Methodists

Methodist! A nickname? A reputation? A methodical people? There are two volumes of Standing Orders and Agendas to prove it – The Constitution and Discipline of the Methodist Church. (All good Methodists know all about it!) I can write about it but, happily, I have no longer to contend with it professionally. In fact I have forgotten most of it. To tell the truth, I never was an avid reader! (How did I survive?) Some people live happily with chaos. I have visited more than one minister’s study with the floor, desk and window ledge littered with books – all sorts of books, manifold sorts of papers, magazines – and they knew, amid the apparent disorder, where to find what they wanted. Somewhere there must be a Bible! It worked for them – genius?? Most of us like some order: we prefer the predictable, especially in church affairs. The cynics among us may be of the opinion that the purpose of our fixed agendas is to ensure that we do things in the way we have always done them. They may succeed in that but, you know, I think their true purpose is to ensure the items essential to our missionary task are there to guide us and keep us on the straight and narrow.

George Whitefield. See page for author [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

We call ourselves Methodist because John Wesley, George Whitefield, and other friends in their time at Oxford University were known to be most methodical in life and practice and, most of all, in their prescribed religious exercises. It WAS a nickname. That is it in a nutshell – a big subject well and truly documented, so that one wonders how many more books and PhD theses can be written about it. A fascinating study. The danger of being methodical and orderly is that we can stifle the Spirit of God at work among us. A great pity, because the story of the Book of Faith is about the unpredictable. The most surprising – that God should come to share our life in a child born to a lowly, embarrassed ordinary couple; not to a palace but to a dirty, unhygienic stable. Come to us in the form of a servant – Son of the God of surprises. In all our endeavours to be neat and tidy we have to remember that we are not an institution, we are the children of the Living God.

Where is the space in the agenda of our life, the agenda of the church, the agendas of the dull routine business meetings, to give God the chance to surprise us?

If only

John Wesley preaching, by William Hamilton [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

On Sunday Christians of all branches of the church make their eager way to their favourite church, there to be joined by some of their best friends in a congregation come to participate in an act of worship. They would not miss it. Over the years, Sunday by Sunday, it has meant so much to them. Recharging their batteries, some would say. And so they came expectant that they would have a good sing – favourite hymns known and loved that warmed the heart; prayers couched in concern and love. And perhaps more likely they came hoping to be challenged, inspired, to hear a sermon that was both a revelation and relevant to their personal circumstances and need. They were seldom disappointed, their minister was a marvellous preacher. He knew what to say and how to say it. He could send them home with their batteries charged, faith refreshed, fears and doubts removed, and pointed them to the next step on their Christian journey. That is what they liked about their minister, he was nicely sure, always positive, left them in no doubt of where he stood and where the Lord was leading.

All well and good but I suspect it not to be the whole story. I suspect there were days when some set off for home in a different frame of mind. When they went home from church thinking – it was a marvellous, informative and challenging message. Recalling the sermon, reluctantly and timorously they found themselves saying, I do not think I could subscribe to that statement. If only I could be sure! If only.

I can feel uncomfortable in the company of the eternal optimist for whom life always seems to be going well. We have them in church, vociferous rather than tactful. Good folk, faithful and devoted to doing the will of God, but a testimony spoilt somewhat in the impression given that unlike some of us they have direct access to God: a hotline to heaven with all the answers to personal dilemmas, doubts and fears. One suspects that what is given as personal testimony is sometimes no more than an expression of personal indulgence. In their presence the if only disciple is vulnerable and feels his/her faith is decreed not big enough. There are occasions when we have no right even to contemplate to speak for God. I have heard some appalling (maybe well-intentioned) comments made at the side of a hospital bed, or a home where tragedy has struck. I have had to bite my tongue and leave any discussion about the Providence of God to another and more appropriate time. The more encouraging testimony is that which listens, questions and who can say no more than if only. If only I could be sure! There is no reason to consider ourselves to be inferior believers; no need to be ashamed. We are in good company. Dr Leslie Weatherhead, one of last century’s pulpit giants, who in his day brought many people to faith, towards the end of his ministry caused quite a stir in certain Christian circles when he wrote a book that described the inner turmoil with which he had to contend for most of his life. He called the book Christian Agnostic. I do not know about you, but I can identify with him. I too have doubts and questions, times when I am agnostic about aspects of faith and believing.

How can we be sure about God? Maybe the high priests and prophets of new-age atheism have got something valid and authentic. If only – how can we be sure about God? It depends on what kind of assurance we want – if is logical proof or mathematical certainty we require, we are headed for disappointment. Studying for my preacher’s exams before being an accepted candidate for ordained ministry, I was introduced to what were known as Proofs for the existence of God. What were those proofs?

1. The world of nature pointed to God.
2. The moral order in the world directed our gaze to God.
3. People’s universal hunger for the supernatural provided evidence for the existence of God.

I cannot imagine being enlightened or converted by that kind of argument. Aids to our understanding God they may be, but they are by no means proof of his existence.

I have told the tale many times, and at least once on this blog, of John Wesley’s coming to an assurance, desperately wanted, yet sensing it could be denied him. Sailing home from Georgia an unsuccessful, distraught and unhappy clergyman, his ministry there a miserable failure and what faith remained in shreds, he was determined no longer to preach. How could he preach faith when he did not have it himself? On board ship as they headed home, Wesley became aware of a group of Moravian Christians. He was impressed by the way they lived the Christian life and practised the faith, and by their love and devotion to Christ. So much so, he resolved to seek help and counsel about his dilemma and spiritual crisis. It was the wise and saintly leader of the party who took John in hand. His counsel and encouragement to a broken man who yearned for faith and lost it: preach faith until you have faith. He did and I write this piece on the day 24^th May (1738) we commemorate Wesley’s renewal and restoring experience and testimony: I felt my heart was strangely warmed and that I did trust Christ alone for salvation.

How can I be sure of God in the bad times when it feels as though God has deserted us; days when we are heading away from his blessing and empowering grace? If only? It may not be a bad thing to conclude with Wesley – if only! Practise the life of faith until you have it. The proof we look for is in the living.

Friends

Friendship
Image by Tiago Ribiero via Wikimedia

It has been “that kind of day” – sometimes a happy time when things have gone well and there have been some surprises. We feel good, reminisce with a song, What a day it has been, What a rare mood I’m in, And I think I am falling in love! Although I suspect my blog reading friends may have fallen long ago! But you get the idea. More often than not, I imagine, it could be a different story. We’ve had a bad day, a miserable week. In spite of everything the preacher promises (or the blogger!) or how earnestly we try to hold on to our faith, “trust in the Lord and don’t despair” and all that, we cannot see the bright side. What a day – we all have them and I am no exception: pessimistic thoughts, irritating doubts, faith under threat and all too often behaving like there is no bright side. Forgive, if I appear to boast! It is not meant to be. It is testimony to what is known as Saving Grace that I continue to be who I am and what I am.

It would be dishonest to pretend I enjoyed every minute of my forty-one years of active ministry. I remember all too well a time around the “middle years’ crisis” when I had actually composed in my mind my resignation from the ministry. I was so fed-up for a spell with what I was doing, perhaps more accurate to say, with what I was not able to do. Praises be! My crisis moments chose not to last too long. When I turned my gaze away from inner self and focused on those loving people committed to my pastoral care, their faithfulness to church and Lord and their love for one another, allowing me to share their hopes and fears and showing me love and friendship, I could not walk away. Testing times, frustrating times, unhappy moments, but I have never regretted being “called and sent.” “My people” as much as anything else have kept me on “the straight and narrow.”

A saying to remember (quote on fridge magnet): A friend will joyfully sing with you at the mountain-top and silently walk beside you through the valley.

The evening before our departure from one of the four churches I was privileged to serve in the USA, albeit for six weeks only in each venue, we were presented with a small framed piece of cross-stitch which I have kept and cherished. On it, the stitched saying reads, Don’t forget – let this remind you – you left a lot of friends behind you. We did, not only in Kansas but in Michigan, Alabama and Nebraska, and the truth of it was to be confirmed in subsequent holiday visits to the friends we left behind. We were welcomed and treated like we were one of them, one of the family. Although separated by thousands of miles and unlikely to meet again, the friendships survive. The same might be said, even more emphatically, of my experience here at home. For over 40 years, moving from one appointment to another, we made countless friends and although many have gone to “a better place”, there are many homes into which we could go and know we will be received with love and affection, with whom we might spend a happy hour of intimate and warm fellowship. As Christian disciples we belong to a Church committed from early days to a ministry of hospitality. Friendship should be second-nature to us.

There is one Friend who complies more than any other, who matches completely the criteria of friendship. We used to sing Jesus friend of little children be a friend to me; Take my hand and ever keep me, close to Thee. Saint Paul assures us in his letter to the Church in Rome, “There is nothing in the whole of life that will separate us from the love of Christ.” What a friend we have in Jesus, Jesus the best friend, Jesus the friend of all. Jesus who said, “As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” (John 13; 34) And there is John Wesley’s oft quoted mantra, “I am the friend of all and the enemy of none.”

Friendships make lives brighter. . . . .

It hurts

I have never been so humiliated! Who hasn’t felt like that, sometime? How common the experience is, is reflected In the variety of ways we can describe our embarrassment – nonplussed; crestfallen; having to eat humble pie; looking foolish; feeling small; being red in the face! It can mean a loss of dignity – something we don’t much like – it hurts. When it is unwarranted it can be the cause of resentment.

St Paul by El Greco. (Photo credit: Wikimedia)

If it is of any comfort to us, albeit a crumb, we’re not alone. Some notable people have suffered the same fate. The Apostle Paul knew how to be abased; knew what it was to be humiliated. In his letter to the early Philippian church, he relates to his Christian friends a catalogue of deprivations he had to undergo in the course of his peripatetic ministry. He wasn’t bemoaning the fact as one who had learned to grin and bear it! He is saying – I know how to handle it. It is not human resolve alone that enables him to ride and conquer the storm:

I am able to face anything through him who gives me strength. Philippians 4: 13.

John Wesley, founder father of Methodism, knew humiliation too. He began his ministry in Savannah, Georgia, as a chaplain with the ambition to convert the native Indians. His time there was short-lived. He returned from his missionary assignment in America a failure and it might not be too much of an exaggeration to name him a broken man; certainly bewildered and unhappy having made a bit of a fool of himself in his pastoral dealings with a young female parishioner and without the slightest impact on the Native Indians. It was too much

Statue of John Wesley in Reynolds Square, Savannah, Georgia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

for him and he was ready to give in. What the world would have missed if Wesley had not met Peter Boehler, a Moravian pastor, on the journey home, who helped keep him on track, urged him to keep on preaching faith until faith found him. What the world might have missed if Mr. Wesley had not learned to be abased prior to the night of the 24^th May, 1738. It all happened for him that night and for those of us who follow in his succession. He recounts it in his Journal:

“I went very unwillingly to a meeting of a religious society. . .. someone was reading Luther’s Preface to the Epistle to the Romans. At about a quarter before nine I felt my heart strangely warm, I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation.”

Life can be tough for us sometimes. People have no right to make us look foolish – they do! Unkind words cut to the core; cynical actions wound deeply; we let ourselves down. There are times when through ignorance or folly we have ended with egg on our face. Times when great has been our fall through the failure of well-intentioned but immodest ambition. It hurts…..

Do not despair, there was no greater humiliation than that which Jesus was required to suffer – spat upon; beaten; treated like a criminal; nailed to a Cross. No wonder he asked the Father if there was no other way – and ALL for us.

A near miss

Salvation Army

It was young people’s day during my brief time in the Salvation Army when members of the young people’s section were invited to give their heart and dedicate their life to Jesus. Toward the end of the meeting the Young People’s Sergeant Major – the Leader in charge – made her appeal presenting us with the opportunity to start out on the road of discipleship. The journey would begin, she explained, by our being saved or, if we were already committed, to rededicate ourselves to the service of Jesus. She wanted us all to be saved by accepting Jesus as Lord and Saviour.

Salvationists were well accustomed to this kind of appeal. The worshipper who was challenged by the message and felt compelled to respond to this altar call would make their way to the front and as invited, kneel at the penitent form. They would arise, counselled, prayed over, their request confirmed – the process of salvation begun.

Back to young people’s day – the process a wee bit different. There was no altar or penitent form in the smaller hall in which we met. So, she was going to ask us to come to the front and kneel before the big drum, to declare publicly our intent. “Hands up those who haven’t been to the penitent form,” she asked. Slowly I raised my hand. “Put your hand down, John” I was instructed, “You have been saved!” That was it – am I saved or am I not? That is the question. What do I say to the enthusiast who might want to know, who asks, “Are you born again?”

That was it until . . . . . . . . .

John Wesley (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

One Sunday evening some years later, the minister was trying to educate the inattentive members of the youth fellowship in the traditions of Methodism. He was telling the story of the Kingswood colliers coming up from a shift underground hewing coal, to be confronted by the Reverend John Wesley preaching the good news – the gospel of grace. The picture is still vivid in my memory of those men, white channels marking their coal-dust faces where the tears flowed as they listened and opened their hearts to the Spirit of Jesus. How their lives were transformed, some of them converted into preachers, others to positions of influence at work and in the community at large, partners in the religious revival led by the Wesleys, a revival that helped give birth to Methodism. This late 18^th Century revival helped to turn the minds of the English people from thoughts of revolution, although not all historians agree.

The story told that Sunday evening of those responsive Kingswood colliers has had a lasting impact on one youth. From that moment, my conscience ceased to trouble me about missing out on that young people’s day when I was told . . .” put your hand down.”

Prayer: Lord, we thank you for our spiritual awakening, for those who pointed us to Christ, those in whose lives we caught a glimpse of Jesus. Thank you for Jesus, all he means to us; our hope for days to come. Amen.