Highland Park's Timeline, Actually Explained

I really, really do not like modern online news. I can reasonably infer that anything longer than a Tweet is too hard, based on the reports on Highland Park's battle with the Conference.

Because I know the UMC, I also know when I am missing something.

Recently, I wrote about the numbers and what the separation of Highland Park from the United Methodist Church looks like. I said in that post that I didn't understand why Highland Park didn't disaffiliate during the 2022 to 2023 window. So, like a reasonable adult should, I went out to try and correct my ignorance. Today, I have a better understanding after far too much research. If you are tired of terrible half-hearted reports, please, keep reading.

I want to walk through the dates, because the dates are where the biggest disservice to this battle is. It has been told almost entirely wrong, or intentionally obscured. I'm looking at you, umnews.org.

Every news report I have read says roughly the same thing. In 2022 Highland Park rewrote its corporate papers without telling anyone, the Conference found out in 2025, and now they are in court. That is the Conference's version. The court file tells a different story, and so does a rulebook most people forget about, and reporters wouldn't open anyway: the 1996 Book of Discipline, which is the edition that was in force when Highland Park incorporated.

What follows is in order. I will do my best to keep each entry short. But, there is one thing I figured out that I believe explains a bit of the confusion about why Highland Park chose to stay despite 2553 and Texas' unusually easy pathways out.

The Land, 1922 to 1926

On June 28, 1922, Southern Methodist University deeded about three and a half acres at the corner of Mockingbird and Bishop to the trustees of Highland Park Methodist Episcopal Church, South. The deed says the trustees hold the land "in trust" as a place of worship for the ministry and membership of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, the denomination of the day, "subject to the discipline."

It adds a condition: if the land is ever used for anything other than religious or educational purposes connected with the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, "and its successor or successors," it "shall immediately revert to said grantor." The grantor is SMU.

Four years later, on November 30, 1926, SMU's trustees signed a quitclaim deed. They gave the Highland Park trustees, "their successors and assigns, forever," every interest SMU held in the land, and they bound SMU, its successors, and "any person or persons claiming under us" never to "claim or demand any right, or title" to it again. The reversion to SMU was gone. The deed says nothing about the Discipline or the denomination.

These two dates set the framework for something that was going to happen almost 100 years later to the day.

Why These Dates First?

During the disaffiliation process, churches were allowed to exit the denomination. However, Highland Park, under the 1922 deed, believed they could not leave because if they did, the land Highland Park Methodist Church is built on would revert to SMU. Even if the UMC would release Highland Park, that would not release them from the stipulations of the 1922 deed. Highland Park seemed to be in a precarious situation.

For everyone saying "Highland Park had their chance with 2553," we all need to stop. Highland Park wasn't aware of the 1926 quitclaim deed. As far as everyone knew during 2553, there was no quitclaim deed.

Reviewing Highland Park's October 11 town hall, a lawyer speaking for the church said SMU found the 1926 deed after the Conference filed suit in August 2026 and told the church about it. It turns out nobody knew, not even the bishop.

On August 11, 2026, the day after he sued, the bishop told Highland Park's clergy that the property belonged to SMU and would go back to SMU if the church left the denomination.

Now, that could have been some clever maneuvering on the bishop's part, but there's no way the bishop could've known Highland Park didn't know. And there's no reason Highland Park's leaders wouldn't have told the Bishop there if they knew.

Now, the Horizon Texas Conference is likely to say "That doesn't matter." Normally, they may be right. And of course they would say that; the leadership of the UMC bloviates all the time, whether or not they're wrong.

However, that's not everything. There were more complications that explain why Highland Park could not easily leave, even if the 1926 deed was known about. Keep reading.

The Book of Discipline, 1996

Part of the uphill battle the Horizon Texas Conference is going to have begins 30 years ago.

The General Conference is the only body that can officially speak for all United Methodists, and it meets (unless there's a global pandemic for leaders to exploit) every four years. Based on what happens at General Conference, the United Methodist Church then publishes the Book of Discipline that governs the church for the next four years until the next General Conference.

Its rule on incorporating a local church is Paragraph 2528.1. The charge conference may "direct the board of trustees to incorporate the local church, expressly subject, however, to the Discipline of The United Methodist Church and in accordance with the pertinent local laws." In later editions, this section is much more robust.

Keep this in mind; it will become important. Things will get a little complicated here before they get easier to understand.

The Corporation, 1998 to 2019

On December 7, 1998, Highland Park filed its Articles of Incorporation with the Texas Secretary of State. The church says the Conference, its bishop and its district superintendent took part and approved the papers. The Articles do three things that matter now:

• Article VI says the church supports UMC doctrine and operates under the Discipline, "except to the extent the organizational power and plans set forth therein have been modified by these Articles and the Bylaws of the Corporation in accordance with Paragraph 249.2."
• Article XV says the Articles may be amended, repealed or replaced by two-thirds of the Church Council, with notice. Nobody else is mentioned.
• Article XIV says that if the church is ever dissolved or discontinued, its property goes to the North Texas Conference in trust.

Paragraph 249.2 in 1996 said a charge conference could "modify the organizational plans" with the district superintendent's approval, and the district superintendent gave it per Article VI. Highland Park, from the Methodist standpoint, was in good working order, as the North Texas Conference approved them.

On January 1, 1999, the Church Council adopted bylaws. Section 3.1 made the Council members the charge conference. But interestingly, Section 10.1 let the Council amend the bylaws by a two-thirds vote. The North Texas Conference, again, did not object.

Things were quiet for two decades, but then, on February 25, 2019, the Council adopted a new set of bylaws in full, under the same two-thirds rule approved in 1999. Once again, the Conference did not object.

The Schism, 2019 to 2023

The next day, on February 26, 2019, the special General Conference in St. Louis adopted the Traditional Plan, 438 to 384, and created Paragraph 2553, the exit door. The exit window afforded by 2553 would close automatically on December 31, 2023. A lot of this is old news to most Methodist readers, but many journalists covering the story, I've found, generally don't dig enough into the timeline.

In November 2019, SMU's trustees voted to amend the university's articles and remove the United Methodist Church's control of the university. Bishop Scott Jones cast the only no.

The denomination's South Central Jurisdictional Conference sued SMU a month later in December. The battle went on until February 8, 2021, when a Dallas judge ruled in favor of SMU, stating there was no trust over SMU's property.

Now, on June 27, 2022, someone ordered a certified copy of the 1922 deed from SMU to Highland Park out of the Dallas County records. I know the date because that copy, clerk's stamp and all, is Exhibit B to the Conference's lawsuit. What I can't say is who ordered it, which remains a bit of a mystery, but the timing is not a coincidence.

The next day, on June 28, 2022, the North Texas Conference adopted its disaffiliation rules.

My suspicion is that the late North Texas Conference, knowing a slew of disaffiliations were about to unload on them, checked into the details of the largest churches in the Conference. Highland Park was nearly two and a half times the size of the next largest in the Conference. That's why they looked into the 1922 deed, going back as far as they could. The bean counters at the Conference may have just wanted to know how bad things could get.

On November 16, 2022, the 21 members of Highland Park's Church Council in attendance voted unanimously to adopt new Articles and bylaws, to change the corporate name to Highland Park Methodist Church, and to keep doing business as Highland Park United Methodist Church. The new Articles were filed with the state five days later. The Council's resolution said the church had no dispute with the Conference and was following SMU's example to bring its papers in line with Texas law.

On January 3, 2023, the church's finance executive emailed the district office. This would be Bishop Ruben Saenz's office, as he became bishop two days before when Bishop Michael McKee retired to become the interim dean of Perkins School of Theology at SMU. The subject line is "Name Change."

Changing the name of a United Methodist Church was and still is a common practice, because the United Methodist name carries an absurd amount of baggage and reputation. It may come as a surprise to lifelong United Methodists, but the UMC does not have a good reputation among other denominations. Traditional denominations found the UMC far too progressive, and progressive denominations felt there was too much traditionalism.

The myth of the happy middle does not apply here: we lacked identity and conviction, and moreover, order.

Continuing, the January 3, 2023 email said the General Council on Finance and Administration told the church that the change "has to come from" the Conference. The church attached the new Articles to the email, with every mention of the Book of Discipline, the Conference, and the charge conference removed.

On January 20, 2023, the GCFA, the denomination's finance and legal agency, certified in writing that "Highland Park Methodist Church d/b/a Highland Park United Methodist Church" was included in the UMC's group tax exemption. The GCFA had the 2022 Articles in hand, knew they were very different from the 1998 Articles, and approved the name change anyway.

Paragraph 2553 was still open for 11 more months, and Highland Park did not use it. I suspect the reason was the denomination's appeal against SMU as much as logistics.

An Aside for Logistics

During my last article, I did not realize Highland Park is effectively land-locked by Southern Methodist University. There is a parking lot, yes, but it might be the size of a drug store's. Consider the membership and attendance totals of Highland Park: over 15,000 members. SMU graciously shares its parking lot.

I did not appreciate, at the time, the symbiotic relationship between Highland Park and SMU.

If Highland Park were to get on the wrong side of SMU or the denomination, it would have been a serious problem for the church. And with the two in battle with each other, Highland Park leadership may not have known which way to go to maintain the mission of the church. If Highland Park remained UMC while SMU left, there could be problems. If Highland Park left the UMC and SMU were to lose the appeal, that could cause problems, also.

Highland Park was wise to wait. On July 26, 2023, the Dallas Court of Appeals mostly reversed the SMU ruling. The denomination's case against SMU was alive again, and nobody knew whether SMU or the United Methodist Church would end up controlling the university.

On December 31, 2023, Paragraph 2553 expired. Highland Park was still United Methodist.

And through all of it, nobody on either side knew the 1926 quitclaim deed existed.

The Quiet Years, 2024 to 2025

Things were relatively quiet between Highland Park and the Conference, even though there were significant international problems. On February 20, 2024, the Council adopted new bylaws, using the same uncontested two-thirds rule as it had used before.

The General Conference in Charlotte removed the bans on gay clergy and same-sex weddings in May of 2024, and in June, senior minister Paul Rasmussen told the congregation Highland Park would not host same-sex weddings on its campus, that its clergy could officiate elsewhere, and that LGBTQ members could serve in leadership "all the way to the highest level." He called the removal of the "incompatible" language "a very, very good thing."

Being a very traditional Christian, I disagree with Pastor Rasmussen. However, I can in some small measure understand the pressure he was under to thread a needle for the sake of the very large mission God put him in charge of.

The Conference was rather friendly to Highland Park during this time, it appears. However, things on the ground were changing because the disaffiliations, as I stated in my previous article, had decimated the United Methodists in Texas as a whole. On January 1, 2025, the North Texas Conference merged into the new Horizon Texas Conference, with Bishop Ruben Saenz Jr. as its bishop.

As stated above, Bishop Saenz had already been the bishop over Highland Park as North Texas' bishop, but the Council of Bishops appointed Saenz over the whole of this newly merged Conference.

Moving on, on June 27, 2025, the Texas Supreme Court ruled in the SMU case. A court can enforce a specific promise written in a corporation's articles, but it will not interpret church doctrine. The court did not decide who controls SMU. It let the denomination's suit go forward and sent it back to Dallas.

Then, for some unknown reason, in October 2025, the new Horizon Texas Conference asked Highland Park for its bylaws, read them, and objected to the 2022 changes for the first time. I would love to know why, because two years and nine months had passed since it received the new Articles. The denomination's finance agency had certified the church twice, and the Conference had taken its apportionments every month.

From October 2025 to March 2026, there were three meetings between the Conference and Highland Park. The Conference says lawyers for both sides drafted new Articles and bylaws together, and that Highland Park's Church Council rejected the drafts without discussion. Highland Park, on the other hand, says nobody from the Conference contacted it about the bylaws after early March.

On March 18, 2026, SMU and the Jurisdictional Conference settled. SMU filed amended articles that keep its relationship with the United Methodist Church. Bishop Saenz and other United Methodist clergy keep seats on SMU's board, but the denomination did not get operating control of the university back, and the lawsuit was dismissed. Rev. Paul Rasmussen sat on that board through the whole fight.

The War of 2026

On February 2, 2026, Matt Tuggle became senior minister after Rasmussen stepped down following a Parkinson's diagnosis.

On July 20, 2026, the bishop's office notified Tuggle that a formal complaint had been filed against him under church law. That was the first contact with the bishop since his appointment, which to me is very odd given the responsibility Tuggle was being given: overseeing the now largest United Methodist church in the country.

On August 6, 2026, the church asked the bishop for any changes he wanted to the documents. He set a meeting for August 10, but on the day, a few hours before that meeting began, the Horizon Texas Conference filed suit in Dallas County. The bishop held the meeting without mentioning the lawsuit, which he certainly knew had been filed. I was a United Methodist pastor long enough to know how a bishop's office works, and I cannot think of a reading of that sequence that is flattering.

On October 11, 2026, Highland Park held a town hall for its members. Rev. Chip Robertson, a lawyer speaking for the church (and former Missouri Supreme Court chief justice), put the 1926 deed on the screen and said that "SMU, after the bishop filed this lawsuit against us, found a deed that they told us about." The deed has since been added to the church's title insurance policy. Robertson credited Mark Craig with working out why SMU let the land go: once the church's new sanctuary opened, SMU no longer worried that the little wooden church on its corner would never grow. "So the land issue is off the table," Robertson said.

On October 15, 2026, the Conference filed its Second Amended Petition. It added a breach-of-contract claim and asked for money damages. It attached the 1922 deed, the 1926 quitclaim, the 1998 Articles and the 1999 bylaws, and it quoted Paragraph 2529 of the Book of Discipline, which says a church's articles and bylaws must be approved in writing by the pastor and the district superintendent.

Two months after the bishop told the clergy the land would go back to SMU, his own lawyers filed the deed that says it won't. There's a slice of humble pie there. But, the Conference still has the Book of Discipline, right?

Here is where the 1996 book I told you to keep in mind comes back. The 1996 Book of Discipline had no such requirement. The 2016 edition, which was the book in force in 2022, does, so the Conference is not making it up. But the 1998 Articles were written and approved by the Conference under a Discipline that had no such rule, and they say the Council can amend them by a two-thirds vote. The Conference's argument is that a rule written years later rides into a 1998 contract on the Articles' phrase "as the same may be amended from time to time."

Highland Park's answer has two parts.

The first is that the Articles and the bylaws say two-thirds of the Council and nothing more, and the Council voted unanimously.

The second is that the paper the Conference needs the judge to consult, the Book of Discipline, is one the Texas courts have said they will not interpret, and the Texas Supreme Court said so specifically in the SMU case, Southern Methodist University v. South Central Jurisdictional Conference, 716 S.W.3d 475 (Tex. 2025).

There's some amazing providence here. Rev. Paul Rasmussen, Highland Park's senior minister when the bylaws changed, sat on SMU's board when SMU rewrote its articles in 2019 and when a Dallas judge upheld them in 2021. Highland Park's Council resolution in November 2022 said in so many words that it was following SMU's example. Rasmussen was still on that board when the Texas Supreme Court ruled in 2025 and when SMU settled in 2026. The court held that a judge may enforce the specific terms of a corporation's documents but may not decide whether a church has complied with its denomination's rules.

In essence, Highland Park's lawyers turned the Conference's record against it. It's a situation that could only have happened given Highland Park's unique position in relation to SMU. And since the settlement with SMU, the Horizon Texas Conference and the Bishop have very little power over SMU's board anymore, so parking is no longer a live issue.

As it stands, Highland Park's argument is a good argument, and the Conference's petition concedes that two of its own questions, whether Highland Park is still a United Methodist church and whether its members are still United Methodists, "cannot be determined by applying neutral principles of law."

For the sake of thoroughness, Highland Park also cited a 2025 San Antonio appeals ruling in a Rio Texas Conference case, now before the Supreme Court, that the Discipline itself "cannot be reviewed for compliance" by a civil court.

Gratitude

These are the facts:

• The Conference raised no objection to the 2022 changes for almost three years.
• The Conference and the denomination affirmed in writing, twice, that Highland Park remained a United Methodist congregation under its new name.
• Highland Park launched 41 United Methodist churches over the years.
• It took over two congregations the Conference had declared dying and gave one of them, Munger Place, back to the Conference in 2024 with a full sanctuary and money in the bank.
• It ran the largest youth confirmation program in the Conference.
• The Conference accepted every monthly apportionment, which was $13 million over ten years.
• It gave an additional $17 million for United Methodist causes beyond apportionments.
• It gave more than $34 million to non-Methodist charities during that same period.

For those keeping track, that's over $60 million in ten years. I'm not sure of the exact word I'm looking for, but if there's a word that goes beyond ungrateful, email it to the Bishop and the Horizon Texas Conference.

The rest I've covered fairly well in my other post, but to remind you, 4,775 of Highland Park's members voted by over 90% to leave the denomination.

On October 29, 2026, Bishop Saenz issued an "ecclesiastical determination" that the vote changed nothing, reassigned Tuggle and Rasmussen, and appointed his chief of staff, Rev. Andy Lewis, as pastor of Highland Park. Lewis will begin preaching at University Park United Methodist Church because Highland Park is still operating, presumably to tens and tens of people.

The Bishop can declare all he wants, but Highland Park appears to be the one holding all the cards. This is not like other cases across the country. Bishop Saenz's actions here look like a high-capacity estoppel generator, changing as often as the wind, and in many cases he is often playing catch-up.

The trial is set for October 12, 2027. I'll be paying attention.

TLDR

Everything is in the court file or on the two sides' websites, and anyone with an afternoon can read it.

Highland Park did not sneak out the back door in 2022; it continued to pay millions. It stayed through the Paragraph 2553 debacle because of a unique problem with its deed that no one knew was resolved.

Its leaders read a 1922 deed and believed the campus would go back to SMU if they left. The 1926 deed that made that fear groundless sat in the county records the whole time, but the Conference didn't know about it either.

The church sits on three and a half acres with a parking lot that holds a few dozen cars. It borrows SMU's garages every Sunday. Its senior minister sat on SMU's board. And SMU was in court with the denomination the entire time the window was open. SMU won in 2021, lost in 2023, got a mixed ruling in 2025, and did not settle until 2026. Nobody at Highland Park could know which side it would need to be on when the dust settled, but that barrier is now gone.

Admittedly, a few parts of this are conjecture on my part. I do not sit on Highland Park's board or have access to any of their meetings.

But, some of my musings are just following the dots.

The Conference did not discover anything in 2025. It was told in January 2023, in writing, with the deletions listed on the first page. It passed the papers to the denomination, which certified the church under its new name twice. It cashed the apportionment checks every month. Then, two years and nine months later, the Conference gets to pretend like it is the injured party, despite the damage the Conference did to not only the churches of Texas, the missional giving of Highland Park, but also the reputation of Jesus Christ.

So here is where it stands. On Sunday, Highland Park will worship at 3300 Mockingbird as it has since 1917, under pastors Bishop Ruben Saenz appointed and praised until he suddenly didn't anymore. His former chief of staff will hold a service elsewhere, and the Bishop will call that the real Highland Park.

The judge will not hear the case for another year.