Rev. Dr. Darryl Totty, the Greater Detroit District’s superintendent, reflects on the Michigan Conference’s district realignment and our ongoing ministry together through an unlikely lens — the determined ants in the cartoon “Tom and Jerry.”
DARRYL TOTTY
Superintendent, Greater Detroit District
“We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to [God’s] purpose” (Romans 8:28, NRSVUE).
On July 1, 2026, we began living into a significant new chapter in our shared ministry in the Michigan Conference. Seven districts became four, boundary lines changed, relationships shifted, and as clergy and laity, we found ourselves learning the names, stories, ministries, and communities of our new neighbors.
I am living through this transition, too. As superintendent of the Greater Detroit District, I am building new relationships, learning about new congregations, facing new challenges, and seeing new possibilities alongside the people I serve. Change is rarely easy. Not all of us entered this realignment with the same feelings. Some brought enthusiasm; others brought questions, concerns, anxiety, or grief over what was familiar. I understand those feelings because I am part of this journey, too.
Yet I am choosing to approach this season through a different lens, one shaped by Scripture, my own experiences, and, perhaps surprisingly, some determined little ants I remember from childhood.
I grew up in a bungalow in Conant Gardens on Detroit’s east side with my mother, father, and nine brothers and sisters. Growing up in a large family taught me cooperation, patience, and how to share. Those years gave me wonderful memories and helped shape my faith.
My father introduced my mother to Methodism, and together they helped create a home where faith and church were central to our lives. I remember learning Scripture in Vacation Bible School, where the Bible’s stories and promises began taking root in me. I remember watching my mother serve faithfully on the church’s Mission Committee. Long before I understood terms like “discipleship,” “connectionalism,” or “missional ministry,” I watched faith become action through people who believed that loving God also meant serving others.
My childhood was shaped by many influences. I grew up listening to Earth, Wind & Fire and sitting in front of the television, watching “Mister Ed,” “Green Acres,” “The Jeffersons,” “Gilligan’s Island,” “The Ed Sullivan Show,” and, of course, “Tom and Jerry.” Looking back, I realize I learned lessons from many places: my parents, Scripture, the church, and, every now and then, even a cartoon.
“Tom and Jerry” was especially memorable. Week after week, Tom and Jerry seemed locked in an endless struggle. There was always a chase, a new scheme, or an obstacle to overcome. But one image has stayed with me: the ants at the picnic.
While Tom and Jerry were caught up in their usual distractions, the ants had work to do. They discovered the picnic and set to work together. They did not act as individuals trying to prove which ant was strongest. They formed a line. They moved with purpose. They carried food far too large for any one of them to manage alone. One followed another, each doing its part, until something impossible for one became possible for many.
As a child, I thought it was funny to watch the picnic disappear. Today, I see more. Those ants understood something about community. No single ant had to carry the whole picnic. No single ant needed all the answers. No single ant had to be the hero. Their strength lay in working together toward a common purpose.
That image speaks to me differently now, as a superintendent living through our Michigan Conference’s realignment. In the Greater Detroit District, I am getting to know approximately 139 churches, their clergy and laity, histories, communities, gifts, dreams, ministries, and challenges.
At times, the responsibility can feel a little like standing before an entire picnic, wondering how in the world we are going to move all of this. Perhaps the ants would tell us: You do not move it alone.
You find your place. You bring what you have. You recognize the gifts of those beside you. You help carry what is too heavy for someone else, and you allow others to carry what is too heavy for you.
There is something profoundly connectional about that image.
As United Methodists, we were never meant to do ministry alone. Our congregations are connected. Clergy and laity are connected. Our districts and conference are connected. Our gifts, resources, prayers, ministries, and mission connect us. Connectionalism is more than an organizational structure. At its best, it reminds us that we belong to one another. When one congregation struggles, another may have resources to share. When one pastor grows weary, colleagues can come alongside. When one church discovers an effective ministry, others can learn from it. When challenges are too large for one congregation, we can face them together.
That is why Romans 8:28 speaks so powerfully to me: “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to [God’s] purpose.” Notice the words “work together.” This scripture does not promise that everything we experience will feel good. It does not say that change will always be comfortable or that faithful people will always agree. I hear something deeper: God remains at work amid uncertainty, transition, disagreement, and change.
We do not have to pretend that change is easy. We do not have to deny our questions or anxieties. But we also do not have to let them keep us from moving forward. We can work together. We can listen to one another. We can trust God. And together, we may discover that what seemed impossible begins to move.
The prophet Isaiah offers another word, “I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth; do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:19). I believe new things are springing forth among us. Ministry has not stopped as we reorganize; we continue to celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month and Laity Sunday. Congregations are participating in The Church Has Left the Building mission work, revivals, concerts, harvest festivals, and ministries that welcome children and youth back to church. We are preparing to honor MLK scholarships and Drum Major for Justice celebrations. We are walking alongside families facing the pain and uncertainty surrounding deportation. We are in church conference season. Advent is approaching, and clergy retirements and transitions are ahead. The Church is moving!
I think about Living Grace Ministry in Ann Arbor and the gifts and talents of young adults, which remind me of the possibilities in new church starts. I see congregations discovering new neighbors and ministry partners. I see clergy and laity faithfully serving as we all learn to navigate a changing denominational landscape. And I am learning, too.
Getting to know our new neighbors requires more than learning church names or recognizing locations on a district map. It requires listening, showing up, hearing stories, recognizing gifts, and honoring ministries that flourished long before district boundaries changed. This is an adaptive opportunity to become more collaborative, spiritual, radically hospitable, fully inclusive, faith-forward, missional, and resourceful. Yes, some of our work involves rules and processes. We are United Methodists, after all! But our structures must serve our mission, not become substitutes for it.
Ecclesiastes 4:9 reminds us, “Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their toil.” Again, I think about the ants. Recently, I saw a video on the WDIV Local 4 website in Detroit showing ants working together to carry a piece of bread. It was a simple image with a powerful message: Teamwork works. What one could never accomplish alone became possible when many worked together toward a common purpose.
It is understandable that anxiety about the future of The United Methodist Church and our Michigan Conference is among us. I do not know what the next few months or years will bring. I am walking into that future alongside you. People will come. People will go. Churches, leadership, and communities will change. Some ministries may conclude, while ministries we have not yet imagined will be born.
My hope is not ultimately rooted in district boundaries, organizational charts, budgets, buildings, appointments, or programs. These are important tools, but they are not the source of our hope. Our hope is in God.
Perhaps the invitation before all of us, including me, is simple: Find our place in the line. Bring our gifts. Welcome our new neighbors. Help carry what is too heavy for someone else. Receive help when the load becomes too heavy. Pray together. Dream together. Serve together. When the task seems larger than the resources available, remember those little ants. They did not spend all their time staring at the size of the picnic. They got in line and started moving it. May we do likewise, trusting that even when we cannot see the entire path ahead, God is already at work.
I believe God is still working. I believe God is still calling. And I believe that when we bring our gifts together and place our trust in God, things that once seemed impossible can move. That gives me hope for the journey ahead, and I hope it gives you hope, too.
The ministry of our district superintendents is made possible thanks to generous financial gifts from local United Methodist churches in Michigan through Ministry Shares. Thank you! Learn about the impact of Ministry Shares on mission and ministry in Michigan and around the world.
Last Updated on September 24, 2026