Fed and Sent to be Risk-Takers

If at the font we start our journey, it is at the table that we are nourished and fed and enabled to continue our Christian walk with Christ, wherever that may lead us.  In his comments during the service today at the New Room, the presiding minister shared with us some words from the newly elected president of the Methodist Conference in Britain.  In her address, the president stated that the Church is at a tipping point and must make critical decisions about its direction, encouraging her hearers to be bold, to step outside their comfort zones, to take risks for the sake of the gospel.

The minister then reminded us of the example of Peter, who bravely stepped out of the boat and walked on the waves towards Jesus and of John Wesley, who, as he put it in his own journal, "submitted to be more vile" in turning to preaching out in the open despite his own discomfort with it. He never grew comfortable with it, but he did so because it bore fruit in reaching the least, the last, and the lost in a way that nothing else did.

As I knelt at this communion rail beneath John Wesley's historic pulpit, my eyes filled with tears as I thought of all the times I have bit my tongue or changed the subject because I didn't want to make someone uncomfortable or -- horror of horrors! -- didn't want to be accused of being divisive or political.  I held out my hand to receive the wafer and to dip it in the cup, and I prayed that these symbols of Christ's body and blood would indeed be to me the bread of heaven and the cup of salvation, giving me the courage to be more of a risk taker for Christ.

If I truly believe that the Bible is the guide to my faith and practice, I will let the Spirit fill me with holy boldness and will speak the truth in love.  I will answer the call to take risks, to be a voice for the voiceless, to speak for the poor and needy, for the sick and elderly, for the migrant and the mentally ill.  I will, in the words of Isaiah and of Christ, and yes, of John Wesley, bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, and let the oppressed go free.  I will put Christ above all -- before party and country, before family and friends.

Where in your community, your church, your workplace, and your home do you recognize places where you need to take risks, to reach out in love of God and neighbor, to get out of the comfortable cocoon you have made for yourself?  Where might you be called to stretch and grow and become more like Christ?  These are not idle questions for the Methodist Conference here in Britain, nor are they idle questions for any part of the Church today.  May you and I and all who call themselves followers of Christ pray earnestly to go where the Spirit takes us, even when that is uncomfortable or inconvenient.  May it be so!

At the Font, We Start our Journey

In the United Methodist hymnal, there is a lovely baptismal hymn that begins "At the font we start our journey, in the Easter faith baptized."  I may think that my sabbatical began last week, but the truth is, I've been traveling towards this moment in time for a good many years.

This is a picture of one side of the very large baptismal font at Salisbury Cathedral, and it is a quote from the prophet Isaiah, a beautiful promise from the God who goes with us through the waters and brings us out into a new land as a new people.

I was not baptized at this particular font or indeed at any font.  Having grown up Baptist, I was "dunked" all the way under at about age 12 in a large tank directly behind the stained glass window featuring symbols of each of the twelve disciples at Tabor City Baptist Church.  I remember it vividly, that feeling that something special and holy was happening to me.  And now as a United Methodist pastor, I sometimes hold babies in my arms, look into their infant eyes, and I tell them that God has called them by name and that they belong to Jesus.  I tell them and their parents and their church families that their journey of faith is beginning at the font where the waters of baptism are poured or sprinkled over their heads, as the Holy Spirit rests upon them as upon Jesus at his baptism.

My baptism has taken me to a number of places, including seminary, ordination, and now this opportunity of a lifetime.  This sabbatical journey has already taught me a few things.  My luggage was misplaced/lost/in outer space/in a black hole for SIX days at the start of this trip.  Six. Days.  Without clean clothes.  (Other than the few I always pack in my carry-on for just such an emergency.)  SIX DAYS!!!!!!  It was annoying, especially because it was hard to reach a live human being who actually knew where my stuff was, and it involved extra expense as we had to wash clothes and purchase some necessities, not knowing when our stuff would finally get to us.   When it FINALLY arrived, I was so excited.  It was like Christmas, opening the bag up and seeing what was inside.  But it occurred to me that John Wesley would have said, "Really?  You have too much, anyway!  Why aren't you living more simply? Why aren't you sharing more with those who really need it?"

I managed pretty well without all those things so carefully packed.  Honestly, I don't need the majority of those shirts, anyway.  It's more about fashion and comfort than strict necessity.  So I wonder what else I am needlessly carrying around.  Literal stuff like these clothes or even (gasp!) books?!  Feelings of guilt or relentless perfectionism or a sense of entitlement or, well, you fill in the blank.  How might this experience of re-visiting the sacred sites of the Wesleyan revival help me find peace for my soul and new excitement for my ministry?  How will this be an important way-station along the journey that started at the font so many years ago?

At the font we start our journey, in the Easter faith baptized...

Happy Father's Day, Mr. Wesley!

18 June 2017

Some thoughts on the end of Annual Conference, Father's Day,  and John Wesley's birthday

Due to changes in the calendar in England during Wesley's lifetime (I'm not going to explain in detail -- Google it if you're that interested), his birthday is both June 17 and 28. Either way, Wesley was born 314 years ago this month in 1703, and as I prepare to embark on my sabbatical, the timing seems right for another blog post.

You can't read it very well in this shot, but the inscription on the bottom of this statue of John Wesley in front of his chapel in London notes that it was erected with funds donated by "the children of Methodism."  John Wesley was not a father in the usual sense, but in the spiritual sense, he certainly was.  The Salvation Army, Nazarenes, Methodists, Wesleyans, and millions of others all around the world are all religious descendents of the diminutive man with the large and strangely warmed heart.

At Wesley's funeral, the man leading the prayers made a change in the customary liturgy.  Where the prayer speaks of "the death of our brother," he instead said "the death of our father, " which provoked more than a few tears from those present.   They felt a bit like spiritual orphans, bereft of their somewhat autocratic but always loving father in Christ.

Since I was just at Annual Conference, I was freshly reminded of the enduring heritage he left us.  It's not just that we sing the powerful hymns Charles Wesley wrote or the fact that we call our annual family reunion "conference," and it's not even the fact that Cokesbury sells JW bobbleheads.  It's that he and those early Methodist people showed in their lives an example of one really good way to follow Christ.  It's all about that grace, grace that not only saves us but saves us to the uttermost.  It's all about exemplifying holiness of heart and life and seeking to do all the good we can, to all the people we can, as long as ever we can.  It's all about the love of God in Christ and the witness of the Spirit that we are God's beloved children and our belief that this good news is for all people, everywhere.

So Happy Birthday, Mr. Wesley, and a very Happy Father's Day from your daughters and sons!  We'll try not to embarrass you or the Lord you love.

Home, Church, Life, Death, Love

On Trinity Sunday, I will be preaching at St. Paul United Methodist Church.  It's not really my home church, since I grew up Baptist, but these were the folks who supported my decision to attend Duke Divinity School, welcomed me into the pulpit multiple times, and cared for me and my family, especially my mother, while she was living/dying with pancreatic cancer.  So, in many of the ways that really matter, it is my home church.

This Sunday is also my daddy's birthday.  The above picture is 2 or 3 years old, taken by my daughter when Daddy and I were telling family stories at his brother's grave. Harvey died in the Battle of the Bulge, and later his body came home to lie in the family cemetery with countless other relatives. Whenever the last chapter of my life is written, I will be buried next to him with a spot on the other side for Scott. My request is that the inscription on my headstone be simply,  "She Offered Them Christ."  My deepest desire and hope is that my life and ministry will warrant those words.

I recently preached a sermon at First Prez called See How These Christians Love Each Other.  I suggested that our spiritual life is a journey of finding out how our own story is caught up in God's story and said that ultimately, it is a journey and story of love, love of God and love of our sisters and brothers.

This idea is rooted in Scripture, of course, one repeatedly articulated by John and Charles Wesley.  Just for fun, flip through the United Methodist hymnal and count how many times the word "heart" appears in Charles' hymns. Browse through John's journals and note how often he speaks of living a life of holiness in which the Holy Spirit transforms the Christian into a person filled with perfect love for God and neighbor.  Both Wesleys believed that it is possible, by the power of the Holy Spirit, for a woman or man to be made perfect in love in this lifetime, even though that might not happen until the moment of death, and they encouraged the people called Methodists to "go on to perfection."

Whether or not that terminology makes sense to you, I encourage you to look at your life in the light of Jesus Christ and see if you are becoming more like him, filled with love of God and others.  And reflect on these words written by John in A Plain Account of Christian Perfection:

God only requires of his adult children, that their hearts be truly purified, and that they offer him continually the wishes and vows that naturally spring from perfect love. For these desires, being the genuine fruits of love, are the most perfect prayers that can spring from it.

2 days after Pentecost

Where shall my wondering soul begin?
How shall I all to heaven aspire?
A slave redeemed from death and sin,
A brand plucked from eternal fire,
How shall I equal triumphs raise,                                      

Or sing my great Deliverer’s praise?

O how shall I the goodness tell,
Father, which Thou to me hast showed?
That I, a child of wrath and hell,
I should be called a child of God,
Should know, should feel my sins forgiven,
Blessed with this antepast of Heaven!

And shall I slight my Father’s love?
Or basely fear His gifts to own?
Unmindful of His favors prove?
Shall I, the hallowed cross to shun,
Refuse His righteousness to impart,
By hiding it within my heart?

 ~ Charles Wesley

                                stained glass window of Charles Wesley
                         Memorial Chapel, Lake Junaluska, North Carolina

It is believed that these are a few of the verses of the hymn Charles Wesley composed shortly after his "conversion" experience of May 21, 1738 when he truly felt that he was saved by faith in Christ alone, saying, "I believe, I believe!"  The language may seem quaint to us in the 21st century, but there is no doubt that Charles Wesley was inspired by the Holy Spirit to praise God for this gift of assurance of pardon for his sins and for the grace of this "antepast" or appetizer of the heavenly feast to come.

He was apparently reluctant to continue working on the hymn for a short time, thinking he might be exhibiting pride in setting his thoughts to paper. Fortunately, after praying and talking it over with Mr. Bray, a trusted Christian friend, he discerned that this fear was a "fiery dart" thrown at him by the devil (as he says in his journal), and he was able to feel joyful, knowing that he was honoring Christ with his words rather than seeking praise for himself and his gift of poetry.

Charles Wesley felt that sometimes we hold ourselves back from speaking or otherwise witnessing to the gospel because we are tempted by the Evil One to a sort of false humility that leads us to remain silent when we should express joy, praise, honor, and glory to God.  This made me stop and ponder my own life, and perhaps you might examine yours as well. When am I guilty of this kind of sin of omission?  Am I grieving the Holy Spirit by not being more attentive to opportunities to share God's grace with others in my everyday life?  How might I be more open to the Spirit's leading? 

As I embark on my sabbatical, my prayer is that God will open my heart and my eyes so that I may more fully walk as Christ walked and love as Christ loved, as I am wooed and transformed by the Spirit.  And that is my prayer for you, as well!

Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere

It's June 3, one day before Pentecost, and word has come of another apparent terrorist attack in London.  The past two weeks have seen violence in Manchester, Jakarta, Cairo, Kabul, and on and on goes the list.  The above image references a poem by Warsan Shire, in which she asks an atlas of the world where it hurts.  The response?  Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

Lord, have mercy on us poor sinners here who don't know what we do. We hate and hurt and tear at each other like ravening wolves.  Forgive us, restore us, heal us. And pour out your Spirit on us all, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.