Missy and I had been living in this duplicity of not knowing exactly what the future holds. Most of that time, God graciously gave us the peace that passes understanding—though that didn't mean we were going to be called into the episcopacy.

On that day, I felt some anxiousness. I won't be dishonest about that. And little spurts of adrenaline, just because you don't know your future is about to be voted on. Missy and I had said repeatedly that if God called us to stay at Christ Church, we would delight in that. This is God's will, and we'll serve His people.

When my name was called and affirmed, if anyone was watching online, you might have noticed that when other names were called, some put their head on the table and began to cry. I'm more of a processor, so I stood up and started shaking hands. But when I got back to the hotel room, I hugged Missy and broke down.

I think I was crying in the sense of, Okay, God. Now I know what this is unto. There also was this sense of, "Okay, Lord, here's your confirmation. I heard your voice." There was never presumption on my part. But the lesson I hope others can take from this is what Scripture says: "My sheep hear my voice, and they know me." I heard His voice—not audibly, but in my spirit. That's the great takeaway from all of this.

You had said no three times before. Do you understand those nos differently now?

I do. If I'm honest, every time I said no, there was a small check in my spirit. Are you really doing the right thing? Are you resisting something God may be saying? I can be hard on myself, but I also recognize that when you're discerning the will of God, having more than one witness is one of the ways God confirms things. By the time I was asked a fourth time—in that hotel conference room in Orlando last March, by my friend Dr. Steve Cordle—I knew, stronger than before, that the Lord was speaking. I didn't presume how the outcome would unfold. But I knew He was speaking.

What do you think God revealed about yourself through that process?

I'm going to be honest. I can be thick-headed. I'm capable of resisting the Holy Spirit.

I love the Christ Church family deeply. This has felt like home—spiritually, emotionally, physically. I love our people. I love our leaders. I love our staff. And I didn't want to let go of that. Sometimes that can become an idol, even if a small one. Good things can become idols where we resist the voice of God. I look back and I recognize there was some resistance in me for a time.

When the vote was revealed, you had a massive smile on your face. Walk us through that.

Part of it was relief. I'm a processor, and the reality that I had been called to be a bishop hadn't sunk in yet—honestly, it didn't until last Thursday when I'd recovered from jet lag. So part of that smile was simply being out of the duplicity of not knowing.

The other part was gratitude. There were roughly 400 voting delegates and 1,000 people in that room. To have your peers call you out and trust that it's Jesus' voice through His body—that smile is just thanking God. As I was shaking hands, I was thinking about God's sovereignty. I thought about my mother. She told me when I was about 12 that when I was in the delivery room, Jesus spoke to her and said, Keep this boy in church. I have something special I want him to do. And you may not always like it. In our church planting years, we were living well below the poverty line. Church authorities were fairly indifferent to that. We were gutting it out, and it was hard. But she kept my brother and me in church. I thought about her in that moment, and about the possibility that she did hear the Lord.

When did the weight of it all begin to sink in?

Last Thursday. And it was sobering—I overuse that word, but it fits. I recognize the intensity of the responsibility: to equip, to guard our doctrine, and to do that in love. As I said on the conference floor, doctrine alone won't renew the church. Doctrine on fire will. When doctrine is full of love and passion and light and life, it changes things.

I also feel the weight of every local church and every pastor who is struggling. Where the church is lukewarm or anemic, I feel the responsibility to pray and labor for her renewal. So when it began to sink in, it's not about the title. It's about the realness of the responsibility.

This office—the episcopos—is not a modern invention. In the first 100 years of Christianity we had bishops. Irenaeus, who was martyred. Polycarp. These were overseers who took responsibility for the spiritual condition of the church and labored for her revitalization and renewal. That is deeply steeped in Scripture and in Christian history. And I take that seriously.

What will your ministry actually look like in Area Seven?

The immediate thing is leading annual conference gatherings in these seven areas, which I'm told will soon become nine. But I have no intention of only showing up for annual conference and then disappearing. I want to connect with cabinets and conference superintendents, but I also want to get out front, visit churches, encourage people, pray with them. Where people are celebrating what Jesus is doing, I want to celebrate alongside them. Where people are hurting, I want to sit in the mud with them and labor together toward what God wants for the future.

I have no intention of lording anything over anyone. I come in the spirit of Jesus, which is to serve. And I hope that through these next six years and beyond, God sows seeds of renewal—not just in the Global Methodist Church, but toward the reformation of nations. When Jesus moves, and people awaken to Him, it blesses nations. We saw it in 18th century England. Awakening brings cultural renewal. God's way works.

What excites you most about this ministry? What feels most daunting?

I love the local church. That's what excites me. I've had the honor of planting a church in North America and in other parts of the world, so I know what's possible. I'm also deeply invested in multiplicative discipleship, and I've seen it work. When you've experienced what's possible, you stop putting a lid on your thinking. My greatest hope is to see multiplicative discipleship and church planting for the glory of God on a global level.

What's most daunting is related to that. Too many people don't believe they can do it. Too many people hear Jesus say "make disciples" and think that's for someone else—Seal Team Six Christians, people with a special calling. The priesthood of all believers is not a doctrine for a select few. When the ordinary believer catches that, it can be catalytic unto revival.

In the Wesleyan world, we sometimes think that if God sends awakening power, that takes care of everything. But the genius of the Wesleyan movement was that you had both: moments of visitation of the Holy Spirit wed with intentional movement around discipleship. We were mocked as being so methodological. "You're a bunch of method people—Methodists." But it wasn't about being methodical about potluck dinners. It was about being intentional around discipleship in classes, bands, and societies. When power and pattern are wed together, nations are transformed.

What is the hardest part about leaving the senior pastor role?

Missy and I have been steeped in deep community in a local church for over 40 years. That's not going to be true in this next chapter. It's itinerant ministry—on a different scale. And we grieve that. Even when God calls you to something good, because you love deeply, there is grief. Please pray for us.

We love being with people, serving with people. And God put us on a fast-forward here at Christ Church. We fell in love with the people quickly—very quickly and very deeply. I looked at Missy maybe six or eight months in and said, "Honey, it feels like we've been here 15 years." Those relationships have only deepened since. So yes, we grieve that. That's the honest answer.

What can you tell us about the senior pastor search?

We have a phenomenal senior pastor search team that has done remarkable—I'd say sophisticated—homework. And here's what I want the Christ Methodist family to hear to comfort them: in the Global Methodist Church, the pool is pure. Whoever God calls here, it is not going to be a whiplash.

When I share that we adopted articles of faith and they were overwhelmingly affirmed—400 delegates, 1,000 people in a room applauding—that's a symptom that we're all on the same page. The pastors who are being talked with and prayed with, who are considering coming to serve Christ Church, are of similar mind and heart. There is unity around what we believe, around our mission, and around multiplicative discipleship. That's the DNA being cultivated in the Global Methodist Church, and it's being cultivated in this congregation.

I would encourage the Christ Church family to remain prayerful. God has to touch somebody's heart and call them to this place—the same way He spoke to me. That's the kind of pastor you want: not just someone called into ministry in general, but someone God has specifically put His hand upon to come here. Keep going to war in prayer. And be comforted by the facts. Whoever comes is going to be a godly, Christ-centered, Scripture-teaching person who will serve you with vision for God's glory.

What do you want the people of Christ Methodist Church to hear from their senior pastor right now?

Keep your eyes on Jesus. Love Him. Set your affection upon Him. Prize Him, adore Him, worship Him.

Jesus says in John 6 something that's true not just for individuals but for the church: "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." If you keep God first, everything else has a way of falling into place. Stay in love with Jesus. Fight for your heart, and stay in love with Jesus. Everything else will follow.

Go back to December 23rd—your spiritual birthday, your early 20s. Could that young man have ever imagined where following Jesus would take him?

No. Not at all.

On December 23rd, the last thing I thought I would ever do or be was a pastor. When the call began to stir in my heart, I fought it. I remember standing on a tee box playing golf with my dad, wrestling with it in my mind. My dad had no idea. And I just blurted out, "You know what God really needs? God needs a fully devoted businessman." My dad looked at me like I was from another planet and said, "Hit the ball, son."

That transition came months later, with a lot of discernment and a lot of people telling me I was supposed to be a pastor—because I couldn't quit talking about Jesus. Someone asked me to share a testimony, and I didn't even know what a testimony was. I thought something criminal had happened. But I shared what Jesus had done in my life, and God used it. A 15-year-old came to Christ. And that kind of took me over the threshold.

If you could go back and sit with that young man, what would you tell him about the life Jesus was about to invite him into?

I would encourage him to grow in the understanding of the fear of the Lord—and not wait until he's 35.

I cared too much about what people thought in my early years, and it hurt people. When I started getting free of that and put my confidence in the gospel and the Word of God—and let the Word speak to people—things changed. I have nothing to give anybody. But the Word of God is living.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. The fear of the Lord is a fountain of light. Get set free from people-pleasing. Care about people, love people, honor people—but don't be driven by what they think. Honor the audience of One, and love people well.

That's what I wish I had known at 23.