Feasting at the Heavenly Banquet

cemetery near Dunvegan, Isle of Skye, Scotland

November is a beautiful month in North Carolina. The days are crisp and sunny with achingly blue skies, and every autumn colored leaf imaginable welcomes the shift in weather by falling to the ground.  But it is a month of great heaviness to my spirit, in spite of the shift in temperatures and the glory of seeing another season come around.  Daylight Saving Time ends, and the days get darker sooner, and there's All Saints' Day and then anniversary of Scott's mother's death, and then the anniversary of my mother's death.  I miss her.  I miss her smile.  I miss her beautiful blue eyes.  I miss the way she called me "Shug" and "Baby Buns"--  (don't ask!) And I really miss her cooking.  I miss eating the wonderful Southern food she prepared every single day and fed to us with so much love.

Since I'm on transition leave and not serving a church right now, I've been visiting other churches, and it was important for me to worship with a congregation that observes All Saints' Sunday with some solemnity -- and with the sacrament of holy communion.  I also had the opportunity to worship at Duke Divinity School for their celebration of that day, so I got a double dose of "For All the Saints" and the sharing of bread and cup.  There is something powerful about this observance that speaks of the pain and reality of separation that comes from the death of someone you love but also of the hope and reality of the communion of saints and the promise of resurrection and life eternal with them in God's presence.  Perhaps not surprisingly, food plays a big part in that future hope.  The communion liturgy of the United Methodist Church includes these words:

By your Spirit make us one with Christ, 
one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world, 
until Christ comes in final victory 
and we feast at his heavenly banquet.

Feasting with Christ and all the saints at the heavenly banquet as a future hope is also a present reality for us when we come to the table and share the sacrament.  Nothing new there, but I recently learned something I didn't know on Preach the Story, Leonard Sweet's Facebook page.  It's a beautiful description of why some churches have their communion rails built in a half-circle.  Sweet learned it from David Wahlsted, who got it from Charles Henrickson (a Lutheran theology professor and pastor), and Henrickson in turn quotes a Swedish churchman named Bo Giertz:

 Where the circle ends at the chancel wall, the fellowship still continues; in the churchyard is the resting place of the dead, the Lord's faithful, who now are partakers of the great banquet in heaven. They are with us as a great cloud of witnesses, they continue the small circle of people around the altar in my parish church, a circle that widens and is extended both back in time through the centuries and forward into the eternal world. It is a table fellowship without end. Shoulder by shoulder are they with us: our own faithful ancestors who once received the sacrament here at this altar, saints and martyrs elsewhere through the ages, and finally the Lord Himself and His apostles in the glorious kingdom in heaven above where the circle comes to its conclusion. This is 'communio sanctorum,' the communion of saints in Christ's kingdom of grace. Celebrating the Lord's Supper with my brothers and sisters in Christ, I am connected with the saints who sit at the Lord's Table in the heavenly kingdom. I am counted as one of God's holy people.

John Wesley would have warmed to that idea. All Saints' had special meaning for him, and he mentions it in his journal several times, describing it as a "day of triumphant joy" (1756) and calling people "superstitious" who think it wrong to give God "solemn thanks for the lives and deaths of his saints!"  It is clear that he and his mother Susanna had a special relationship, and he certainly numbered her among the saints of God.  He writes movingly of her death:

I went to my mother, and found that her change was near. I sat down on the bed-side.  She was in her last conflict; unable to speak, but, I believe, quite sensible.  Her look was calm and serene, and her eyes fixed upward, while we commended her soul to God. From three to four the silver cord was loosing and the wheel breaking at the cistern; and then, without any struggle, or sigh, or groan, the soul was set at liberty. We stood round her bed, and fulfilled her last request, uttered a little before she lost her speech:  'Children, as soon as I am released, sing a psalm of praise to God.'

Susanna Annesley Wesley Garden, Lake Junaluska, NC

In his book Susanna Wesley and the Puritan Tradition in Methodism, John Newton notes that Susanna's daughter Anne was also present at her deathbed, and that she wrote in a letter to brother Charles who was not there:

A few days before my mother died, she desired me, if I had strength to bear it, that I would not leave her till death, which God enabled me to do. She laboured under great trials both of soul and body, some days after you left her; but God perfected His work in her about twelve hours before He took her to Himself.  She waked out of a slumber; and we, hearing her rejoicing, attended to the words she spoke, which were these: 'My dear Saviour!  are you come to help me in my extremity at last?'  From that time she was sweetly resigned indeed; the enemy had no more power to hurt her. The remainder of her time was spent in praise.'

I have found God's comfort and grace every year when November rolls around, even in the grip of the sadness that inevitably steals over me as I grieve for my mother, I remember that in her last days she, too, was filled with praise of God.  Before she was no longer able to speak, we recorded her singing "This Little Light of Mine" in a voice that was barely above a whisper with a face that, though gaunt from illness, shone with a quiet glow that had everything to do with the One who was present with her through it all.  Perhaps if I had known it,  as soon as my mother was set free I would have sung these words written by Charles Wesley a few years after his mother's death:

'Tis finished! 'Tis done!
The spirit is fled,
The pris'ner is gone,
The Christian is dead!

The Christian is living
In Jesus's love,
And gladly receiving
A kingdom above.

Amen!  Thanks be to God!

communion table, John Wesley's Chapel (New Room), Bristol

Has She Faith? Has She Gifts? Has She Fruit?

For the past several years, I have been reading voraciously and spending inordinate amounts of time researching various aspects of the ministries of women in the early days of Methodism, particularly in the time of John Wesley.  Again and again, I see in their own words and in the testimony of those who knew them the same qualities of deep piety, devotion to prayer,  and a burning desire to serve and love God with everything in them.  Brought up to be meek and submissive, women like Susanna Annesley Wesley, Mary Bosanquet Fletcher, Sarah Crosby, Sarah Ryan, and Hester Ann Roe Rogers tenaciously clung to the scriptural mandate found in Acts that it is better to follow God than human law, even if it looks "particular," results in people calling them "impudent," or ruptures bonds of family beyond repair.  What compelled these strong, intelligent, pious women to stand fast in the face of obstacles?  How did their faith give them a firm foundation on which to stand?  How were they alike, and how were they different?  And what was the reaction and role of  the significant men in their lives in either encouraging or impeding them in their ministries?

All these are questions I am delving into a bit deeper as I turn my hand to the book I have long been trying to bring into the world.  The furor over the remarks of a well-known evangelical man about "women preachers" (see my last post) has led to Cokesbury deciding to stop selling/stocking his books, inspired a frame on Facebook profile pictures declaring support for women clergy, and stirred lively discussion in the halls of churches, divinity schools, and work places.

It seems that a sleeping giant may have been awakened, for you see, there are generations of faithful Christians who have come to know Christ because of a woman, grown deeper in faith because of a woman, discerned their own call to ministry because of a woman, and been encouraged and strengthened in time of need because of a woman.  They may not be able to quote chapter and verse regarding the strong leading women in Scripture, and they may not know the names of Mary Bosanquet Fletcher or Sarah Crosby or any other early Methodist women leaders and preachers, but they can tell you that the woman who was their pastor held their dying father's hand, prayed with their mother before surgery, tenderly baptized their weeks-old infant, listened to their tearful story of marital discord, inspired their teenager to claim the name of Christ and be confirmed,and preached about the love God has for all people and for all creation.  They can tell you that she showed up and stayed when it mattered most, that she missed her daughter's dance recital, cut short vacation because of a funeral, and called to check on someone in the hospital while at the reception of a couple she just joined in marriage.

By the way, I've done all of those things -- and more -- and so has every woman pastor who has wearily typed up another agenda for yet another meeting, called and emailed and texted and prayed and practically sweated drops of blood before a mission trip, wiped sweat out of her eyes as she balanced a plate of fried chicken and a Bible at a funeral meal while trying to answer her phone and figure out when she's going to find time to write Sunday's sermon.  Not because we are super-women.  Not because we are trying to prove anything to anybody.  Not because we think we are special.  No, it's simply because we were created by God, called by Jesus, and gifted by the Spirit for the hard and holy work of being a pastor, and when we were examined by committees and boards for our fitness to ordained ministry, the same three questions John Wesley had in mind were on our hearts:  Have we faith?  Have we gifts?  Have we fruit? Wesley was asked why he encouraged certain women of his acquaintance in preaching, and he is reported by Zachariah Taft to have said: "Because God owns them in the conversion of sinners, and who am I that I should withstand God?"

It just so happens that I preached at Homecoming this past Sunday at one of the churches I served at my first appointment, and as I reflected that Beth Moore and by extension, every woman who dares to preach was told to "go home," it seemed fitting to me that I was in a sense doing exactly that.  I was returning to a place that had welcomed me as a new pastor who was also new to the United Methodist Church, going back to see folks who had loved me and supported me, who welcomed me back with open arms, fried chicken, and Pepsi.  And really, that's what we all want, isn't it?

I hope that you will think on these things.  Maybe you know a woman in ministry.  Maybe you don't.  Maybe you've never thought about it before.  But I ask that you think about it now and lift up a prayer for the women of the cloth who are simply trying to faithfully answer the call that God has placed on their lives.  And before you criticize, condemn, or complain, consider those three questions:  Has she faith?  Has she gifts?  Has she fruit?  and then ask the same of yourself.  May you be blessed by all the women who witness to the love of Jesus Christ in your life!

"More Courageous than the Men"

By now, you've probably heard about or seen a video making the rounds in which a group of male pastor-types are yukking it up for the enjoyment of their audience by disparaging Beth Moore and all other women preachers, not to mention taking a jab at #MeToo.  As a United Methodist elder who happens to be a woman, I just want to point out a few things.

(1) Jesus thought women could be trusted to be the first to report on his resurrection, which is at the heart of the gospel proclamation, so who are you to say otherwise?

(2) Jesus never told women to "go home" and not to worry their pretty little heads about such weighty matters as theology.  In fact, there were women disciples who traveled around with him and who were part of the 70 who were sent out on a mission.

(3) Women in ministry, including preaching ministry, are part of the early fiber and fabric of Wesleyan Methodism, partly because of the wise example of Susanna Wesley and lived out in the lives of women like Sarah Crosby, Sarah Ryan, Mary Bosanquet Fletcher, and many others.  John took a little persuading but came to see that their ministry of preaching was an "extraordinary call" from God.

(4) The Wesley hymns that were sung and used for meditative and devotional purposes were part of the soundtrack of Methodism and shaped the theology and practices of the folk who sang them.  So consider this: Charles Wesley did not hesitate to extol those female witnesses to the resurrection as more courageous than the male disciples, as filled with grace, as proclaimers of the good news, and as teachers of the other apostles in this verse of the following hymn:

More courageous than the men,
when Christ his breath resign'd,
Women first the grace obtain
Their living Lord to find,
Women first the news proclaim,
Know his resurrection's power
Teach th' Apostles of the Lamb
who lives to die no more!

So, my sisters, keep preaching, keep teaching, keep proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ with holy boldness!  You are not alone; you are filled with grace, and the very Spirit of God dwells within you!

Being More Vile

items featuring early Methodist preacher Mary Bosanquet Fletcher
World Methodist Museum, Lake Junaluska, NC

For the past 3 years, I have felt like I have a book inside me just waiting to be born.  Going on the Wesley Pilgrimage in 2016 with Discipleship Ministries, spending my sabbatical in the UK and doing research in the Methodist Archives, reading masses of early Methodist writings at home, and of course, writing this blog and running my Travels With Wesley Facebook page have all been part of the process.  I feel like I have been gathering momentum so that I could actually sit down and commit something to ... the computer, if not actually to paper yet.

But the two things that really pushed me over the edge and made me sit down and get going happened fairly recently.  First, while I was in the UK this summer, going through the process to become Recognised and Regarded in the Methodist Church in Britain and preaching in the Hebrides, I was asked to write a short devotional piece for an email ministry called Encouragements that is just getting started in my Annual Conference.  The result was a short bit of writing using the words of Mary Bosanquet Fletcher as a way of supporting women in ministry.

Because I'm on transition leave but want to be available for preaching or making presentations on the Wesleys, I had posted about it on Facebook, whereupon a clergywoman at Lake Junaluska asked if I'd be interested in helping with a project at the World Methodist Museum.  The museum is redesigning some of its exhibits, so she felt my interest in all things Wesley would be useful.  If you read my last post, you know that I spent several days up there to get a feel for what small contribution I might make, so I won't repeat all that.  But you can see the stealthy convergence of opportunities beginning to draw me in, can't you?  I cannot believe that it is mere coincidence; I believe the time is now for me to make a real beginning on this book.

Susanna Annesley Wesley, Mother of Methodism

The museum is filled with wondrous items -- and they have even more that can't be displayed because of lack of space.  It was quickly apparent to me that I would have to make a decision about what I could actually assist with, so not surprisingly, my focus is on Susanna Wesley and early Methodist women like Mary Bosanquet Fletcher.  As a result, I sat down yesterday and all day today, using that short devotional piece as a model and busied myself with writing and writing and then writing some more.

There is something unutterably precious about reading the words these women wrote.  In the midst of a rapidly changing world in the 18th century and with the challenges and limitations placed on them as women, they exercised agency, not for themselves alone but for the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Mary Bosanquet Fletcher, in writing of her unusual preaching ministry, echoed the words made famous by John Wesley when speaking of his foray into the unpredictable and unconventional world of field preaching.  Wesley is remembered for saying that he "submitted to be more vile" as he ventured into outdoor preaching; similarly, Mary wrote:

I am conscious how ridiculous I must appear in the eyes of many for so doing. Therefore, if some persons consider me an impudent woman, and represent me as such, I cannot blame them... Besides, I do nothing but what Mr. Wesley approves; and as to reproach thrown by some on me, what have I to do with it, but quietly go forward saying, I will be still more vile, if my Lord requires it.

She also wrote:

If I have a word to speak from [God], he will make my way. If not, the door will be shut. I am only to shew the meekness of wisdom, and leave all to God. 

Not a bad attitude!  And so, with Mary I will commit myself to be still more vile and will leave it up to God to either open or close the door on this venture.  May I be given the same measure of both determination and meekness of wisdom that she exemplified!

There Are Places I Remember

Lake Junaluska

If you, like me, are a Beatles fan, you saw the title of this post and immediately acquired an earworm: 

There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some are gone, and some remain

The song goes on to say that each of these places call to mind particular friends and lovers but assures the listener that "in my life, I love you more." (Now I know you just sang in your best falsetto along with John Lennon -- "in myyyyy life!")

There are places that stick in our memories, places that bring back specific joys or griefs, places that call to mind particular people, places that leave an imprint not only on the mind but also on the soul, places that become "our" places sometimes for reasons we can barely understand or articulate.  I'm fortunate enough to have visited two of those places within the span of a few months:  Iona and Lake Junaluska.  Iona has certainly had its mention in earlier posts, and I have also talked about Junaluska a time or two, so I doubt anyone who knows me is surprised by this.  No doubt, I'll continue to write about them in the future!

For United Methodists in the Southeastern Jurisdiction, Lake Junaluska is a little bit of heaven tucked into the corner of Haywood County, North Carolina.  Perhaps not coincidentally, the area resembles Scotland's highlands and islands a bit with its beautiful lake, ancient rocks and mountains, and the (usually) crisp, cool air.  Because of its historical importance and close ties to the SEJ, and the fact that the World Methodist Museum is located here, it's not surprising that a lot of Methodist pastors and leaders retire here. 

I'm here this week volunteering at the World Methodist Museum in the hopes that I can help them with some of their restructuring of exhibits and creating text to accompany them.  My interest in early Methodism, especially the various roles taken by women in the movement, will be useful as we look at the relevant displays and envision ways to tell the story more expansively.  As I have explored the museum and spent time drinking in the outdoor beauty of the area, I have posted some pictures on Facebook, which has elicited some interesting comments and conversations about the places which have been the sites of challenge and commitment and peace and healing for some of my friends.  These are what the Celts called "thin places" where the line between the everyday physical world and the invisible spirit world (not that there truly is a dichotomy) becomes very thin and indeed may disappear altogether.

Lake Junaluska

John Wesley traveled extensively in the British Isles and Ireland and even had the experience of living in Georgia for a short time.  In his journal, he often records his impressions of his surroundings.  On July 3, 1788 he was back in his home county of Lincolnshire and visited his friend Robert Carr Brackenbury to preach in the little chapel above the stables at his home.  Wesley writes:

We went to Raithby: an earthly paradise! How gladly would I rest here a few days; but it is not my place! I am to be a wanderer upon earth. Only let me find rest in a better world!
At six I preached in the church to such a congregation as I never saw here before; but I do not wonder if all the country should flock in thither, to a palace in the midst of paradise.

I visited Raithby two years ago when I was on sabbatical, and it is indeed a lovely chapel set in a quiet village on the beautiful grounds of Raithby Hall, and it was like going back in time to stand in the pulpit of that Grade I listed building.   It had a peaceful atmosphere, but I probably wouldn't have called it "a palace in the midst of paradise." I wonder what it was that made Wesley gush -- this is not his usual type of description of a particular location.  Apparently for him it was one of those special places that he would always remember with particular fondness.  Perhaps he had a feeling of belonging when he visited there that he didn't often experience elsewhere.  Impossible to say, of course, but having been drawn to my own versions of paradise, I think I'm on to something.

Raithby by Spilsby

If you think about it, there are probably significant locales that are special to you for similar reasons.  Perhaps you felt a sense of God's nearness in a new way there.  It might have been where you began to heal from a major disappointment or grief.  Maybe it was the arena where brand new ideas were presented, resulting in a change in your life.  It could be beyond the power of words to explain -- you just know it is "your place."

I invite you to take a few moments to call to mind one of those holy spots.  You might want to sit with your eyes closed, visualizing it, or you may have a picture you'd like to look at.  Either way, take time to give thanks to God for that place and for the memories that it brings up.  Ask for it to continue to be a reminder of grace in your life, as you feel the Holy Spirit at work within your heart. 

There are places I remember ...

The Genuine Christian

As I await the next steps in my journey towards serving in the Methodist Church in Britain, I am  auditing a course at Duke Divinity School.  Ably taught by Dr. Randy Maddox, the class is called Wesleyan Foundations for Mission, Practice, and Belief.  As we look closely at Wesley's writings, it is inspiring and encouraging to see how relevant they are to the challenges of today.

One of the primary texts we have read is John Wesley's A Plain Account of Genuine Christianity (1753). In this excerpt from his long letter to Conyers Middleton, he addresses a number of issues including the question of just exactly how to identify or define a genuine Christian.

This is not a settled question even in our day, for there are some who gleefully define those with whom they disagree as "non-Christian" or worse.  Just this week, a well-known evangelist was in Fayetteville to hold a large rally meant to evangelize as many people as possible.  The advance publicity and marketing was breath-taking in its scope, and there were literally van-loads of people coming from all around.  It happens that I don't agree with many of the interpretations of Scripture and resulting positions he holds on any number of topics, so I joined a group of about 30 like-minded Christians from a number of denominations who stood across the street from his event, not to protest but to offer an alternative viewpoint.

We gave out bottles of water and hand-held fans to passersby as we sang hymns and held signs that proclaimed our belief that it is our job to love all our neighbors because of God's love for us.  It was a small way of saying that there are other ways of understanding how we ought to live and act in this world based on the same Scripture, worshiping the same God, claiming the same Jesus, being moved by the same Spirit.  Unfortunately, there are some folks who decided we must not be real Christians because we don't subscribe to the exact same formula of beliefs they hold.  The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Wesley discussed and yes, argued with any number of people on the major theological issues of his day, and he was sometimes quite sharp-tongued and sarcastic!  He was a keen debater with a gift for zeroing in on the matter at hand and getting to the heart of the matter with precision.  In disagreeing with Middleton, he writes with controlled passion, first framing, then addressing this question of who is a real Christian:

Section I.1. I would consider first, Who is a Christian indeed? What does that term properly imply? It has been so long abused I fear—not only to mean nothing at all but, what was far worse than nothing, to be a cloak for the vilest hypocrisy, for the grossest abominations and immoralities of every kind—that ’tis high time to rescue it out of the hands of wretches that are a reproach to human nature, to show determinately what manner of man he is to whom this name of right belongs.

As he builds his argument, he keeps coming back to the same theme that permeates his sermons, his letters, his journal entries, and his brother's hymns -- Love.  Wesley points to God's initial act of reaching out to us with love first, an act of prevenient grace that enables us to turn to God and begin to become more loving and therefore more like Christ through the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit. He elaborates on this theme of love for ALL, not just those who look, act, or believe like us:

Above all, remembering that God is love, he is conformed to the same likeness. He is full of love to his neighbour—of universal love, not confined to one sect or party, not restrained to those who agree with him in opinions or in outward modes of worship, or to those who are allied to him by blood or recommended by nearness of place. Neither does he love those only that love him or that are endeared to him by intimacy of acquaintance. But his love resembles that of him whose mercy is over all his works.6 It soars above all these scanty bounds, embracing neighbours and strangers, friends and enemies; yea, not only the good and gentle but also the froward, the evil and unthankful. For he loves every soul that God has made, every child of man of whatever place or nation. And yet this universal benevolence does in no wise interfere with a peculiar regard for his relations, friends, and benefactors; a fervent love for his country; and the most endeared affection to all men of integrity, of clear and generous virtue.

Wesley is not arguing for a particular Church or movement.  He does not imply that the only true Christians are the Methodists who are in good standing in the Church of England; rather, he holds out the notion that it is those who are being shaped to live in a Christlike way who are genuine Christians.  Such persons cannot help but love EVERYONE out of this deep love that originates in and with God.  The depths of this love cannot be plumbed, and the resulting happiness felt by such a person comes from an assurance of that love.  A genuine Christian:

... is peculiarly and inexpressibly happy in the clearest and fullest conviction, ‘This all-powerful, all-wise, all-gracious being, this governor of all, loves me. This lover of my soul is always with me, is never absent, no not for a moment. And I love him. There is none in heaven but thee, none on earth that I desire beside thee!10 And he has given me to resemble himself. He has stamped his image on my heart. And I live unto him. I do only his will. I glorify him with my body and my spirit. And it will not be long before I shall die unto him. I shall die into the arms of God. And then farewell sin and pain. Then it only remains that I should live with Him for ever.’

The question for you and for me as we examine our own lives is how closely we conform to this understanding of a Christian as someone who is so completely shaped and formed by the love of God that she/he pours out that same love upon EVERYONE, freely, joyfully, generously.  Are you, am I, the kind of person who is so filled with the Spirit that we know that the lover of our souls is always with us, "is never absent, no not for a moment?"  And if the answer to that is "no," then why not?   I close with Wesley's words:

Do you (at least) desire it? I would to God that desire may penetrate your inmost soul, and that you may have no rest in your spirit till you are—not only almost, but altogether—a Christian!

You're on Tiree Time

Teapot at the Beachcomber Cafe near the Tiree airport

It reads: "You're on Tiree Time" ("Tiree" being represented by the outline of the island)

"Though I am always in haste, I am never in a hurry; because I never undertake any more work than I can go through with perfect calmness of spirit."  This is one of those pithy sayings of John Wesley that is frequently cited as a reminder that we should aim to get as much done as possible without getting flustered and out of sorts. 

It is usually quoted in a somewhat scoffing manner as if to say that we have it so much harder than did John Wesley.  After all, he lived in a simpler age, as they say.  He wasn't surrounded by the hustle and bustle of automobiles and trains and planes.  He didn't have to contend with the relentless expectation of being reachable 24/7 because of the advent of email and cell phones.  He didn't have the demands of a parish full of needy congregants, nor did he have the clamor of babies or the moodiness of teenagers to contend with at home.  He wasn't subject to answering machines or voicemail and the constant babble of voices pressing him to do something or be somewhere every minute of every day.

Well, I'll let you be the one to tell him that you have a more pressing schedule or a more activity-packed life!  The recipient of his letter tried that, and it didn't work well.  This is a man who consistently got up at 4 or 5 AM, prayed, preached, rode a horse/walked/took a carriage to another place where he again preached, and then traveled even further down the road only to preach again.  Without the climate-controlled comfort of a car gliding along on nicely paved asphalt roads, he itinerated around England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, day in and day out, year after year, propelled by his call to preach the gospel to as many people as possible for as long as possible.  Sometimes his timetable was disrupted, and he had to go with plan B,C, or even Z in order to accomplish his tasks.  Yet in the midst of all the hubbub, he never dispensed with his hours of prayer or regular time devoted to reading and meditating on scripture.

Even today, travel is unpredictable.  Planes don't always arrive or take off on time.  Trains may be halted by bad weather.  Cars sometimes refuse to start.  Life itself doesn't follow a strict schedule, and our best-laid plans often don't pan out the way we wish.  There's just so much that has to be done!  With all the busy-ness of everyday life, it's hard to make time for daily prayer and scripture reading.  It's not easy to arrange things in order to visit a sick friend or take a meal to the homeless shelter or attend a meeting at church.  Being a Christian is just so challenging! There's only so much that one can do, right?

This is not an excuse that is exclusive to our age, and it would not have been an unfamiliar complaint to John Wesley.  In his rounds of preaching, teaching, and nurturing the faith of his Methodists, he frequently had to gently or sometimes not so gently correct, direct, and even push people into sorting out their priorities so they could be examples of holiness of heart and life.  Consider the letter to Miss J.C. March from which the quotation above is taken. 

In Wesley's wholistic understanding of salvation, there is no room for NOT making time and space in one's life for works of piety like studying scripture, praying, and attending worship and for acts of mercy like visiting the imprisoned, caring for the sick, or providing for the poor.  Such acts were considered means of grace by which one grew ever more into the likeness and image of God, and they simply weren't optional for those desiring to be disciples of Jesus Christ.  He frequently wrote to women and men who were struggling in their Christian journey to encourage and prod them into action.  Often those admonitions took the form of leading by example, by giving a rationale of  his own use of time, as seen here, and he was not above needling the person into reflecting upon the question of whether or not they are settling rather than seeking to be made perfect in love.

Such is the case in his correspondence with Miss March.  Over a span of fifteen or more years, she wrote to him with her concerns, and he responded, sometimes bluntly, by pointing her beyond her life of ease and wealth and her desire for seclusion in order to tend to her spiritual life.  Apparently she told him that she couldn't add tending to the poor and sick to her schedule lest she become overly busy as poor Mr. Wesley himself clearly was.  His response is a masterpiece of explaining that he found occasions for seclusion and for calmness of spirit even in the midst of his whirl of activity and that both are necessary for a robust Christian life.  He writes:

You do not at all understand my manner of life. Though I am always in haste, I am never in a hurry; because I never undertake any more work than I can go through with perfect calmness of spirit. It is true I travel four or five thousand miles in a year. But I generally travel alone in my carriage, and consequently am as retired ten hours in a day as if I was in a wilderness. On other days I never spend less than three hours (frequently ten or twelve) in the day alone. So there are few persons in the kingdom who spend so many hours secluded from all company. Yet I find time to visit the sick and the poor; and I must do it, if I believe the Bible, if I believe these are the marks whereby the Shepherd of Israel will know and judge His sheep at the great day; therefore, when there is time and opportunity for it, who can doubt but this is matter of absolute duty? When I was at Oxford, and lived almost like an hermit, I saw not how any busy man could be saved. I scarce thought it possible for a man to retain the Christian spirit amidst the noise and bustle of the world. God taught me better by my own experience. I had ten times more business in America (that is, at intervals) than ever I had in my life. But it was no hindrance to silence of spirit.

Mr. Boehm was Chaplain to Prince George of Denmark, Secretary to him and Queen Anne, principal manager of almost all the public charities in the kingdom, and employed in numberless private charities. An intimate friend, knowing this, said to him when they were alone, 'Sir, are you not hurt by that amazing hurry of business? I have seen you in your office, surrounded with people, listening to one, dictating to another, and at the same time writing to a third; could you then retain a sense of the presence of God? ' He answered, 'All that company and all that business no more hindered or lessened my communion with God than if I had been all alone in a church kneeling before the communion table.' Was it not the same case with him to whom Gregory Lopez said, ' Go and be an hermit in Mexico'? I am concerned for you; I am sorry you should be content with lower degrees of usefulness and holiness than you are called to. But I cannot help it: so I submit; and am still, my dear Miss March,

Yours in sincere affection.
J. Wesley

How like Miss March I sometimes am!  I am easily enraptured with the thought of silence, of time devoted to reading, of retreat and contemplation, and I, too, am prone to think that more important than actively getting my hands dirty, so to speak, by engaging with real people and their real struggles.  But Wesley -- and Jesus! -- are not content with that, nor do they wish you or me to be content with that kind of lazy thinking.  Engagement with the poor, the sick, the prisoner, the refugee, the outsider, the needy and broken is an important, no, necessary aspect of Christian living not only because it leads to love and providing relief for their needs but because it causes us to grow in grace.  It fashions us into people who are not simply forgiven but who want to be made holy, people who are daily growing more like the One we follow.  It is to live a life in the Spirit that renews and remakes us, giving grace upon grace upon grace.  My time with the people of Tiree gave me an opportunity to slow down, to live on "Tiree time," which is much less harried than my usual life.  There were times of simply looking with wonder at the beauty of the natural world with gratitude; there were also times of planning worship without the aid of a computer and of sitting at the beside of someone drifting slowly on the borders of death, and grace was there in and through it all. "Tiree Time,"  like the journey of Christian discipleship, includes both.

I invite you to examine your own life and how you spend your time.  Look at your calendar or cell phone or whatever you use to track your schedule.  Are you balancing your days between inward and outward acts of holiness?  How might you arrange your time differently in order to live more faithfully?  Do you have companions who assist you along the way, friends who will lovingly hold you accountable?  If not, talk with a pastor or other Christian friend who can help you figure that out, and pray for the grace to allow the Spirit to help you make any necessary changes in your pattern of daily living.  May you find that your sense of communion with God is strengthened, not lessened, by it!