United by Grace

Today is the 50th birthday of the United Methodist Church.  Formed by the merger of the Evangelical United Brethren and the Methodist Church on April 23, 1968 in Dallas, Texas, the denomination was birthed with a prayer that included these words: "Lord of the Church, we are united in thee, in thy church, and now in The United Methodist Church."  Since I am serving at a Presbyterian church, publicity here about this significant date has obviously been non-existent, but the celebrations have been rather muted even in local United Methodist congregations and across the denomination as a whole.  This is not because the date just slipped up on us, catching us off guard, but because the UMC has been roiled by controversy over various hot-button issues for decades, and because even as we mark 50 years of union, we stand on the brink of "divorce."

I'm not going to re-hash the arguments, nor am I going to expound upon my own position, but it seems to me that we are better together than we are apart, no matter where we find ourselves along the theological spectrum.  When General Conference meets in a special session to deal with these matters next year, it could well mean the unraveling of our union, and this brings no small amount of grief to many of us who identify with this particular branch on the Wesley family tree.  I have no brilliant insights or creative solutions to these divisive matters, but my hope is that we will not cease to work and pray that our common faith and heritage will somehow be used by the Holy Spirit to bridge the gap and move us in a real way forward.  May the words of the following hymn by Charles Wesley be a prayer for the people called United Methodists as we ponder what it would mean to "... ever toward each other move, And ever move toward Thee."



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

Still let us own our common Lord,
And bear Thine 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.

Help us to help each other, Lord,
Each other's cross to bear;
Let all their friendly aid afford,
And feel each other's care.

Up onto Thee, our living Head,
Let us in all things grow;
Till Thou hast made us free indeed
And spotless here below.

Touched by the lodestone of Thy love,
Let all our hearts agree,
And ever toward each other move,
And ever move toward 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 heaven,
Our all in all is love.

Do You Have Anything To Declare?

This isn't the greatest picture, but this is from a fairly large print mounted on the wall in what used to be our dining room.  Since we never ate in there, we got rid of the table and chairs and other furniture and turned it into a Celtic room that still hardly gets used, but that's another story.  This particular print is in the style of Charles Rennie Mackintosh, influential Scottish architect and artist of the late 19th/early 20th century.  He and his artist/designer wife Mary Macdonald influenced the Art Nouveau movement, Arts and Crafts, and other European styles.  This original of this print is in A House for an Art Lover in Glasgow, a house furnished totally with the unique flavor of what came to be called the Glasgow Style.  I'm not quite sure who these women are supposed to be, but they look like angels to me, and so angels I will call them.

Someone new to the faith recently asked me if I believe in angels, and I told her that it depends on what you mean by that.  Chubby cherubs who look more like Cupid don't quite make the cut - I'm quite sure that nobody would need to be told "Be Not Afraid" if confronted by that sort of messenger!  On the other hand, the description in Isaiah is enough to convince you that angelic visitations would indeed be occasions for fear or at least a large dose of awe and wonder. At any rate, angels, however you understand them, are beings entrusted with carrying a message from God to people.  They do not exist to do their own thing; they exist to carry out the will of God.

In that sense, of course, we too are angels.  We have been entrusted with the responsibility of proclaiming the Word and all the good news that is wrapped up in the Incarnation of Jesus Christ.  When I preached on April 15, I entitled my sermon "Do You Have Anything To Declare?" as a way of making that point.  Comparing the experience of filling out a customs declaration to preaching a sermon with our lives as well as our lips, I spent some time encouraging the congregation to wrestle with the reality that the gospel is costly and that being a messenger of it will leave you with scars just as the Risen Christ still carried visible wounds on his body.   Given that, the injunction, "Be Not Afraid" seems to be almost laughable.  It's more like "Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid!"  Or is it?

I doubt any of us will look as ethereal and beautiful in our proclamation of the gospel as the angels in my print, but I do know that we do have a gospel to declare, a message of God's grace and love and a challenge to live a life that is conformed to that gospel, and I know that the Spirit breathes into us power and creativity and holy boldness.  Perhaps you will reflect on these things as you think on the nature of fear and faith, of doubt and discernment, and of life and love.  Faith is a gift of the Spirit, and in the name of the Risen Lord, we go forth boldly to share God's passionate love for us and for all creation.  Do you have anything to declare?  You do indeed!  Alleluia, and Amen!

"Do Not Bury Your Talent in the Earth"

Me and statue of John Wesley, Methodist Central Hall, Westminster (July 2016)

During the Easter season, we often hear more about the women disciples (Mary Magdalene, Salome, Joanna, and various Marys) than we do at other times of the year, especially with regard to their witness to the resurrected Lord.  They are often nearly invisible in the gospel texts unless one is paying close attention, but once you start looking, you begin to appreciate the vital role they played in the ministry of Jesus.  For example, Luke 8 speaks of Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Susanna, and "many others" who helped provide for the ministry with their financial resources.  Luke doesn't elaborate, but that means that some of these female disciples were women of means, who gladly gave their money to further the spread of the good news, and furthermore, it is not a stretch to assume that women were among the seventy sent out by Jesus in Luke 10.  Even in that very male-dominated society, women put their faith into practice in significant and life-giving ways, and Jesus always held them in high esteem for their steadfastness and commitment, treating them with respect and affirming their gifts for ministry alongside the men.


18th century England was also a patriarchal society, and John Wesley was a man of his time with some of the same blinders and biases that pervaded the religious and political thought of that era.  At the same time, he was the son of a remarkable woman, Susanna Annesley  Wesley, whose intellect and piety more than held their own in discussions of theology and devotion with clergymen -- including her husband and her sons! She home-schooled her sons and daughters, adamant that her daughters would learn to read well before being put to household tasks such as embroidery, educating them to a level far beyond what most women and some men would ever attain. No son of Susanna could have ever believed that women were inferior to men in terms of devotion to God, ability to reason and think, or responsibility to act and care for others.  His voluminous epistolary output included letters to women of high station as well as those of lower rank, offering them spiritual advice, asking about their health, and sometimes challenging them to push and even break boundaries of social convention, even to the point of affirming that some women had an "extraordinary call" to preach!

The following letter to Miss Philothea Briggs is a good example.  Philly Briggs was the daughter of Wesley's book steward in London, and he had known her since she was a child. Wesley speaks affectionately and encouragingly, assuring her of God's care and love, advising her about the state of her soul, suggesting various theological works for her reading, and urging her to write to him with any questions or concerns.

In this letter, he commends Miss Briggs for her poetry, telling her not to hide her talent but to utilize it -- "When you feel you are led to it, write verses; do not bury your talent in the earth." He also directs her to speak boldly when she meets with members of her class, a group that met regularly to study scripture, to do good for the poor and the sick, to worship and pray, and to hold each other accountable for growth in holiness in a spirit of love.

Reading these letters makes me feel encouraged in my faith journey, for there is much wisdom to be gleaned from Wesley's words from over 200 years ago, and it inspires me to be just as concerned about the spiritual welfare of those in my pastoral care.  These letters remind me that we all need to seek out our own "classes" or small groups with whom we meet regularly for support and prayer, and to hold each other accountable in love as we examine our consciences and our lives.   I hope you will find this example of Wesley's spiritual direction through his correspondence interesting, enlightening, and perhaps even challenging for your own growth in grace.  And perhaps you will be inspired to find your own spiritual friends who will travel with you on your journey towards holiness of heart and life.  Blessings!

MY DEAR PHILLY,--There is no fear I should forget you; I love you too well for that, and therefore love to hear from you, especially at this critical time, when all the powers of hell are engaged against you. But let them come about you like bees, they shall be extinct as the fire among the thorns. Tempted you are, and will be; otherwise you could not know your own weakness and the strength of your Master. But all temptations will work together for good; all are for your profit, that you may be partaker of His holiness. You may always have an evidence both of God's love to you and of yours to Him. And at some times the former may be more clear, at other times the latter. It is enough if, in one case or the other, you simply stay your soul upon Him. Sister Harper's is the ordinary experience of those who are renewed in love.  Sister Jackson's experience is quite extraordinary, and what very few of them have yet attained.

There is a danger of every believer's mistaking the voice of the enemy or of their own imagination for the voice of God. And you can distinguish one from the other, not by any written rule, but only by the unction of the Holy One. This only teaches Christian prudence, consistent with simplicity and godly sincerity.

The four volumes of Sermons, the Appeals, the Notes, and the Extracts from Mr. Law's Works and from Dr. Young, might best suit you now: meddle with nothing that does not suit your present temper. When you feel you are led to it, write verses; do not bury your talent in the earth. Meet with them that meet on a Friday, and speak in God's name without fear or shame.

The general rule, not to correspond but with those who have both grace and understanding, admits of several exceptions, in favour of a few who want one of them or the other or both.  While I am in Ireland you may direct to me at Dublin. Be not afraid of writing too long letters. The longer the more agreeable to, my dear Philly,

Yours affectionately.

J Wesley

(This particular letter is taken from the online collection of Wesley's works posted by Northwest Nazarene College --  http://wesley.nnu.edu/john-wesley/the-letters-of-john-wesley/wesleys-letters-1771/)

"Those Glorious Scars"

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas ~ Caravaggio


You can find almost anything online, some of it total trash, some of it pure gold.  Over the past couple of years, I have become familiar with the art and poetry of the Rev. Jan Richardson, a United Methodist pastor in Florida.  Her work is creative and thought-provoking, and if you follow her on Facebook or online, you will be inspired to think about Christ and the Christian journey in new, fresh ways.  Her thoughtful reflections on Thomas center around the above well-known painting by Caravaggio, and I will not repeat them here.  I merely want to acknowledge that the spark for this particular blog from me is at least partly from reading the following -- 
http://paintedprayerbook.com/2008/03/29/easter-2-into-the-wound/

I cringe every time I look at this painting.  It makes me uncomfortable.  The intensity of Thomas' stare into the gaping wound, the casual way Jesus displays it to him, inviting him not only to look but to touch it if necessary, and the eagerness of the two disciples peering over his shoulder -- it is very real, very corporeal, to use the fancy theological term, so very flesh and blood.  Which is of course the point.  The Risen Christ is no flimsy ghost, no wispy spirit, no figment of the imagination.  He is 100% a real human with a body that is both like and unlike its former existence, a body whose skin is still tender and bruised and scarred from the terrible events of the past few days. 

When I read Jan Richardson's words about this painting, I feel myself  being challenged and invited to look at it with different eyes, to see the gashes in his body as portals into something else, into new territory, unexplored terrain.  Hymn-writers and poets such as Isaac Watts and Charles Wesley have meditated on these matters, considering the marks left by the crown of thorns, the railroad spike nails, the spear, seeing them as badges of honor, as something to be adored.  In his glorious hymn "Lo, He Comes with Clouds Descending," often sung at Advent, Charles Wesley writes:

The dear tokens of His passion
Still His dazzling body bears;
Cause of endless exultation
To His ransomed worshippers;
With what rapture, with what rapture, with what rapture
Gaze we on those glorious scars!

"Gaze we on those glorious scars!"  Charles, as always, has a way with words.  I'm not totally convinced, though.  I look at the scars I bear as a result of various surgeries, removal of skin cancers, and childhood injuries, and I find them ugly.  One of them is, in my mind, repulsive.  It is useful, I suppose.  It serves as a reminder of all the times I sat in the sun without sunscreen, a reminder of the frailty of my own human body.  And perhaps now it will serve as an invitation to see beyond the myth of perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect physical whatever.  For if Jesus thought it important enough to carry his wounds beyond the grave on his resurrected body, who am I to mourn the tender redness of my scars?  Perhaps with Thomas, with Isaac Watts, and with Charles Wesley, I will be able to at least summon up appreciation if not rapture for the "dear tokens" of Christ's passion and death, while loving my own wounds a little more.  Something to think about, this first week into the season of Easter.

"Him, who rose to live in thee"

This is a picture I took back in August when I was walking around the Iona nunnery ruins. At first, I thought of it as a good image for the raising of Lazarus, but as I looked at it again on Easter Sunday, it struck me that it can be a depiction of the empty tomb that first Easter morning.  It looks like God blew the hinges off the "door," metaphorically speaking, pouring intense light and new life into what had been a dark and forbidding place of death and decay.  That turning point of history, that central tenet of the Christian faith, was witnessed by no one except the One to whom resurrection happened, and we can only marvel and wonder at the power of a God who is Lord of life and of death.

Although nobody witnessed this unprecedented act of God, from Mary Magdalene on down, Christians have tried to express this great truth in word and song. Most of us are familiar with Charles Wesley's beloved "Hymn for our Lord's Resurrection," which we know as "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" and can hardly imagine Easter without singing it at top volume.  The soaring tune "Lyra Davidica" paired with those matchless lyrics have set a standard for poetic declaration of the Easter faith that is matched by none.  It is not, however, the onlyEaster hymn the prolific poet penned, however. Less familiar are many others he wrote on the same subject, but as I poked around, I found one of these relatively unknown hymns that starts off by praising the faithful witness of Mary Magdalene.  

Here are some of the verses much as they would have appeared in the earliest Methodist hymnals.  Despite my commitment to inclusive language, I have not here altered the language to make it gender-inclusive because I wanted it to more closely reflect Charles Wesley's original words.  (Of course, John felt free to edit his brother any time he chose, and it is likely that some of this reflects  markings from his pen!)  Notice that it opens with him addressing Mary Magdalene directly and then shifts to a more personal tone, almost as if he is standing in her place before the Risen Lord, and then concludes with a plea for the reader/listener to take hold of the salvation available to all.  

As you read these words, may your heart be set afire and filled with Easter joy as you celebrate the One who died and rose for all, the Risen Christ who rose to live in you and in me!

Happy Magdalene, to whom
Christ the Lord vouchsafed t’ appear!
Newly risen from the tomb,
Would he first be seen by her?
Her by seven devils possessed,
Till his word the fiends expelled;
Quenched the hell within her breast,
All her sins and sickness healed.

Highly favoured soul! To her
Farther still his grace extends,
Raises the glad messenger,
Sends her to his drooping friends:
Tidings of their living Lord
First in her report they find:
She must spread the gospel-word,
Teach the teachers of mankind.

Who can now presume to fear?
Who despair his Lord to see?
Jesus, wilt thou not appear,
Show thyself alive to me?
Yes, my God, I dare not doubt,
Thou shalt all my sins remove;
Thou hast cast a legion out,
Thou wilt perfect me in love.

Surely thou hast called me now!
Now I hear the voice divine,
At thy wounded feet I bow,
Wounded for whose sins but mine!
I have nailed him to the tree,
I have sent him to the grave:
But the Lord is ris’n for me,
Hold of him by faith I have.

Here forever would I lie,
Didst thou not thy servant raise,
Send me forth to testify
All the wonders of thy grace.
Lo! I at thy bidding go,
Gladly to thy followers tell
They their rising God may know,
They the life of Christ may feel.

Hear, ye brethren of the Lord,
(Such he you vouchsafes to call)
O believe the gospel-word,
Christ hath died, and rose for all:
Turn ye from your sins to God,
Haste to Galilee, and see
Him, who bought thee with his blood,
Him, who rose to live in thee. ~ Charles Wesley