Out of the Depths

Statue of John Wesley outside St. Pauls's, London

Methodists have a special fondness for what has come to be known as Aldersgate Day or Wesley Day.  It marks the anniversary of John Wesley's profound  experience of the assurance of his salvation, an occasion when his heart was "strangely warmed" while he was attending a meeting of people listening to someone read from Martin Luther's preface to the book of Romans.

The quietly dramatic account recorded in his journal has become almost legendary, a touchstone for his spiritual heirs to treasure.  But what is sometimes forgotten is that this encounter with the divine was preceded by other moments in which Wesley did what he always did, starting the day with private prayer and reading of scripture and culminating with public worship of God with others.

On May 24, 1738, John Wesley wrote in his journal :

In the afternoon I was asked to go to St. Paul’s. The anthem was, “Out of the deep have I called unto Thee, O Lord: Lord, hear my voice. Oh, let Thine ears consider well the voice of my complaint. If Thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss, O Lord, who may abide it? For there is mercy with Thee; therefore shalt Thou be feared. O Israel, trust in the Lord: for with the Lord there is mercy, and with Him is plenteous redemption. And He shall redeem Israel from all his sins.”

The psalm from which the anthem came, Psalm 130, was one of the readings last week in the lectionary cycle from which I take my daily devotional.  I found myself repeating phrases from it over and over whenever I felt anxious about the uneasy state of affairs brought on by the global threat of covid 19.  "Out of the depths" we do indeed call unto God in a deeply unsettling time of waiting, of isolation, of business not at all as usual. 

St. Paul's, London

The upheaval caused by the pandemic has provoked a crisis of faith for many, vindicated the scorn of religion for some, and deepened the trust in God for others.  Fear for one's own health and for that of loved ones, fear for the economic well-being of the nation and of the world, and fear of the fallout for the weakest and most vulnerable are the order of the day. How wonderful, then, to have this and all the psalms of lament and complaint to help us form our prayers!  No need to aim at creativity; these ancient words perfectly echo the cries of our hearts from the seemingly bottomless depths of our despair!

There's lots of advice on how to understand what's happening and how to cope with the deprivations concomitant with it. Establishing a routine of sleep and outdoor exercise and good dietary habits while practicing the discipline of physical distancing are key to managing the stress. Faithfully and regularly reading scripture, praying, and worshiping with others via technology, and sensing the movement of the Spirit are equally essential. We're seeing the futility of trusting in ourselves alone for the fullness of life, and this presents us with the challenge of finding a different way forward.  There are those who say God is punishing us or getting our attention with this terrible illness. I reject that theology. God doesn't send plagues to teach us a lesson; God sends us Jesus, and his lesson is love.

And so, with Holy Week approaching, as we solemnly observe the passion of Christ while awaiting the joyous celebration of resurrection, we honestly yet trustingly wait for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning because we already know that the best of all is God is with us.