Epworth

There are many things I could say about Epworth, and no doubt, I will.  But I thought I'd start with one of the first pictures I took when I arrived here on Thursday afternoon, July 13.  I was met at the station by Louise, the administrative assistant for the minister of Wesley Memorial Methodist Church here in Epworth, and her husband, John.  They graciously escorted me to the Red Lion, and after they left, I took a walk around the village.

The Red Lion is located very close to St Andrews, the parish church served by the Rev. Samuel Wesley from 1695 until his death in 1735.  In 1742, John returned to Epworth and offered to assist the curate, Mr. Romney, in the service.  This did not go well; however, he did stay to worship.  In his journal, he writes:

‘He did not care to accept my assistance. The church was exceeding full in the afternoon, a rumour being spread that I was to preach.

‘But the sermon on ‘Quench not the Spirit’ was not suitable to the expectation of many of the hearers. Mr. Romney told them one of the most dangerous ways of quenching the Spirit was by enthusiasm; and enlarged on the character of an enthusiast…’

It was clear to everyone that the dangerous "enthusiast" being referred to was of course, John Wesley himself.  And it was equally clear that he was not going to be allowed anywhere near the pulpit, the altar, or anywhere else on church property.  There was a place in the church yard, however, that he could use as a makeshift pulpit, a bit of land owned by the Wesley family, not the church.   Quite a large crowd gathered at six to hear him.  John writes:

‘I stood near the east end of the church, upon my father’s tomb stone and cried, ‘The kingdom of heaven is not meat and drink, but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.’

Given that momentous occasion in Wesley's life, you can imagine my excitement when I really looked at this picture after taking it.  You can see that despite the shadows that are beginning to fall as the afternoon wore on, the light of the sun has picked out Samuel's grave, and the top of it is shining.

I could not help chuckling.  It was almost as if John had jumped atop the stone and declared again that the Spirit of the Lord had anointed him to preach the good news and that the world indeed was his parish.  What a great way to begin my extended visit to this small but vibrant village, the cradle of Methodism!