"Let it be ratified in heaven"

(photo at left of the Covenant Prayer, Wesley Memorial Church, Oxford)

Small, hard-working, and energetic, John Wesley was a lot like a bee; he selectively sampled different theological "flowers" to extract the best nectar which he then combined to produce his own brand of golden theological honey. (If anyone reading this is an expert on beekeeping, please excuse any errors in apiculture and just go with my metaphor. Likewise, if you are of a different theological bent, if you think Wesley's efforts were pure dross, keep that to yourself.)

In 1753, as one of the volumes of his Christian Library, Wesley re-published Richard Alleine's Vindiciae Pietatis, aka A Vindication of Godliness in the Greater Strictness and Spirituality of It. Alleine was a Puritan whose Vindiciae was first published in 1660 without the permission of the archbishop which therefore led to it being ordered destroyed or "bisked" with a brush liberally dipped in ink.  Needless to say, this censorship would have insured its popularity even if it had not been a book of great spiritual power, as did Wesley's re-publication of it and his appropriation of Alleine's Covenant Prayer for his renewal services.  On Monday, August 11, 1755, Wesley used one chapter of Alleine's book during what appears to have been the first celebration of the Covenant Service at a chapel in Spitalfields, London.

Finding great meaning in the service, Wesley celebrated it almost everywhere he traveled, necessarily meaning that its observance fell at different times of the year. In London, however, these services were usually held on New Year's Day since the holiday occurred during the time when Wesley was nearly always in residence there.  These came to be known as Watch Night Services, typically lasting three or more hours with scripture and singing interspersed, marking a commitment to deeper faith during the coming year by means of prayer and repentance. Wesley's spiritual descendants continue to celebrate these Watch Night/Covenant Services, especially in the UK, while his adaptation of Alleine's Covenant Prayer is perhaps more widely used for personal devotions in the US as in Steven Manskar's A Disciple's Journal.

The order for the Covenant Service in the United Methodist Book of Worship utilizes the words of Wesley's original liturgy, slightly updated, and calls upon worshipers to commit themselves to Christ as his servants, recognizing that some types of service are "more easy and honorable" while others are "more difficult and disgraceful."  Because, Wesley says, sometimes we can only please Christ by denying ourselves, we will find that some of those services are "suitable to our inclinations and interests" and that "others are contrary to both."  Uncompromisingly, Wesley states that "Christ will have no servants except by consent; Christ will not accept anything except full consent to all that he requires.  Christ will be all in all, or he will be nothing."

The traditional form of the prayer that has come to be known as the Covenant Prayer in the Wesleyan Tradition is as follows:

I am no longer my own, but thine.
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,
exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.
And now, O glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
thou art mine, and I am thine.
So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
let it be ratified in heaven.
Amen.

At this time of year, maybe you are accustomed to making some sort of resolution to lose weight, stop smoking, start exercising, or spend less time on your smartphone.  That's not a bad start; however,  this year, I invite you to spend some time deep in meditation and prayer, asking yourself how you can give more of yourself to Christ.  What might you need to give up/deny yourself in order to follow him more nearly?  What might you need to begin to practice as a way of being formed more in his image of holiness?  Praying the Covenant Prayer is a part of my daily devotional life at least once a day, and while I am by no means as holy as I one day hope to be by the power of the Holy Spirit, I believe that its words are making a home within my heart, guiding me to examine my inner and outer life more closely as I recommit myself to the Christ whose birth we now celebrate and whose walk we claim to emulate.  Will you do the same?

"O Holy Child, Still Let Thy Birth Bring Peace ..."

It's the second day of Christmastide, and for many people, things have gone back to the way they were before.  There is work to be done, wrapping paper to be recycled, dishes to be washed, and so forth.  The radio stations have stopped playing their version of Christmas tunes 24/7, and for most of the world, the holiday is over.  Yet the Church has seen this holy time differently for centuries, celebrating the nativity of Christ for 12 or 13 days (depending on how you count.)  December 25 rolls around every year, marking the day the Western Church calls to mind the birth of Jesus, but what difference does it really make in our daily lives?  Many great thinkers have pondered that question, including the 13th century German mystic and theologian Meister Eckhart.  Using birth imagery he reflected: 

We are all meant to be mothers of God. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place unceasingly, but does not take place within myself? And, what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace if I am not also full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to his Son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then, is the fullness of time: When the Son of Man is begotten in us. 

You already know that Charles Wesley crafted dozens of hymns expressing the wonder of the incarnation, the mystery of the virgin birth, and the change wrought in the human heart as a result, so it comes as no surprise that I am showcasing another one. In this particular hymn, like Eckhart, he calls for God to appear in him -- "In my weak sinful flesh appear, O God, be manifested here."  Wesley rejoices that in Jesus Christ the divine and the human are joined so that we, too might be one with God, crying out for the Word to be incarnate in him, in his flesh, in his heart.  Charles Wesley paints no sentimental picture of the sweetly sleeping infant; he instead creates a theological act of praise that seeks nothing less than the very fullness of God to come to him and to all people because of that child's life and eventual death and resurrection.  

He concludes his hymn with a plea for Christ to come quickly so that he can be a true witness to the Lord, made holy and perfect in love, in order that he may cry aloud with joy,  'Come in my flesh is Christ, the Word, And I can sin no more!'  And so my Christmas prayer for you is that your post-Christmas Day life is not simply a return to the same old, same old.  I hope that you may be so filled with longing for the life divine to enter into your heart that Christ will be born there again and again.  I pray that you, too will be a witness to the Lord whose kingdom is set up in our hearts, bringing peace to all people upon the earth.  This is what it is to be filled with grace, even as Mary was filled with grace.  This is what it is to be filled with the fullness of the life of Christ.  This is the gift of Christmas.

All-wise, all-good, Almighty Lord,

Jesus, by highest heaven ador’d,
Ere time its course began,
How did thy glorious mercy stoop
To take the fallen nature up,
When thou thyself wert man?

Th’ eternal God from heav’n came down,
The King of Glory dropp’d his crown,
And veil’d his majesty,
Empty’d of all but love he came;
Jesus, I call thee by the name
Thy pity bore for me.

O holy child, still let thy birth
Bring peace to us poor worms on earth,
And praise to God on high!
Come, thou who didst my flesh assume,
Now to the abject sinner come,
And in a manger lie.

Didst thou not in thy person join
The natures human and divine,
That God and man might be
Henceforth inseparably one?
Haste then, and make thy nature known
Incarnated in me.

In my weak sinful flesh appear,
O God, be manifested here,
Peace, righteousness, and joy,
Thy kingdom, Lord, set up within
My faithful heart, and all my sin,
The devil’s works destroy.

I long thy coming to confess
The mystic power of godliness,
The life divine to prove,
The fulness of thy life to know,
Redeem’d from all my sins below,
And perfected in love.

O Christ, my hope, make known in me
The great, the glorious mystery,
The hidden life impart:
Come, thou desire of nations, come,
Form’d in a spotless virgin’s womb,
A pure believing heart.

Come quickly, dearest Lord, that I
May own, tho’ antichrist deny,
Thy incarnation’s power,
May cry, a witness to my Lord,
“Come in my flesh is Christ, the Word,
And I can sin no more!” ~ Charles Wesley

"And the Word became flesh"

And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth. (John 1: 14)

When I was a child, I remember hearing -- and saying -- "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."  The intent behind the expression is to toughen us up, to keep our feelings from being hurt whenever someone calls us a name or says something unkind, but the truth is, words CAN hurt, and words matter far more than we'd sometimes like to admit.

The biblical writers knew how important words are and refrained from speaking or writing the "Tetragrammaton," the 4 letter name of God, in order not to commit blasphemy, and in the gospel of John, we are reminded that everything that has come into being was created by the Word of God; as John Wesley writes in his Notes on John 1, "the Word by whom the Father speaking, makes all things." This means that creation itself is an oral act, and moreover, the very same Word that spoke the world into being has entered into human existence, taking on our frail human flesh, or as Wesley so beautifully says, "tabernacled among us."

And just as the tabernacle in the Old Testament was an easily movable tent where God's glorious presence dwelt among the Israelites as they wandered in the wilderness, so too did Jesus pitch his tent of flesh to live awhile among us,"displaying his glory in a more eminent manner, than even of old in the tabernacle of Moses." In wonder and in a spirit of praise, Wesley writes in his notes on John 1: 14 that human beings are by nature "liars and children of wrath, to whom both grace and truth are unknown," yet we partake of them "when we are accepted through the Beloved."  He goes on to say that this verse might be paraphrased in this way:

And in order to raise us to this dignity and happiness, the eternal Word, by a most amazing condescension, was made flesh, united himself to our miserable nature, with all its innocent infirmities. And he did not make us a transient visit, but tabernacled among us on earth, displaying his glory in a more eminent manner, than even of old in the tabernacle of Moses. And we who are now recording these things beheld his glory with so strict an attention, that we can testify, it was in every respect such a glory as became the only begotten of the Father ....  In all he appeared full of grace and truth ... and really exhibited the most substantial blessings, whereas that was but a shadow of good things to come.

Wesley's reflections upon the richness of this one verse in John's gospel shine a light onto the extent of God's love for us as displayed in the Incarnation.  The Word took on flesh and became completely human in order to bless us richly, yet even these wonderful earthly blessings are "but a shadow of good things to come."  What lengths our Lord goes to in order to be in relationship with us, to reorder our lives and remold us by the Spirit into the daughters and sons of God we were created to be!  How much we are loved and cherished and valued by the One who stopped at nothing so that we might be reconciled to each other!  And so, with John Wesley and with Charles Wesley and all the company of heaven, let us join in this exultant hymn of Advent hope and yearning for his return in glory --

Yea, Amen! let all adore Thee,
High on Thine eternal throne;
Savior, take the power and glory,
Claim the kingdom for Thine own;
Come, Lord Jesus!
Come, Lord Jesus!
Come, Lord Jesus!
Everlasting God, come down!

Interruption, Incarnation

image found at https://www.passionistnuns.org/passionist-calendar/2018/5/31/feast-of-the-visitation-of-mary-to-elizabeth

Whence is it that my Lord
    Himself should visit me,
Should stoop to such a wretch abhorr'd,
    And claim my misery?
    He leaves His throne above
    For His own mercy sake,
He comes constrain'd by pitying love,
    And doth my nature take.

    The mystery of Thy grace
    What angel can conceive?
Thou wouldst to all our ransom'd race
    Faith and salvation give,
    Thou dost the grace reveal,
    Thou dost the faith impart,
And thus Thou com'st again to dwell
    For ever in my heart. ~ Charles Wesley

We are deep in the season of Advent, and we have once again read the story of the Angel Gabriel's appearance to Zechariah with an unexpected birth announcement for him and Elizabeth, and we have heard again the Virgin Mary's "yes" to God's interruption by way of incarnation into her life and body. Only Luke tells us this particular story that places two seemingly ordinary women at the very center of salvation history.  Again and again in his gospel, Luke, himself an outsider, seeks to draw our attention to the oft-overlooked participants in the drama -- to women, to the poor, to the stranger.

In this icon and in the hymn we see the juxtaposition of the joy at Elizabeth's surprising conception with the exultation at Mary's even more astounding news of her own pregnancy.  The two women hold each other tenderly as their unborn infants shift, as John the forerunner salutes his greater cousin Jesus by literally leaping for joy. Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, greets Mary by asking in wonderment why the mother of her Lord is coming to her, honoring Mary (and perhaps herself) for trusting that the promise spoken by God would indeed be fulfilled, while Mary responds with a song praising God for what may seem "upside down" reasons. But this is of course, an upside down kind of God who trades immortality for mortality, stooping down, becoming flesh like us so that we might be filled with all the fullness of God.  The Christ who interrupted his own life above interrupts the cycle of sin and death below by becoming incarnate in the lives of those whose lives he enters into.

Interestingly, in Charles Wesley's hymn, he takes upon himself the role of Elizabeth AND of Mary and invites us to do the same.  In the first verse, he shifts Elizabeth's words of salutation to Mary into a cry of bewildered joy that the Incarnate Lord has set aside the grandeur of heaven to embrace human nature and flesh, while the second verse is a reverie that calls to mind Luke's later words about Mary pondering all these things in her heart.  The coming of the One who lifts up the lowly and fills the hungry with good things is a mystery beyond the eloquence of angels, and his advent is not simply a never-to-be-repeated virginal conception but an ongoing gift of grace as he makes his home in the hearts of all who accept his offer of salvation and faith. His coming not only interrupts the predictable, ordinary life that Mary probably expected for herself; his coming also interrupts the dominance of sin in the life of the world and breaks its power forever.

These are themes that Charles Wesley returns to repeatedly.  He cannot exhaust the praise of a God whose nature and name are Love; if he had one thousand tongues and as many years, he could not begin to describe the grace of such a gift.   But in his attempts to sound the depths of this divine grace, he continues to give us words to sing and pray as we celebrate the coming of the Lord, this Jesus who dwells forever in our hearts.

"Light of Those Whose Dreary Dwelling"

Charles Wesley preaching

Through the tender mercy of our God; whereby the Dayspring from on high hath visited us, to give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.  (Luke 1: 78-79, KJV)

This past Sunday was the second Sunday of  Advent, and my sermon focused on the Song of Zechariah in the first chapter of Luke, drawing on Malachi 3: 1-4 as an appetizer for the "Brood of Vipers" sermon sure to come next Sunday when John the Baptist really gets going as the warm-up act for Jesus. These two verses mark the culmination of Zechariah's exclamation of joy at seeing the hope of Israel finally being fulfilled with the imminent coming of the Messiah.  We share his yearning and excitement because like Elizabeth and Zechariah and all those who had been waiting for so long, we sometimes feel like things will never get any better.  Like them, we dwell in the land of darkness and in the shadow of death, and like them, without the advent of that Dayspring from on high, we cannot see a way out.

This hymn from Charles Wesley takes much of its inspiration from these verses in Luke 1.  In the first stanza, he longingly calls for the Light to come and dispel the clouds and to give sight to those who cannot see. In the second, he pleads for the Savior to come and shed grace on everyone everywhere, while the third rounds out the hymn with its yearning for salvation from the "pacific Prince,"  trusting that he will come to release every burdened soul while guiding us into God's perfect peace. 

Light of those whose dreary dwelling
     Borders on the shades of death, 
Come, and by Thy love's revealing 
     Dissipate the clouds beneath: 
The new heaven and earth's Creator, 
     In our deepest darkness rise, 
Scattering all the night of nature, 
     Pouring eyesight on our eyes.

Still we wait for Thy appearing, 
     Life and joy Thy beams impart, 
Chasing all our fears, and cheering 
     Every poor benighted heart: 
Come and manifest the favour 
     God hath for our ransom'd race; 
Come, Thou universal Saviour, 
     Come, and bring the gospel grace.

Save us in Thy great compassion,
     O Thou mild pacific Prince, 
Give the knowledge of salvation,
     Give the pardon of our sins; 
By Thine all-restoring merit
     Every burden'd soul release, 
Every weary, wandering spirit
     Guide into Thy perfect peace.

I am reminded of a medieval hymn with which Charles Wesley was almost certainly familiar, by Thomas Aquinas, :

Light of lights!  All gloom dispelling,
Thou didst come to make thy dwelling
Here within our world of sight.
Lord, in pity and in power,
Thou didst in our darkest hour
Rend the clouds and show thy light.

Praise to thee in earth and heaven
Now and evermore be given,
Christ, who art our sun and shield.
Lord, for us thy life thou gavest, 
Those who trust in thee thou savest,
All thy mercy stands revealed.

This is not terribly surprising.  After all, songs written in praise of the divine Light are not uncommon, particularly hymns that reflect upon the Incarnation.  (Just think of "Silent Night" or "O Little Town of Bethlehem," for example.) Aquinas penned a lovely poem/prayer to which Wesley no doubt was indebted, yet his lovely hymn stands on its own. Its last appearance in an American Methodist hymnal apparently is in 1905, according to Discipleship Ministries of the United Methodist Church (https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/light-of-those-whose-dreary-dwelling), but it could easily be revived, especially when sung to the tune "Hyfrydol," the same tune used for the better known "Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus."

As you watch and wait and ponder and pray during this Advent season, you might read or even sing the words of Wesley's beautiful hymn.  In doing so, may you feel the darkness around you begin to dissipate as the Light shines into your heart and life, and may your weary, wandering spirit be guided by that same Light into perfect peace. 

Let Earth and Heaven Combine

Charles Wesley, most prolific hymn-writer in Christian history

During the season of Advent and into the Christmas season, people sing or hear many beloved hymns that form the backbone of their celebrations during this time of year.  But for every carol or song that has become part of the familiar soundscape of the season, there are many others, like this jewel, that are all but forgotten by many of us.  

Charles Wesley was an incredibly gifted man.  Writing poetry seems to have come to him almost as easily as breathing, and he was also a compelling preacher whose sermons brought the gospel to large numbers of people who felt themselves outcast and forgotten by the established Church.

Not all of his thousands of hymns were worthy of a gold star, and even the ones that most clearly expressed his theological fervor weren't always set to music for congregational singing.  Ever critical, big brother John wielded his editing pen lavishly if he felt a line was theologically questionable or if the verse itself was what he called "namby-pambical."  

This devotional poem may not be one we often sing, especially in the US, but its words are certainly worthy of meditative reading and study.  Its subject is the Incarnation, that most incomprehensible of doctrines, that God the infinite chose to shrink to our size, taking on the helplessness of a human child in order to bring us back to God and perfect us in love.  When you hear some of the vapid lyrics of many of the contemporary "Christmas songs" of our day, you may well reflect that they have a long way to go before they can match the depth of insight and wonder, let alone the pure poetry of these words:

Let earth and heaven combine,

      Angels and men agree,

   To praise in songs Divine

      The' incarnate Deity,

Our God contracted to a span,

Incomprehensibly made man.

He laid His glory by,

      He wrapp'd Him in our clay, 

   Unmark'd by human eye 

      The latent Godhead lay; 

Infant of days He here became, 

And bore the mild Immanuel's name.

See in that Infant's face 

      The depths of Deity, 

   And labour while ye gaze 

      To sound the mystery: 

In vain; ye angels, gaze no more, 

But fall, and silently adore.

Unsearchable the love 

      That hath the Saviour brought, 

   The grace is far above 

      Or man or angel's thought; 

Suffice for us, that God we know, 

Our God is manifest below.

He deigns in flesh to' appear, 

      Widest extremes to join,

   To bring our vileness near, 

      And make us all Divine; 

And we the life of God shall know, 

For God is manifest below.

Made perfect first in love, 

      And sanctified by grace, 

   We shall from earth remove, 

      And see His glorious face; 

His love shall then be fully show'd, 

And man shall all be lost in God.

God's Banner Over You Is Love

John Wesley writing letters at his bedroom window

(New Room, Bristol)

Much of Wesleyan theology revolves around the centrality of love, not as an ephemeral emotion but as the crowning disposition of a Christian's heart.  Possessing the inward qualities of love, meekness, and gentleness are essential for holiness and for what John Wesley calls "real Christianity."  Without these, new birth/regeneration cannot exist, no matter how right one's belief.  What Gregory Clapper calls "orthokardia" --  the right disposition of the heart -- is of the utmost importance. 

As a spiritual friend and adviser, in a letter to Ann Bolton (March 28, 1785), with whom he frequently corresponded, Wesley cautions her to find a balance between seeing the hand of God in every circumstance of her life and wrongly assuming that everything is connected and therefore is the will of God. He urges her to see every difficulty as something God can use to her good, aiding her to partake in the very holiness of God.  He then frankly admits that he also sometimes jumps to conclusions about whether or not something is God's will, encouraging her with the words of St. Paul that God's grace is sufficient for her and assuring her that no matter what, "His banner over you is love."

I have often found an aptness both in myself and others to connect events that have no real relation to each other. So one says, 'I am as sure this is the will of God as that I am justified.' Another says, 'God as surely spake this to my heart as ever He spoke to me at all.' This is an exceedingly dangerous way of thinking or speaking. We know not what it may lead us to. It may sap the very foundation of our religion. It may insensibly draw us into Deism or Atheism. My dear Nancy, my sister, my friend, beware of this! The grace of God is sufficient for you! And, whatever clouds may interpose between, His banner over you is love. Look to yourself that you lose not the things that you have gained, but that you may receive a full reward.

I grew up Southern Baptist, and one of the choruses we sang in youth choir was "His Banner Over Me is Love."  I must have sung that hundreds of times without realizing that the reference was from Song of Solomon 2:4 where the bride expresses her longing for her bridegroom's presence and exults in their mutual love.  Wesley was a far more astute Biblical scholar than I will ever be, so he surely knew the overtones invoked by using that particular phrase, thereby making a strong statement about the depth of love that God has for us, even when the "clouds interpose" and pain or sorrow or weariness threaten to hide that comforting truth from us.

As we approach Advent and Christmas, a time touted as the most wonderful of the year, it is important to note that it isn't necessarily a time of joy for many people.  Think of the refugees and asylum seekers; think of the survivors of hurricanes and wildfires; think of the lonely and broken and the sick and imprisoned.  Think of those whose family ties are strained to the point of breaking and of those whose loved ones are far away or already dead.  Think of those who aren't quite sure of God's love because of the way they have been treated by other people. 

Maybe the most important gift you give this year is the reminder that God's banner over them is love and that in Christ there is grace sufficient to meet every need and circumstance.  How might you express the joy and hope of the coming of Christ in the midst of the rush and bustle of shopping, parties, and sentimental music to someone who desperately needs a word of love?  Will you take time to let the Spirit lead you to move beyond a surface celebration to a deeper sharing of God's love and into a fuller sense of holiness of heart and life?  Let this Advent be a time of blessing and grace in which we are so filled with God's love that our hearts overflow with love for our sisters and brothers and back to the One who is its Source! 

The grace of God is sufficient for you! And, whatever clouds may interpose between, His banner over you is love.

That's What Made it a Holiday

John Wesley above the front entrance of Duke Chapel

On November 26, 1753 when he was so ill that he believed he was dying, John Wesley wrote out his own epitaph:  "Here lieth the body of John Wesley, a brand plucked out of the burning, who died of a consumption in the fifty-first year of his age ... praying God be merciful to me, an unprofitable servant..."(Journal, November 26, 1753).  Forbidden by his doctor to preach or ride a horse, he began to think of making his own translation of the New Testament and writing a New Testament commentary, and on January 6 embarked on the project, which was described by him as "a work which I should scarce ever have attempted had I not been so ill as not to be able to travel or preach, and yet so well as to be able to read and write" (Journal, January 6, 1754).

In typical John Wesley fashion, he did not want to be "useless" while he was recovering, so he worked to "redeem the time" by cranking out a rough draft in around four months.  One of the most beautiful passages written by him in his commentary on 1 Thessalonians comes to mind whenever anyone mentions gratitude or thanksgiving --

16 Rejoice always, 
     17 pray without ceasing, 
18 give thanks in all circumstances; 
     for this is the will of God 
in Christ Jesus for you. (1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18)

Rejoice evermore - In uninterrupted happiness in God. 
Pray without ceasing - Which is the fruit of always rejoicing in the Lord. In everything give thanks - Which is the fruit of both the former. This is Christian perfection. Farther than this we cannot go; and we need not stop short of it. Our Lord has purchased joy, as well as righteousness, for us. It is the very design of the gospel that, being saved from guilt, we should be happy in the love of Christ. Prayer may be said to be the breath of our spiritual life. [One] that lives cannot possibly cease breathing. So much as we really enjoy of the presence of God, so much prayer and praise do we offer up without ceasing; else our rejoicing is but delusion. 
Thanksgiving is inseparable from true prayer: it is almost essentially connected with it. [One] that always prays is ever giving praise, whether in ease or pain, both for prosperity and for the greatest adversity. [S/He] blesses God for all things, looks on them as coming from him, and receives them only for his sake; not choosing nor refusing, liking nor disliking, anything, but only as it is agreeable or disagreeable to [God's] perfect will.

Thanksgiving Day in the US is a weird holiday with a tangled history, but it always makes me think of my mama saying that every day ought to be Thanksgiving because we could never thank God enough for all the blessings of life.  Perhaps not surprisingly, she grew up Methodist, but I'm pretty sure she never read Wesley's Notes! 

That's beside the point, really.  Having a grateful heart, possessing a disposition of thankfulness, and praying with our every breath -- that is what makes a day a holiday -- which of course is taken from "holy day."  Being filled with praise for God, even in the most difficult of circumstances as well as in the fun times is surely a mark of holiness, and for Wesley, happiness and holiness went hand in hand.

Daddy and I celebrated Thanksgiving together this year, just the two of us.  Scott had to work, and my kids were elsewhere.  I told him we'd have "Thanksgiving surprise" because neither of us is a cook, yet we managed to cobble together a veritable feast for the eyes and the stomach!  And in our time together, we gave thanks.

Citizens of the Kingdom

carved crucifix, Rodel Church, Isle of Harris

This Sunday is the last Sunday of the liturgical year, and it is usually known as Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday.  The scriptures designated for it provide the perfect context for understanding that his reign and rule are far different from what we usually mean when we talk about monarchs and leaders.  Here we find no despot who is bent on getting his way by hook or by crook; here we see no bully-boy who threatens with weapons of mass destruction; here we discover no tyrant who subdues with intimidation and ridicule.  Instead, here we encounter a beaten, bleeding prisoner whose brow is crowned with thorns.  Here we meet a leader whose ammunition is Love, whose missiles are tears, and whose Reign is peace, and his mission is to bring to us true life, true love, true happiness, and true holiness.  His kingdom is not of this world, yet it has far-reaching implications for how we ought to live in this world as we work and wait for his kingdom to come here on earth as in heaven.

In a sermon entitled "The Unity of the Divine Being," John Wesley addresses the issue of what it looks like to be citizens of this different king's realm and rule.  Those who call themselves subjects of King Jesus will be both happy and holy as they grow in love of God and neighbor --

It is in consequence of our knowing God loves us, that we love him, and love our neighbour as ourselves. Gratitude towards our Creator cannot but produce benevolence to our fellow creatures. The love of Christ constrains us, not only to be harmless, to do no ill to our neighbour, but to be useful, to be "zealous of good works;" "as we have time, to do good unto all men;" and to be patterns to all of true, genuine morality; of justice, mercy, and truth. This is religion, and this is happiness; the happiness for which we were made. 

This begins when we begin to know God, by the teaching of his own Spirit. As soon as the Father of spirits reveals his Son in our hearts, and the Son reveals his Father, the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts; then, and not till then, we are happy. We are happy, first, in the consciousness of his favour, which indeed is better than life itself; next, in the constant communion with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ; then, in all the heavenly tempers which he hath wrought in us by his Spirit; again, in the testimony of his Spirit, that all our works please him; and, lastly, in the testimony of our own spirits, that "in simplicity and godly sincerity we have had our conversation in the world." Standing fast in this liberty from sin and sorrow, wherewith Christ hath made them free, real Christians "rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks." And their happiness still increases as they "grow up into the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ." 

And so, as we approach this Reign of Christ Sunday, I pray that we will indeed live into the liberty for which Christ has made us free by cultivating joy and gratitude and above all, love, in our hearts.  By the power of the Holy Spirit, let us be model citizens of Jesus' kingdom, now and forever!

Tiffany window in Trinity UMC chapel, Charleston, SC

Almost Advent

Icon at Portsmouth Cathedral, Portsmouth, UK

It's almost Advent.  That strange preparatory season that frequently gets short shrift by a world -- and a Church -- intent on rushing headlong into Christmas.  It was not always thus.  Advent used to be a bit more prominent, a bit less like a warm-up to the "most wonderful time of the year."  Advent used to be more meditative, more focused on Christ's coming, not simply as a baby but on his second coming in glory and majesty. 

Advent is a gift, if we but recognize and accept it. Advent offers us a space for living into the yearning we all feel between the world as it is and the world as it should be, between the deep desire we have for Christ's reign to really take hold here on earth as in heaven and the reality of a world that is rife with all sorts of upheaval:  mass migration of refugees, distrust and rage within our national life, hatred and even violence against "the other."

Advent offers us the opportunity to identify with Israel's longing for Messiah when the iron yoke of Rome chafed and oppressed them for so many years and with their sense of wonder and hope as John the Baptist and Mary and Joseph began to prepare the way for him, as they began to make room in their lives and in their hearts for the one "born a child and yet a King."           
Charles Wesley beautifully captures that Advent hunger for deliverance and deep need for strength, for relief, for the "gracious kingdom" to come, with a lovely hymn usually sung to the tune "Hyfrydol" --

Come, Thou long-expected Jesus,
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel’s Strength and Consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear Desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.

Born Thy people to deliver,
Born a child and yet a King,
Born to reign in us forever,
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.
By Thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
By Thine all sufficient merit,
Raise us to Thy glorious throne.

What are you hoping for this Advent 2018?  What are your deep desires not only for yourself but for your country, your planet, for all of God's vast and intricate creation?  How might you stop and look and listen for the arrival of the One in whom all things will find rest and completion?  And what can you do to de-clutter the path for him as he comes to "rule in all our hearts alone?" 

Come, Thou long-expected Jesus!

Madonna and Child, Mepkin Abbey, Moncks Corner, SC

Are You Earnestly Striving After it?

Traditionally, only ordained elders/presbyters/priests wear a stole shaped like a yoke around the neck, while deacons traditionally wear a sash-style stole to indicate their ordination.  In this picture I am wearing a stole bearing the distinctive cross and flame of the United Methodist Church, the branch of the Christian family into which I was ordained an elder in 1999.  Despite having been ordained in 1992 in the Southern Baptist tradition, it was necessary for me to go through the same paperwork and interviews required of all candidates for ministry in the UMC, which meant that my ordination was in some sense recognized but that I was also in some sense re-ordained.  I'll let someone else figure out the tangled theology involved with that -- that is not the point of this particular post!

Once our papers and/or videos were submitted to the Board of Ordained Ministry and we were interviewed at length and passed by each committee, we then came to the Clergy Session of Annual Conference to be asked certain historic questions that date back to John Wesley himself.  The first four are these:

Have you faith in Christ?
Are you going on to perfection?
Do you expect to be made perfect in love in this life?
Are you earnestly striving after it?

First and most obviously, we declare our faith in Christ, and then the next three questions address what Wesley called "the grand depositum of Methodism, that for which we were chiefly raised up," in a letter written close to the end of his life to Robert Carr Brackenbury on September 15, 1790.  This distinctively Methodist doctrine is referred to variously as Christian perfection, full/entire sanctification, holiness, and being made perfect in love, and it never fails to raise a few eyebrows or to provoke a nervous giggle or two.

You can understand why, of course.  The very idea of perfection in this life seems like a pipe dream conceived of by someone with an over-inflated ego.  Just look at the world around us.  The level of incivility in public discourse, the acceptance of overt rudeness and lying, and the frequency of vicious ad hominem attacks in political advertisements are enough to reinforce the idea that we live in a fallen and broken world. 

Or consider this. Over a dozen young people in Thousand Oaks, California died by gun violence yesterday, close on the heels of a massacre of Jewish worshipers in Pittsburgh, and the nation reels in shock and disbelief, but it happens so often in so many ordinary places that we've somehow come to accept it as "just the way things are."

That would not have made much sense to John Wesley.  Wesley had a very clear understanding of the depth to which the human heart can descend.  He adamantly proclaimed the reality of sin and the fierce grip it has on us all.  But he also understood that God is always at work with and in us and that the justifying grace that saves us is followed by the sanctifying grace that can and will make us holy.  The Holy Spirit woos and leads us as we attend to the "means of grace," the practices of prayer and worship, of receiving the sacrament and studying scripture, of caring for the physical and spiritual needs of the least, the last, and the lost among us.

Wesley knew and taught that our response to God's grace is enormously important, writing that "God does not, will not give that faith unless we seek it with all diligence in the way which he hath ordained" (Thoughts on Christian Perfection, in John Wesley, edited by Albert Outler, page 294).  That says to me that we cannot give in to hopelessness or fear; we must live out the faith in Christ which we proclaim, trusting in the sovereignty of God's grace.  As Wesley puts it, quoting Scripture, "ye have not because ye ask not," so why not ask?

When God reaches out and we take hold of the grace offered, we begin to become different people.  We are changed, as Charles Wesley wrote, "from glory into glory,"as we begin to love God more and more AND as we love our neighbors as ourselves.  It is not something we are capable of on our own -- that goes without saying -- but our cooperation with God enables us to grow in grace and in holiness, indeed, to grow towards perfection in love.

It is that goal to which we give our assent, not just on the day we stand before the Annual Conference to be ordained and set apart but every single day, and it is not a goal reserved for the clergy.  Wesley firmly insisted that seeking perfection in love in this lifetime was a gift meant for every Christian to yearn for, not because we are so good (for we are not), but because God is so great.

I wonder how many of us are indeed earnestly striving after it.  How many of us order our days so that we are attending to the ordinances of God, those means of grace that not only draw us closer to God but closer to others?  Do we live in that same hope that Wesley had, no matter how grim the news or circumstances?  If you feel despair when you look at the sickness of the world and the sinfulness within yourself, sit with these questions for a little while and listen to the whispers of the Spirit, and ask for the grace that can and will fill you with nothing but love of God and neighbor. 

Have you faith in Christ?
Are you going on to perfection?
Do you expect to be made perfect in love in this life?
Are you earnestly striving after it?

Yes!

"Our all in all is love"

Gravestone of Susanna Fowler, possibly a relative?!

(Theddlethorpe St. Helen's, Lincolnshire, July 2017)

Today is All Souls' Day, also known as the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed by Roman Catholics, Episcopalians/Anglicans, and some Lutherans.  It comes one day after All Saints' Day, a day the Church has historically set aside to honor all saints, known and unknown.  Since I grew up Baptist, I was only vaguely aware of these two observances, and even now, after being United Methodist for over 2 decades, I honestly can't tell much of a difference between the two.  For Methodists, "saints" covers all the "faithful departed," not just those who were formally canonized, so we have more or less conflated All Saints' and All Souls' into one.  In fact, in our understanding, every person living or dead who bears witness faithfully to Christ is considered a saint.

Because of that, Methodist churches observe All Saints' Day as a way of honoring Christians of all times and places who exemplified Christian love and holiness in their daily lives. Because we have no method of electing or canonizing, this remembrance includes not only those who were formally designated saints by the Church but also local exemplars of the faith.  Many congregations mark this feast of the Christian year with a solemn reading out of the names of their local saints who have died in the preceding year, often accompanied by the tolling of a bell.

John Wesley found the observance of All Saints' to be comforting, and he seems to have had a special fondness for that day, but he was wary of putting too much emphasis on saints, warning that while Christians should honor the saints, they should not worship them.  For that reason, when he crafted a worship book for American Methodists, he omitted most of the feast days listed in the Book of Common Prayer, remarking that "most of the holy days were at present answering no valuable end."

It therefore should come as no surprise that the great poet of the Methodist revival, Charles Wesley, speaks eloquently of the communion of the saints and the great gathering in the life to come, expressing in verse the deep yearning felt by those Christians still on earth as they await their entrance into paradise.

Charles Wesley describes our being drawn to Jesus by the "lodestone" or "magnet" of his love, pointing out that as we move ever closer to Christ, we also move closer to each other until we are united by his grace and bound together in perfect love.  He asks that God would bestow the gift of "the mind that was in Christ" as a present reality for Christians still on earth so that they will hardly notice a change at all once their earthly life is done and they glide into paradise.  He concludes this lovely hymn-prayer by extolling love above all other virtues or gifts, proclaiming:

In earth, in paradise, in Heav’n,
Our all in all is love.

Marker of the graves of a Fowler preacher

buried at Wesley's Chapel, City Road, London 

(photo taken June 2017)

The entire text of his hymn is printed below so that you may pray or sing it as you reflect and remember the saints who have blessed you in your Christian journey.  As you read the words, may you be drawn closer to God by the "lodestone" of divine love that binds us all together, the "threefold cord" that is unbreakable, as we are being made perfect in love through the Spirit, until the time we ride on angels' wings triumphant into the skies, singing that "our all in all is love."

Jesu, united by Thy grace,
And each to each endeared,
With confidence we seek Thy grace,
And know our prayer is heard.

Still let us own our common Lord,
And bear Thy easy yoke,
A band of love, a threefold cord,
Which never can be broke.

Make us into one Spirit drink;
Baptize into Thy name;
And let us always kindly think,
And sweetly speak, the same.

Touched by the lodestone of Thy love,
Let all our hearts agree,
And ever toward each other move,
And ever move towards Thee.

To Thee, inseparably joined,
Let all our spirits cleave;
O may we all the loving mind
That was in Thee receive.

This is the bond of perfectness,
Thy spotless charity;
O let us, still we pray, possess
The mind that was in Thee.

Grant this, and then from all below
Insensibly remove:
Our souls their change shall scarcely know,
Made perfect first in love.

With ease our souls through death shall glide
Into their paradise,
And thence, on wings of angels, ride
Triumphant through the skies.

Yet, when the fullest joy is given,
The same delight we prove,
In earth, in paradise, in Heav’n,
Our all in all is love.

Run My Course With Even Joy

I have a CD of Charles Wesley's hymns that I listen to almost every day in my office.  It features 21 different hymns sung beautifully by The Choral Arts Society of Washington Chamber Singers.  Some are familiar to almost any regular churchgoer ("O, For A Thousand Tongues to Sing"; "Love, Divine, All Loves Excelling"; "Christ the Lord is Risen Today") while others are perhaps less well known ("O Love Divine, What Hast Thou Done"; ""Christ, Whose Glory Fills the Skies.")  Depending on what else is happening around me, a phrase or line may stick in my mind and become an accompaniment to my daily work, and I have learned to pay attention to that and spend some time meditating on it.

Recently, I have found my thoughts circling around repeatedly to the same line in Charles Wesley's hymn of commitment to Christian service and discipleship, "Forth in Thy Name."   According to one of United Methodism's great Charles Wesley scholars, the Rev. S T Kimbrough Jr.,“Charles Wesley was deeply concerned that the attitudes with which we approach the endeavors of each day reflect our Christian posture and character.” (https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-forth-in-thy-name-o-lord)

Forth in thy name, O Lord, I go, 
my daily labor to pursue; 
thee, only thee, resolved to know 
in all I think or speak or do. 

The task thy wisdom hath assigned, 
O let me cheerfully fulfill; 
in all my works thy presence find, 
and prove thy good and perfect will. 

Thee may I set at my right hand, 
whose eyes mine in-most substance see, 
and labor on at thy command, 
and offer all my works to thee. 

For thee delightfully employ 
what e'er thy bounteous grace hath given; 
and run my course with even joy, 
and closely walk with thee to heaven. 

The line that keeps reverberating in my mind is the penultimate line of the last verse -- "and run my course with even joy" -- possibly because there are at least two possible ways to interpret it.  One is to understand it as stating that it is possible to "run one's course" of daily work with joy because of God's grace so bountifully given.  A second interpretation is to say that one can approach one's "course" with even joy rather than with jagged emotions that range from ecstasy to despair and back again.  The two aren't mutually exclusive, of course, which is part of the beauty and complexity of delving into a Wesley hymn.

I am reminded of the prayer of confession from Word and Table in the United Methodist Hymnal, particularly the line that pleads: "Free us for joyful obedience, through Jesus Christ our Lord."  Joyful, not grim-faced and dutiful, but joyful obedience!  The joy and happiness found in living into the will of Christ is a frequent theme of the Wesleys'.  In his sermon "The Way to the Kingdom," John Wesley preached, "Holiness and happiness, joined in one, are sometimes styled, in the inspired writings, 'the kingdom of God,'" and in another sermon entitled ("Satan's Devices") he exhorts the hearer: "Thus, being filled with all peace and joy in believing, press on, in the peace and joy of faith to the renewal of thy whole soul in the image of him that created thee!"

This emphasis on joy as integral to the Christian life is antithetical to the caricature that many have of the sour-faced Christian who never has fun and doesn't want anyone else to have any, either, and that is, well, sad.  Joy should be one of the first characteristics of any Christ-follower, a joy rooted in the assurance of God's love and grace, for all of us.  It is, after all, one of the first fruits of the Spirit to be mentioned in Galatians!

So I wonder.  How might you and I run our "course with even joy" in such a way that our lives attract rather than repel others from the Jesus-life?  As we pursue our daily work and recreation, how are we illustrating that "bounteous grace?"  I invite you to think of this, perhaps as you sing or pray this lovely hymn, and may joy fill your heart and your relationships as you seek to walk as Christ walked!

Frail Children of Dust

Pottery from Seagrove, NC

One thing I love about North Carolina is the tiny town of Seagrove, home to more than 100 potters, some of whom still use native clay to create their hand-thrown pots, mugs, vases, and  other works of art.  The piece above was given to me last week by a thoughtful parishioner, a gift that conveyed grace at a time when I most needed it.  It is a lovely and fragile piece of art formed from the dust and clay of the earth in much the same way that God the Divine Potter shaped each of us from the ground.

In my last post, I talked about some things that made last week so difficult on an emotional/spiritual level, but I didn't mention the toll that stress takes on me physically.  Like many other people, I suffer from constant pain, mostly in my back, although it does strike elsewhere at times.  Chronic pain is an unwelcome reminder that I am, as a hymn not written by Charles Wesley says, one of the "frail children of dust and feeble as frail."

John Wesley lived to be almost 88 years of age, and he suffered throughout his life from various common ailments, and as mentioned earlier, he was concerned with people's physical as well as spiritual health.  Not surprisingly, he believed that pain and suffering are part of the fallen order of the world, not part of God's good, original plan for creation.  In his sermon called "On the Fall of Man," he muses about the effects of aging upon the body, pointing out that even from our birth, we are traveling towards death, reminding us that we are dust and to dust we shall return.

Wrinkles show the proportion of the fluids to be lessened, as does also the dryness of the skin, through a diminution of the blood and juices, which before moistened and kept it smooth and soft. The extremities of the body grow cold, not only as they are remote from the centre of motion, but as the smaller vessels are filled up, and can no longer admit the circulating fluid...; in consequence of which, death naturally ensues. Thus are the seeds of death sown in our very nature! Thus from the very hour when we first appear on the stage of life, we are travelling toward death: We are preparing, whether we will or no, to return to the dust from whence we came!

In the 21st century, we hold youth up as an ideal and celebrate the vigor of the healthy, decrying the appearance of wrinkles and the inevitable slowing down of our bodies that comes with age.  When confronted by pain, especially chronic pain, we often handle it poorly because we want to alleviate it and are frustrated when this isn't possible.  This makes us uncomfortable when talking to someone who isn't going to "get well" and sometimes doesn't seem to even get much better at all.  There are times, like right now, that I can barely stand to be touched because my nerve endings are on high alert, and the slightest movement sends another urgent and unwelcome message to my muscles, which immediately tighten and even begin to go into spasms. Maybe I should get a copy of Wesley's electrical device for use on my back and arm, after all!

I tell you this, not because I'm looking for sympathy but to promote conversation and understanding about how to be present with another person in her/his pain without feeling that you have to try to fix it but also without ignoring or glossing over it.  Saying that you are sorry and offering to help conveys concern, and there is a time and place for gentle humor, but please don't ever tell anyone that they are too young to be sick or in pain.  That minimizes the very real agony that can flare up without warning in a body prone to certain conditions and belittles the all-too-real experience that cares nothing for your age or circumstance.

On behalf of myself and others with chronic pain, we need you to understand that there are times when the pain is so all-consuming that it literally hurts to breathe, let alone hug or shake hands, and please don't ever punch me or anyone else in the shoulder or on the back.  I don't try to make a big deal out of my condition, but I need you to respect that I have good reason for putting up an invisible fence between me and you, and I need you to help by honoring that and not taking it as a personal affront if I'm not doling out hugs.  

Will I die from the various pains and problems I am enduring?  Unlikely, but neither am I going to escape them.  Given that reality, can I somehow use the experience of discomfort and persistent aches to draw me closer to God and to others?  Certainly.  Suffering is part of the human experience in the time that lies between life lived in the Garden of Eden and the life yet to come, and I believe that the empathy gained from my own is a gift to be poured out as I serve other people who are dealing with their own sickness and ill health.  I do not believe that God is in the business of handing out cancer or diabetes or fibromyalgia or migraines or any other debilitating condition, but I do know that God can work in and through all the circumstances of life.  And as John Wesley said at least twice as he lay dying, "The best of all is, God is with us," even, maybe especially, when we are at our weakest and most vulnerable.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. (2 Corinthians 12: 9)