The Methodist Band Meeting: Confession Is For Protestants Too by Kevin Watson
Methodists gathered together because they were convinced that growth in holiness was most likely to happen in community.
Methodists gathered together because they were convinced that growth in holiness was most likely to happen in community.
We know that what we do here in Holy Communion is look forward to that day when life will finally be the way God wants it to be.

This is not an anti-technology diatribe. There are enough diatribes in the world, I think: talking heads, Facebook rants, raised fists and honking horns etching anger for a permanent moment of rush hour that hangs now in the universe reflecting our contorted faces back to us. What if I died in that moment? The moment of my life when my
God’s word is better delivered in obscurity than by celebrity. The greatest impact usually happens when no one notices.
It’s a mistake to criticize questioning by and in itself. An unexamined life is not worth living, and an unexamined faith will last about as long as Farrah Fawcett hair, Hammer pants, beanie babies, MySpace, “Gangnam Style” and every other grass that withers and flower that doth fade away.
Beginning at the point of our believing that it is God’s desire to forgive, confession becomes not a morbid discipline, not a dark groveling in the mud and mire of life, not a fearful response to a wrathful, angry God who is out to get us if we don’t shape up. Rather, confession becomes an act of anticipation, a response
New is unknown, and often we are afraid of the “what if” questions in our lives. But new is happening every day.

It began with Jesus, who invited twelve guys to quit their day jobs and enroll in a three-year intensive, seminary-level program. By following Jesus, these guys learned Hebrew Bible, pastoral care, prayer and healing, theology, missions and evangelism, preaching and economics. At the end of three years, Jesus declared them ready (in fact, he called them his peers) and commissioned
When we refuse to be silent we are saying that we have nothing left to learn or that God has nothing left to say to us.
By the time most of us get to be adults, we have accumulated a great deal of stuff. We’ve learned so many wrong things, stored up so much misinformation, learned to respond in so many destructive ways, adopted all the biting, snarling, snippy styles of relating, become secretive and cynical. We carry a lot of stuff around, and it burdens

As we prepare to enter into the season of Lent, there is always a call to fasting. That is one of the definitive features of this time of Lent. It is a time to pull back from all the abundance of our life, particularly for those of us in the West, and to refocus ourselves upon God, on our great

As the Church, it would be foolish to believe we have not participated or contributed in some way. We can confess the ways we have corporately and personally upheld this power dynamic, repent and seek to turn it upside down.
Men who object to women taking central roles in the church might want to remember what place the women took in the gospels: at the foot of the cross, present with Christ, at the moment when God himself was pierced and blood and water flowed.

I’ve seen a lot of death. Not just because my husband has a full-time pastoral calling, but also because my parents never shielded me from the reality of death. Many parents today hesitate to take their children to funerals because, “they wouldn’t understand,” and that is true, but only to an extent. As a parent, it is my duty (privilege?)

Curiosity is underrated. In the past one hundred years, many North Americans have undergone a shift in how they’re described and in how they see themselves. We have gone from citizens to consumers. A few years back the hit drama “Mad Men” followed the lives of people in a booming advertising industry in post-World War II America. Citizens may benefit

Recently I read an article by seminary professor Kate Bowler that had me staring wide-eyed at the computer screen, alternately barking bursts of laughter, fist-pumping the air, and feeling tears sting the corners of my eyes. She walked up to the elephant in the room, reached out, touched it, gave it a treat, made friends with it, and sat down
We live in a culture marked by a dramatic lack of trust, and the Church is not exempt as a target for those feelings of suspicion. As the Body of Christ, we have some restorative work to do as we witness for the kingdom.

It’s Monday when most clergy members attempt to hide, read, or decompress. A few with churches large enough to afford a staff prefer post-game analysis on Mondays, parceling out Sabbath follow-up’s and sketching the week ahead. Many pastors enter Monday with a need to refuel – even the extroverts. And while the calendar reads January 29th, it can feel like
God, when we grow tired and weary, when we stumble and fall, lift our eyes to heaven and remind us to find our hope and strength in You.

Let’s explore how we are called to engage in the mission Dei through a Trinitarian lens. Lesslie Newbigin uses the theology of the Trinity to offer a theological ground for the understanding and practicing of the missio Dei. He explains, “He is the Son, sent by the Father and anointed by the Spirit to be the bearer of God’s kingdom
Get articles delivered directly to your inbox as soon as they come out.