Sunday, May 2, 2021

New Site for Blog

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Thank you!



Friday, April 16, 2021

CHANGES RELATED TO THIS BLOG


I am not the world's most technically savvy individual, and I just discovered that those of you who follow my blog by receiving posts in your email will no longer be able to do so as of July 2021.  There is supposedly a way for me to copy the list of subscribers and move those email addresses to another list so that you can keep traveling with Wesley.  However, I cannot figure out how to make that happen!  

I'll keep trying and asking questions, so  

     WATCH THIS SPACE!

A Shattered, Disordered World



In John Wesley's sermon entitled "On Temptation,"  he refutes the idea that a person can be tempted beyond the point of resistance, or that anyone can claim to have experienced temptations that are stronger than those suffered by others. He does so by pointing to scripture and asserts that we ought not ever be surprised by the temptations we face because we are after all sinners living in a shattered and disordered world.  Life is hard and following Christ is not always easy.

First, “Let him that most assuredly standeth, take heed lest he fall” into murmuring; lest he say in his heart, “Surely no one’s case is like mine; no one was ever tried like me.” Yea, ten thousand. “There was no temptation taken you,” but such as is “common to man;” such as you might reasonably expect, if you considered what you are; a sinner born to die; a sinful inhabitant of a mortal body, liable to numberless inward and outward sufferings; — and where you are; in a shattered, disordered world. surrounded by evil men, and evil spirits. Consider this, and you will not repine at the common lot, the general condition of humanity.

That phrase, "shattered, disordered world" really jumped out at me today when I ran across it in my devotional reading.  What an apt description of the reality of our lives! We've been enduring a worldwide pandemic of disease and death that has brought even the most resilient among us to feel a great deal of stress, uncertainty, and loss on an unimaginable scale.  And while everyone has been affected by the coronavirus in one way or another, it is the vulnerable among us who are suffering most.  

The longing to return to normal is a pipe-dream for we must face the fact that the old normal wasn't actually working for a lot of people. Inequalities based on race and gender and the lack of a real safety net for people barely getting by have been revealed in stark contrast to the idea that things are getting better all the time.  We are having to face the reality that we live in a shattered, disordered world, and we can either ignore or deny it, or perhaps give into despair and rage, or we can see this revelation of our brokenness as a gift. Just as the child in the story bluntly proclaimed that the emperor's new clothes were imaginary, fake news, we must bravely look at ourselves and the economic and political systems in which we operate and recognize them for what they are, structures that benefit the few at the expense of the many.

The well-worn narrative that says that the poor are lazy and somehow deserve whatever woes befall them is a very old one. In Wesley's day, just as in ours, there were many who found it easy to justify their own wealth as something they deserved and as something they had achieved singlehandedly while ignoring the clear biblical injunction to share generously with others and to care for the poor, the foreigner, and those on the margins.   He wrote:

Has poverty nothing worse in it than this, that it makes men liable to be laughed at? It is a sign this idle poet talked by rote of the things which he knew not. Is not want of food something worse than this? God pronounced it as a curse upon man, that he should earn it "by the sweat of his brow." But how many are there in this Christian country, that toil, and labour, and sweat, and have it not at last, but struggle with weariness and hunger together? Is it not worse for one, after an hard day's labour, to come back to a poor, cold, dirty, uncomfortable lodging, and to find there not even the food which is needful to repair his wasted strength? You that live at ease in the earth, that want nothing but eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to understand how well God has dealt with you, -- is it not worse to seek bread day by day, and find none? perhaps to find the comfort also of five or six children, crying for what he has not to give! Were it not that he is restrained by an unseen hand, would he not soon "curse God and die?" O want of bread! Want of bread! Who can tell what this means unless he hath felt it himself? I am astonished it occasions no more than heaviness even in them that believe! ~ John Wesley ( Sermon 47, Heaviness through Manifold Temptations)

John Wesley calls us back to the heart of our faith, which is love, love of God expressed through love of neighbor in concrete ways that sustain and give life rather than caring for ourselves and seeking only to feather our own nests.  When he rhetorically asks how many people work hard every single day only to come home to misery and poverty and hunger, we should pay attention and ask the same question of today's world, and we should respond by answering it by acting as Christ did in sharing, loving, giving.  

As we begin to see glimmers of light at the end of the long, dark tunnel that started in 2020, let us also begin to see new ways of ministry and mission that are not limited by our previous ways of engaging.  The Holy Spirit is at work, even though we don't yet clearly understand what the new life of the Church will be like.  May we have grace to discern and follow the divine promptings that invite us into something new in this shattered, disordered, but beloved world.  And may our hearts be moved from complacency and willing blindness to action and clarity of vision for the good of all God's children.


Friday, March 12, 2021

She's Someone

 



A few days ago, I thought, "Oh, I really need to find time to write another blog post," but planning worship and writing sermons, promoting my book and attending online retreats that started at 4:30 AM my time pretty much put paid to that notion.  I was looking forward to spending today doing absolutely nothing, having something good to eat, reading a novel, napping, and in general, having an actual day off.

But then I heard about Sarah Everard.  If you are in the UK, you already know her name and at least part of her story.  If you are in the US, maybe you haven't heard about her.  But I guarantee you know someone like her, even if the woman/women you know didn't wind up a murder statistic.  Sarah Everard was walking home, a perfectly normal activity, and she disappeared, seemingly into thin air.  She was attacked and murdered, allegedly by a Metropolitan Police officer, someone charged with the duty of protecting and serving, someone she no doubt believed she could trust.  Her body was found some 50 miles from where she was last seen, and women all across Britain are sharing their stories of being intimidated, sexually harassed, and treated with disrespect by men  

Every woman I know, whether she does it consciously or not, lives with a low murmur of danger thrumming in her veins.  When she goes out alone, whether walking or driving or taking public transportation; when she's at home alone and the doorbell rings; when she leaves a store and crosses a parking lot and unlocks her car; when she plans the route she will take to and from a particular destination -- she's thinking things like, "I've got plenty of gas in the car, and my phone is charged.  I'll be back before it's dark. I have my keyring with a loud whistle on it. I told so-and-so where I was going and who I'd be with."  And so on and so on and so on.  

We're told before we even go to school how we're supposed to curtail our lives so that we won't be a tempting target.  How to not take up too much space.  How to ignore the lewd remarks and eyes that sweep over us like a pornographic X-ray machine.  How to make ourselves as small and un-noticeable as possible.  And if we do find ourselves on the receiving end of catcalls, wolf whistles, grab 'em by the p****y remarks, or worse still, molested, raped, and assaulted, we're told we must have done something, said something, worn something to call it down on ourselves.  Jogging? Drinking? Making eye contact?  BREATHING???? 

If you are a man, and you think you're one of the good guys, consider this.  The really scary ones don't wear signs.  It's not like they're contained in an offender zone that we can avoid.  And so if a woman doesn't get in an elevator with you, doesn't make small talk at the bar, or if she doesn't, heaven forbid, smile at you, don't make it about you.  Don't tell her you're just being friendly or whatever and make her feel like she's hurting your feelings because she doesn't choose to interact with you.  Be a good guy.  Respect her.  Respect her space.  Leave her alone.  If you're with guys making cracks about women, calling names, and telling dirty jokes, say something.  Don't use your size, strength, and privilege to do more damage.  Be that stand-up guy, and speak up, speak out, speak for, and above all, listen to the women who tell you their stories.  Believe them when they tell you of feeling unsafe, and be part of the solution rather than part of the blame the victim brigade.  That's what being a good guy looks like. 

And if you're wondering if this somehow connects to the usual subject matter of my blog, well, yes, it does. I'm thinking of another Sarah. Sarah Ryan was one of the "Mothers in Israel" I wrote about, and she was victimized by many of the men who were closest to her.  Married to three different men who deserted without divorcing her, she was treated her as a sex object and even contracted a venereal disease from one of them.  

Even after she discovered that the depth of God's mercy included her and she became a Methodist class leader, the housekeeper at the New Room, and even an exhorter, her reputation was in tatters.  Her frank retelling of the brutality of her former life earned her scorn even from some other women, including Molly Wesley, the wife of John Wesley, but he saw in her something no one else had bothered to see, perhaps because he had seen the ways his intelligent and talented sister Hetty had been treated by some of the men in her life.  Sarah wasn't just someone's wife, or daughter, or sister.  She was someone.

John Wesley helped her believe in her gifts for ministry, for encouragement, and for mentoring others in faith. She became so well-respected for her testimony of what God had done in her life and her work with poor children that Charles Wesley lauded her in her funeral sermon as a "mother in Israel." That, too, is what being a good guy looks like.

Sarah Ryan was such a powerful speaker and spiritual leader that she became what Mary Bosanquet called "the friend of my soul," and was a mother in the faith not just to Mary but to other women, as well. When she died, aged only 44, her gravestone hailed her as a "mother in Israel" along with two other Methodist women preachers given that accolade, Ann Tripp and Sarah Crosby, who also share that final resting place.  

If it hadn't been for "good guys" like the Wesley brothers, who knows what might have happened to her?  Who knows how many lives would have perhaps remained untouched by the gospel, had she not been encouraged by them to speak of the love of God and how it changed her life?

If you care about women, go and do likewise.  Our very lives may depend on it.






Saturday, February 20, 2021

Book News and Video Link!


 I recently had a book signing event at City Center Gallery and Books in downtown Fayetteville for my first ever book about early English Methodist women preachers and leaders, Mothers in Israel: Methodist Beginnings Through the Eyes of Women. These are a few recent pictures and a link to my interview with Brian Allain of Writing For Your Life.



Click on the link below to view the video!


Tuesday, February 2, 2021

Impudent Women of Methodism: Past and Present



Yesterday, a box containing five copies of my book Mothers in Israel:  Methodist Beginnings Through the Eyes of Women arrived at my house, and though I was dying to rip it open, I waited until Scott came home so he could record a short video of me opening the box and removing them.  This was the first time I had seen the actual book and held it in my hands, and I was beyond excited.  

Just a day or so ago, the bishop of the North Carolina Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church, my bishop, Hope Morgan Ward, read and reviewed the book, commending it by saying that it is "thoroughly engaging, beautifully written, and provocative for conversation and spiritual growth."  She then goes on to highlight my desire that we learn from these women and not just about them.  

And just today I saw that Cokesbury, the bookstore and supplier of all things United Methodist, has the book in stock and on sale, another exciting step in this journey.  Friends have been posting pictures on social media of them holding their copies of the book in their hands, and I have several opportunities lined up over the next two months to talk about these incredible women of the past and their relevance for the present and future. Truly, my cup runneth over.

I'm a bit nervous about these appearances, as self-promotion does not come naturally or easily to me, but I am passionate about this subject.  I believe we owe it to Susanna Annesley Wesley, Mary Bosanquet Fletcher, Sarah Ryan, Sarah Crosby, Mary Tooth, and so many more to tell their stories.  It is vitally important for us to celebrate these "impudent women" whose love for Jesus and whose zeal for the gospel led them to engage in "unladylike" public acts of leadership because of the strength of their call.  

Every woman of today in every branch of the Wesleyan Methodist family who stands in a pulpit and preaches, teaches Sunday School, heads up a committee, writes curriculum, directs a choir, or leads a financial campaign is standing on the shoulders of these giants, these remarkable mothers in the faith, whether or not she realizes it.    Their voices matter because their witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ matters, and it is my fervent prayer that this will spark a desire to know more about them and their holy boldness in ministry that visibly bore the good fruit of changed lives and growth in holiness.

Part of the book's dedication is to the memory of Marie P. Fowler, my own mother.  She was my first mother in the faith, a devout and loving woman who read the Bible every day and prayed without ceasing, who prayerfully nurtured me and my sister in the things of God.  She has already entered the Church Triumphant and stands shoulder to shoulder with these other "mothers in Israel," but I can feel her with me every time I step into a pulpit, open the scriptures, or bow my head to pray. Though she is the last person to ever be considered impudent, in her own quiet, gentle way, she kindled the fire in my bones that burns brightly in the pages of this book and in my ministry, and the gift of her life and her love is a treasure I will hold forever dear.  

Who are the "mothers in Israel" who have left an indelible mark on your soul and your spirit?  What are the names of the women who were not content to keep silent when the Spirit was prompting them to speak, to act, to take up space, and to change things?  Add their names to the roll of the impudent women of my book; for whenever the gospel is proclaimed, these stories will be told in memory of them.

Mama, Diana, and me, Grandfather Mountain, North Carolina, 1975

Friday, January 29, 2021

Wholly Given Up




Mary Bosanquet Fletcher was one of early Methodism’s most well-regarded preachers and teachers. Though somewhat diffident about her own abilities, she became a mentor to women and men through her preaching, her letters, her Christian conversation, and her relentless faithfulness to the call of Christ. She kept a spiritual journal in which she reflected on her struggles with faith, her failing health, her deep and abiding relationship with Sarah Ryan, her love and respect for her husband John Fletcher, and her overwhelming sense of God’s goodness and her gratitude for it. She wrote:

I would be given up, both soul and body, to serve the members of Christ. My firm resolution was to be wholly given up to the church, in any way that He pleased. I desired not to be idle, but employed as those described by St. Paul to Timothy, “If she have brought up children, if she have lodged strangers, if she have washed the saints’ feet, and diligently followed after every good work.” I can hardly express with what power these words would come to my mind. It seemed to me, the Lord had planned out all my way; and I only wished so to walk.

In doing research for my book Mothers in Israel: Methodist Beginnings Through the Eyes of Women, I encountered women of various backgrounds, educational levels, economic status, and ability. All of them possessed a fierce sense of the guiding presence of the Holy Spirit in their lives and a purpose which God called them to fulfill. I hope you will enjoy getting to know these amazing “mothers in Israel “ and that you will be inspired and encouraged by their example so that you, too, may be wholly given to God.



Sunday, January 24, 2021

My Book is Now Available!

Mothers In Israel:  Methodist Beginnings Through the Eyes of Women
is now available through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, 
Upper Room Books, cokesbury.com, 
and locally at City Center Gallery and Books, downtown Fayetteville NC!




Book Launch and Book Signing 
at City Center Gallery and Books
February 11 and 13, 2021















 

 

Friday, January 8, 2021

Trust in the Strong for Strength

 



First blog post of 2021, and I hardly know what to say.  I knew that merely turning the calendar to a new page wouldn't magically eliminate my husband's lymphoma, destroy coronavirus and end the pandemic, or create harmony amongst the fractious political factions here in the US.  What I didn't know was that I would be witness to a pivotal moment in history in which armed protesters-turned-rioters would vandalize the US Capitol while waving Confederate battle flags and "Don't Tread on Me" banners and ironically carrying proclamations of Jesus as Lord.  That they would trespass into private congressional offices, throw their contemptuous jack-booted feet onto desks, while wallering on "Old Glory" and calling themselves patriots. That the occupant of the White House would pretend to call for peace, peace, while there is no peace, telling them to go home  while simultaneously stoking the fires of fury in his insistence that the election results were fraudulent.  All this, on one of the holiest days in the Church year, Epiphany.

I must say that Epiphany never shone more light than when the abuse of human power was revealed in its darkness, both in the time of Herod and today.  Saying Jesus is Lord while wreaking this kind of havoc and terror in the halls of government is a lie, and I don't care what your political affiliations are -- if you are a Christian, your allegiance is to the Lamb that was slain, not to an elephant, a donkey, or a tyrant who incites mob rule and spits on the Constitution.  This goes way beyond differences on policy or party politics; after all, neither party has a monopoly on getting everything right or getting everything wrong.  But this is a clear example of trusting in one's own power, of relying on the sword (or the gun), of drunkenly swallowing the rhetoric that burns and destroys and kills.  It was shocking and frightening and nauseating.

In my distress and horror, I turned to scripture, to prayer, to poetry, and to the writings of someone who had seen political insurrection and danger many times over.  Listening to Handel's Messiah while reading Isaiah stirred the flickering flame of hope in my heart and prompted me to search out some of my photographs to express my thoughts. Malcolm Guite's poem written in response to Psalm 70 was written during lockdown last year, and Pray As You Go (an app and website) had pre-recorded their devotional moment, but their posts over the last two days were spot on, perfectly capturing my feelings and yearning for God's Light to penetrate the darkness.  And John Wesley, who witnessed the Jacobite uprising, war with the French, the American and French Revolutions, and countless other diseases and types of human suffering, left a record of his faith in the steadfast love and strength of God no matter what might happen.

Riffing on Job 9: 19 -- If I speak of strength, lo, he is strong: and if of judgment who shall set me a time to plead? -- Wesley again and again, in sermons*, letters*, and in his journal*, offers encouragement to himself and others by speaking of crying to the Strong for strength, of trusting the Strong for strength, of looking to the Strong for strength, of fleeing to the Strong for strength.  Whether referring to having to endure bodily illness, crises of faith, physical danger or violence, or contentious conversations, Wesley did not dare lean upon the broken reed of his own abilities, nor did he wish to see the people called Methodists do so.  It was all too clear to him just where that would lead.

I write this today, not to engage in argument or disputation but simply in order to point to the Light and to the Lamb, the Strong to whom we may always approach for strength:  strength to endure, to persist, and to challenge the forces of oppression and hatred.  We are certainly going to need it for the living of these days.

Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people; but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee. (Isaiah 60: 1-2, KJV)

*see Wesley's letter to William Minethorp of November 30, 1776, his letter to Eliza Bennis of December 16, 1772, his journal entry for May 26, 1752, and various sermons ("Self Denial," "Of Evil Angels," "Spiritual Idolatry," etc.

New Site for Blog

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