Make The Welkin Ring!

Charles Wesley (window at Memorial Chapel, Lake Junaluska)

I really should have posted this back during Advent or at least earlier in the Christmas season because tomorrow is Epiphany, and no one will be singing "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" OR "Hark, How all the Welkin Rings" for a while.   However, while Advent and Christmas may not necessarily be "the most wonderful time of the year," it is a fact that they are the busiest time of the year for clergy, and it has taken the slow-down of the early days of the new year and a bit of snowfall for me to get down to thinking about this blog again.

We three pastors took turns preaching on various Christmas carols, and naturally, I just had to have Charles Wesley's best-known carol, the one he simply called  "Hymn for Christmas Day."  Back in July, I held the manuscript in my own hands, marveling at the still-legible words he penned to express the idea that the whole cosmos, everything in heaven and on earth, was praising God at the birth of Jesus.  With his use of the archaic word "welkin" and his reference to "universal nature," Wesley emphasized that the coming of Christ signaled the restoration of the broken creation in its entirety and not simply the redemption of fallen humanity. 

The lyrics have gone through some changes over the 278 years since it was written, including the unauthorized edit by George Whitefield that left us with the first verse as we know it today, removing both the welkin and universal nature and subtly changing the theological focus of the hymn.  Nevertheless, it is fair to say that this carol expresses the deep mystery of the Incarnation in a way unparalleled by any other. 

In singing these words, we rejoice that God’s love for us is so fierce, so all-consuming, and so indestructible that nothing else would do except to come right down here and be present with us in the grit and grime of our messy lives, meeting us when we are most lost, most broken, most needy, restoring us to the image of God and reconciling all things in creation to God.  That is the gift we celebrate during Christmas, and it is the good news that we are to live out and witness to in every season.  I pray that 2018 will be a year in which you make the welkin ring with the glad tidings that the Word continues to meet us right where we are, while loving us far too much to leave us there.    I will close with Charles Wesley's original words --

 1. Hark, how all the Welkin rings
" Glory to the King of Kings,
" Peace on Earth, and Mercy mild,
" GOD and Sinners reconcil'd !

2. Joyful all ye Nations rise,
Join the Triumph of the Skies;
Universal Nature say,
" Christ the Lord is born to Day!

3. Christ, by highest Heav'n ador'd,
Christ, the Everlasting Lord,
Late in Time behold him come,
Offspring of a Virgin's Womb.

4. Veil'd in Flesh, the Godhead see,
Hail th' Incarnate Deity !
Pleas'd as Man with Men t'appear,
Jesus, our Immanuel here !

5. Hail the Heav'nly Prince of Peace !
Hail the Sun of Righteousness !
Light and Life to All he brings,
Ris'n with Healing in his Wings.

6. Mild he lays his Glory by ;
Born ; that Man no more may die,
Born ; to raise the Sons of Earth,
Born ; to give them Second Birth.

7. Come, Desire of Nations, come,
Fix in Us thy humble Home,
Rise, the Woman's Conqu'ring Seed,
Bruise in Us the Serpent's Head.

8. Now display thy saving Pow'r,
Ruin'd Nature now restore,
Now in Mystic Union join
Thine to Ours, and Ours to Thine.

9. Adam's likeness, Lord, efface,
Stamp thy Image in its Place,
Second Adam from above,
Reinstate us in thy Love.

10. Let us Thee, tho' lost, regain,
Thee, the Life, the Heav'nly Man:
O ! to All Thyself impart,
Form'd in each Believing Heart.

"They praise the Lamb in hymns above, And we in hymns below"

John Calvin (left) and John Wesley (right) at the John Rylands Library, Manchester

It's November 1, the beginning of my least favorite month, partly because the skies tend to become gloomy, the trees (except for the pines) become bare, and the temperature drops.  But mostly, I dislike November because my mother died on November 16, 2010, and that has left a hole in my heart that nothing can fill.  This morning, I felt a bit melancholy as I turned the page of the calendar over, until I remembered something else about November, something that carries joy within it even though it is also tinged with grief.

November 1 is a somewhat neglected holy day among Protestants, though some churches are finally starting to value and celebrate it as All Saints Day.  It is a time set apart to give thanks to God for the gift of the life and love and example of the faithful ones who have preceded us in death. 

As I write this, today is All Saints Day, a time to reflect and remember them, a day to pay special attention to that phrase in the Creed about the "communion of the saints."  John Wesley had a great fondness for this holy day.  He mentioned its importance to him on several different occasions in his journal, calling it "a festival I truly love," and "a day I peculiarly love."

On All Saints Day in 1788, his journal records his thoughts: "I always find this a comfortable day." Comfortable, not like a warm, cozy sweater, but comfortable in the sense of consoling, of encouraging, of soothing and even strengthening.  Mr. Wesley lived to be nearly 88 years old, outliving his parents, his not-so-beloved wife, and all but one sibling, Martha, and she died a few months after him and is buried in the same grave. 

He knew the keen edge of grief, but he also knew the "sure and certain hope of resurrection to eternal life in Jesus Christ," and trusted that not only those well-known saints but also the ordinary faithful folk are gathered into God's loving presence. In the Holy Spirit, we, too, are part of that communion of saints with those we love but see no more.  As Charles Wesley wrote:

The Church triumphant in his love,
Their mighty joys we know;
They praise the Lamb in hymns above,
And we in hymns below.

So together with John Wesley and John Calvin (both pictured above), with my mother and with those whom you name as saints in your life, let us join the everlasting chorus of praise, rejoicing that, if we also are faithful: "Our spirits too shall quickly join, like theirs with glory crowned!"

United in Love

The above picture was taken last weekend.  I was officiating at the wedding of a former parishioner whom I've known since she was a sophomore in high school.  Because marriage, the uniting of two people in love is a joyous occasion, it is customary to wear a white stole, and because I am a United Methodist pastor, I decided this was a great occasion for this one featuring our cross and flame.  The irony of this is that the wedding was taking place in a Presbyterian church.  But the greater irony is that this beautiful symbol, a cross with a double flame, which was created when two streams of  the Christian faith (the Methodist Church and the Evangelical United Brethren) flowed together in 1968, may soon become only a relic of a failed attempt at unity in love.   The United Methodist Church trembles at the brink of divorce, not along lines of the former EUB or Methodist traditions but between competing ideas about how best to live out the Wesleyan Christian heritage with regard to the hot-button issues of the day, especially homosexuality.

According to umc.org, “the Commission on a Way Forward was proposed by the Council of Bishops and approved by the 2016 General Conference to do a complete examination and possible revision of every paragraph of the Book of Discipline concerning human sexuality and explore options that help to maintain and strengthen the unity of the church.”  A daunting, and some would say, impossible task.  Just what such a "way forward" might actually look like is anybody’s guess, and truthfully, the outlook is grim.  The United Methodist Church will turn 50 in 2018, but when the Commission presents its recommendations to the called General Conference scheduled for February 23-26, 2019, it could well mark the end of the line for the UMC as we know it.

Every possible opinion has been or is being expressed, and not surprisingly, every side is staking its claims based both on its particular interpretation of scripture and by appealing to the sermons and writings of John Wesley.  In a sermon entitled “On Schism,” Wesley states:

To separate ourselves from a body of living Christian, with whom we were before united, is a grievous breach of the law of love. It is the nature of love to unite us together; and the greater the love, the stricter the union. And while this continues in its strength, nothing can divide those whom love has united. It is only when our love grows cold, that we can think of separating from our brethren. And this is certainly the case with any who willingly separate from their Christian brethren. The pretences for separation may be innumerable, but want of love is always the real cause; otherwise they would still hold the unity of he Spirit in the bound of peace. It is therefore contrary to all those commands of God, wherein brotherly love is enjoined: To that of St. Paul, "Let brotherly love continue:" -- that of St. John, "My beloved children, love one another;" -- and especially to that of our blessed Master, "This is my commandment, That ye love on another, as I have loved you" Yea, "By this," saith he, "shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love one another."

I don’t know what will happen in the next couple of years in the UMC, but I am grieved by the lack of love that some of us are displaying.  Wesley was no “believe what you want to believe” kind of guy, but he was adamant that our spirits should not be sharpened against others with whom we disagree. He was fond of 2 Kings 2 10: 15, “And when he was departed thence, he lighted on Jehonadab the son of Rechab coming to meet him, and he saluted him, and said to him, Is thine heart right, as my heart is with thy heart? And Jehonadab answered: It is. If it be, give me thine hand.”  In reflection upon that text, Wesley preached that we need not be of the same opinions in order to work hand in hand or to love one another.  Just how we might apply this to the current state of affairs in the UMC is not completely clear, but the injunction for Christians to love each other as Christ first loved us must surely be the foundation of any discussion and of all decisions.  I close with these words from his sermon “Catholic Spirit:”

I mean, Lastly, love me not in word only, but in deed and in truth. So far as in conscience thou canst (retaining still thy own opinions, and thy own manner of worshipping God), join with me in the work of God; and let us go on hand in hand. And thus far, it is certain, thou mayest go. Speak honourably wherever thou art, of the work of God, by whomsoever he works, and kindly of his messengers. And, if it be in thy power, not only sympathize with them when they are in any difficulty or distress, but give them a cheerful and effectual assistance, that they may glorify God on thy behalf.

Some wise words to ponder, not only for those who love the United Methodist Church, but for all of us who are called by Christ’s name as we live alongside others who may see things differently from us.

A Word about the John Rylands Library and Enriqueta Rylands

One of the most important places from my sabbatical journey, the John Rylands Library, has received very little attention from me in this blog.  Part of the University of Manchester Library system, it was created over 100 years ago by the generosity of Enriqueta Rylands to honor the memory of her husband John Rylands, Manchester's first multi-millionaire. Rather than spending all that textile-industry money on herself, Enriqueta Rylands determined to give a lasting gift to the people of Manchester, a public library like no other.  During her lifetime, she spent hundreds of thousands of pounds to purchase books and manuscripts, and upon her death, bequests from her will enabled the library to continue expanding and adding to its collections.  Note that the last line of the above plaque states that "Enriqueta invites you to your library." (Emphasis mine)

Work on the building began in 1890, and the library opened on 1 January 1900, becoming part of The University of Manchester in 1972.  It holds the Special Collections of the University of Manchester, and most importantly, for my purposes, it houses the world's largest collection of Methodist archives. The Methodist Church of Great Britain established the Methodist Archives and Research Centre (MARC) in 1961 at John Wesley's Chapel in London, but in 1977 it was transferred to the John Rylands. MARC holds the world’s largest collection of manuscripts relating to the Wesley family, including approximately 5,000 letters, notebooks and associated papers of the period 1700–1865. According to their website, the John Rylands is part of the third largest academic library in the United Kingdom, with over 250,000 printed volumes, and well over a million manuscripts and archival items.  You can see that this was an exciting place for me to visit and explore!

In 1843, Enriqueta was born in Havana, Cuba to Stephen Cattley Tennant, an English sugar merchant, and his Spanish wife, Juana Camila Dalcou. Enriqueta grew up in New York, London, and Paris, and she moved to Manchester to be a companion to Martha Rylands, marrying John Rylands some eight months after Martha's death.  Enriqueta and John shared a passion for education and were members of the Congregational Church rather than the established Church of England, so she decided a public library that leaned towards collection of Nonconformist religious literature would be a fitting memorial to him.

She was the very opposite of the Rich Fool in Luke 12: 13-21 who decided that the crops and money and other riches that came his way belonged to him and him alone.  That young man pulled down his small barns in order to construct bigger, better ones, only to find that his wealth counted for nothing in the eyes of  God and that he could not take it with him upon his death.  Enriqueta no doubt enjoyed the perks of marriage and widowhood to a wealthy industrialist, but she saw clearly that the way of love, the way of the Christ she worshipped, demanded that she give freely, liberally, graciously to others rather than hoarding her money and spending it lavishly on things that do not last.  She believed in the kind of gift that keeps on giving, the kind of legacy that blesses others even more than the giver herself.

The top floor of the John Rylands is the research area/Rare Book Room, and I spent many hours hunched over precious letters written to and from John Wesley, Susanna Wesley, and others.  There I discovered Charles Wesley treasures, manuscript hymns written in his spidery but precise hand.  And there I felt my heart strangely warmed by the ongoing gift of a woman long dead, a woman whose love for her husband and for her God still extends an invitation to the people of Manchester and from far beyond to come and study and read. Enriqueta holds a special place in my heart for her generosity and her good stewardship of the resources that came into her life.   As you think about the stewardship of your own resources, how do you think  God might be calling you to bless others?  Are you listening for the Spirit's voice?

And just for fun, enjoy this picture from the main floor of the library.  Many different figures from the world of religion and education are found there, including these two.

John Calvin (left) and John Wesley (right) playing together nicely at the John Rylands

The Second Breath/Practicing the Pause

Flowers at the Old Rectory, Epworth

I mentioned in an earlier post that my readjustment to life back at home and at work is tougher than I had anticipated.  Well, the book my two book groups are reading this fall is called Wrestling with Grace:  A Spirituality for the Rough Edges of Daily Life by Robert Corin Morris.  One of the first things he emphasizes is taking a second breath before reacting, before speaking, before well, just about everything.  It's sometimes called "practicing the pause," and it's an invitation to stop that immediate response that arises when we stub our toe, get stuck in line, or feel insulted. It's about taking a moment to allow the Spirit of God to enter in and help us settle into a different mode of being, of being present in the moment and allowing blessing to flow instead of cursing.

The picture of flowers in this blog is one small gift from my sabbatical that is helping me to take a second breath.  I have no idea if Susanna and the Wesleys had flowers in their yard.  They certainly had crops like barley and wheat, but I'd like to think that the shade trees and masses of colorful blooms that are there now might be representative of what her yard might have looked then.  And I'd like to think that she occasionally went outside to escape her brood of energetic children to consider the lilies or daisies or phlox of her field.

If you are feeling harried or stressed out, sit with this picture and imagine walking in the soft green grass under the lovely shade trees, taking in the glory of these waving blossoms, feeling a gentle breeze waft across your face and tousle your hair.  May the Holy Spirit help you to be still, to be present, to be filled with peace as you picture yourself quietly being receptive to God. Practice this daily, for just a few moments, with or without words, and let Christ be formed in your heart, and you may find that you are being shaped and remade into his image, completely filled with love for God and neighbor.

Real People

When I first started thinking about my sabbatical, it was with vague thoughts of making some small contribution to the field of Wesley studies, but that probably isn't going to be the outcome of this venture.  I simply didn't have time to explore the masses of material held at the John Rylands, but being there whetted my appetite, and I learned new things, and perhaps I will write some sort of devotional rather than an academic piece.

One thing I discovered is real people.  Remember the TV show by that name in the late 1970's/early 1980's?  Well, these were real people who struggled with their health and worried about their children and prayed for God to be real to them.  John Wesley, while a gifted and Spirit-filled preacher, had a wretchedly unhappy marriage, and as is the case with most things, there was plenty of blame to go 'round.  Charles Wesley thought his brother was going too far with some of his actions that took the Methodist movement slowly but steadily out of the Anglican fold, and he blasted him in verse, and oh, yeah, he didn't exactly help with John's love life.  (That is perhaps the subject of another post sometime later.) 

Sarah Ryan had a bit of a checkered past, rather like the Samaritan woman, a bit like Charles and John's sister Hetty, and she became a leader of a class, a surrogate mother in an orphanage, a preacher, and a Mother in the faith to other preaching women like Mary Bosanquet Fletcher, who was before, during, and after her marriage an example of a woman exhibiting a gospel-changed, Christ-focused life.  She was half of a clergy couple before such things even existed, and between her preaching, pastoral care, and spiritual direction (especially of women), she became known as a "Mother in Israel," high praise from Wesley and other Methodist leaders indeed!  She left masses of written material, a treasure trove of letters, manuscripts of a sermon or two, an account of the life of her friend Sarah Ryan, and more.  Someday, perhaps, I will revisit the John Rylands and delve more deeply into the riches of her written legacy.

And then coming back again to John Wesley.  Here was a man whose passion for  God sustained him through threats of violence, pain and heartbreak, grief, loss, and spiritual uncertainty, taking him in directions he never imagined or even wanted. He sometimes gave rough, seemingly unfeeling counsel, yet he ruthlessly applied the same to himself.  Into old age, with fading eyesight, wavering hand-writing, quavering voice, and failing physical strength, he could write in a letter at age 86, a few months before his death,"But all is well:  I can still write almost as easily as ever, and I can read in a clear light; and I think, if I could not read or write at all, I could still say something for God."

His voice and hands are now stilled in death, yet he still has something to say for God.    Among his last words were these:  "The best of all is, God is with us."  And the epitaph on his tombstone, not written by him, contains these words, after several glowing, mellifluous phrases --
"Reader, if thou art constrained to bless the instrument, give God the glory."  To that, he would heartily agree because even in death, he is still pointing to the one his brother called the Lover of our souls.  And for that, and so much more, thanks be to God!

Living in the Midst of So Much History

If you have ever been to England or Scotland, you know that there's a lot of old stuff there -- houses, statues, graveyards, churches, castles, papers, etc.  It's always a bit of a shock to me as an American where "old" is anything 200 years old to come face to face with a parish church built in the 1400's (Theddlethorpe St. Helen's) or a document (Magna Carta) dating back to 1215 or a castle from the 1000's (Lincoln Castle).

When I was in Epworth, Lincolnshire, I stayed for twelve days at the Red Lion, a a coaching inn so old that it is mentioned in the Domesday Book of the 11th century, and it just happens to be where John Wesley slept whenever he returned to preach in his hometown.  After his father's death in 1735, the family had to vacate the Old Rectory, so when he came back to Epworth, this was pretty much the only place to stay. His first visit to the Red Lion was apparently in 1742, and this is commemorated by a blue historical placque next to the front entrance.  I jokingly suggested they add one that mentioned my first visit in 2017, but they see far too many odd Methodist types to take me very seriously.  ;-)

                            

Being surrounded by so many visible reminders of people who have gone before was exciting and maybe a bit intimidating, and I wondered how living in that milieu affected those who have never known anything different.  Might it be easy to be a little blasé about seeing venerable buildings day in and day out or to walk the same village streets once frequented by notable people who quite literally changed the world?

As I traveled, I posed that question to people living in various places, and they all stopped to give it some serious thought.  To a person, they all admitted that it's something they almost take for granted.  Scott and I laughed when the young man in Castlebay, Isle of Barra, told us in an offhand way to "have fun at the castle," like it was no big deal to take a small boat into the harbor to explore Kisimul Castle, but he's probably seen that tiny fortress every day for all of his 19 years, so it doesn't hold the mystique it surely did for us!

                              

It made me ponder the things back home that I don't really see or appreciate nearly often enough. I may not have an ancient cathedral in my backyard or own a chair that Susanna Wesley sat in, but what is unique and special in my life? And who is unique and special in my life?  Tragedies and accidents and losses usually make us stop for at least a moment, but it passes, and we go right back to acting the same old way.

But what if we made a conscious effort to remember how short and precious life is?  What if we developed a habit of not only thanking God for the blessings in our lives but of expressing our love and delight to those significant people who grace our existence?  What if we saw that we, too, live in the midst of history, common-place though it may seem?  With the Apostle Paul, let us pause to say, "I thank my God every time I remember you" whenever we reflect on the gifts of life and love and laughter shared with others.  Thanks be to God!