Tag Archives: Prevenient Grace

Following Jesus in Mission

An epiphany is a moment of realization often experienced as a sudden, and perhaps surprising, insight. Earlier this month, Christians celebrated Epiphany, when the church reflects on God’s revelation through the coming of Jesus; I believe it presents us with an opportunity to reflect on how Jesus is speaking to us today.

As 2023 launches, one of the things I continue to reflect on is how we are called by Jesus to be on mission in our world. I am involved in a ministry called the Inspire Movement, which seeks to help Christians abide deeply with God and live missionally in the world. The goal is that people will become the kind of disciples who live as everyday ordinary missionaries. When we share this vision with people, they are often hesitant to embrace the idea that they are called to be a “missionary” or “evangelist.”

I think part of the hesitancy comes from two similar misperceptions about living lives on mission for Jesus. First, there is the misperception that we are not gifted in evangelism, and therefore cannot or even should not be engaged in sharing the gospel with others. While the gift of evangelism may not show up in our spiritual gifts inventory, Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew make clear that disciples are called to be engaged in the world: “You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people’s feet. You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 5:13–17, ESV)

While being salt and light may not look like preaching on a street corner or traveling to exotic locations around the world to spread the gospel, the potential impact is still significant. We can still share the story of our relationship with Jesus with our neighbor. We can share how Jesus has changed us and invite that person to see how Jesus might work in their life.

Another misperception that prevents us from living a life on mission is the idea that the work of evangelism has to be done on our own. We may think that the work of evangelism and everyday mission is the stuff of superheroes, not ordinary Christians. But for Wesleyan-minded Christians, John Wesley’s teaching on prevenient grace makes clear that it is God who is on mission; we are invited to join God in his work. For Wesley, prevenient grace describes God’s initial work in our salvation, when the Lord is drawing us to himself and toward awakening and repentance. According to Wesley in his sermon, On Working Out Our Own Salvation, prevenient grace includes, “the first wish to please God, the first dawn of light concerning his will, and the first slight transient conviction of having sinned against him.” Wesley is clear that this is the work of God, and not by our own efforts or the efforts of others. We can be confident that God was at work in a person’s life long before we came on the scene.

However, this doesn’t mean we have no role to play. Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 3:6-7, we may have different roles as we join God on his mission, but it is God who does the work: “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth.” We are still called to share the gospel with others, but rather than having to be the “Lone Ranger” to invite someone to follow Jesus, we can trust the Holy Spirit to be at work in that person’s life drawing them and awakening them to the reality of the God who loves them.

How is Jesus calling you to join him on mission this year? As you reflect on your life with Jesus during this season of goals, I invite you to consider how Jesus may be calling you into mission in your community, school, or workplace. Take confidence in the fact that the Holy Spirit goes before you and will be with you as you seek to follow Jesus in mission.

Featured image courtesy Erica Nilsson via Unsplash.

Reacting to the Image of God: Wesley and Worth

I try my best not to get drawn into the hot fire of the cultural moment. One of my great fears for our moment is that we will all become reactionary, driven more by emotions than reason (or if we are religious an overarching theological perspective). We react to culture, we react to others, we react to ourselves. Reacting like this often means that we don’t take time to stop, think, pray, and discern. In seminary, a professor named Dr. Knickerbocker said, “always watch what word we use. Do we say ‘I feel’? Or ‘I think’? Or ‘I believe’?” Our feelings may be valid, and reason is just as fallen and faulty as emotion. But in a reactionary moment, I try to stay non-reactive.

As a follower of Jesus, I’ve found that Wesleyan theology animates how and why I interact with people. One of the greatest theological works ever, in my opinion, is John Wesley’s sermon, “The Scripture Way of Salvation.” In this sermon, Wesley lays out a concept you may be familiar with: his understanding of grace – prevenient, the grace that goes before; justifying, the grace of conversion; and sanctifying, the grace of Christian growth.

There are so many takeaways from his theology but primary to me is the understanding that God is the first and primary actor in our salvation. We do not save ourselves by anything that we can do. God is the first actor. He calls us (prevenient), saves us (justifying), and grows us (sanctifying). Our very salvation is the work of God. In fact, in a recent sermon series on the Apostles’ Creed, we looked at how our very salvation is a Trinitarian act. We are brought to the Father, through the Son, by the Spirit. We are saved only through God’s work.

But here is why this matters in a reactionary culture. Why must God be the first actor? Why does salvation rest on God’s action, not on ours? The reason is original sin, sometimes called the doctrine of depravity. When Adam and Eve fell, they took all of humanity with them. (Romans 5: 12, 1 Corinthians 15: 20-21) This doctrine says that when they fell, we as humans fell with them. We are sinful, corrupt, whatever term or adjective you’d like to use. We are sinful. You. Me. All of us. It is part of the human condition.

Now here is the question. What does that mean? We know all humans are made in the image of God. (Genesis 1: 26-27) But sin has entered in. What does that do to the image of God within us? One theological perspective is that the image of God is completely destroyed: nothing good is left within us. From this perspective, we are completely dead in our sins. Sin destroyed that goodness of God. Yes, we are made in God’s image, but we most certainly are not good. That view is a dominant theme within modern American evangelicalism. As I’ve heard it said, a dead man can’t crawl out of a burning house, and the only thing we deserve is hellfire.

That way of thinking is not how Wesley looked at things. Wesley understood the reality of human sin, yes; but he believed that while the fall corrupted the image of God within us, it didn’t destroy it. Ted Runyan has a wonderful book called The New Creation that covers this subject in-depth. His entire point is that the fall corrupted that image of God within us – it is in need of redemption – but is not completely gone. We humans remain of great worth, and there is the hope for salvation for all. (John 3:16, 1 Timothy 2: 3-4)

This is the reason I am so drawn to Wesleyan theology. Without a doubt, we need salvation. And we are sinful. We can’t save ourselves. But that image of God, while corrupted, has not been completely destroyed. Prevenient grace extends to us an awakening of that image that allows us to walk toward God’s offer of grace.

This cultural moment would teach us to see other people as our enemy. To see people only deserving of judgment, especially those who are not Christians or those who we may disagree with. Those who may vote differently, live differently, act differently. We could easily take on the view of sin that casts them out and removes their worth. It is tempting to harden to our sides; they are over the line, they are on the other side.

Of course, I want to be clear. I believe in sin, judgment, and hell. No one comes to the Father but through the Son. (John 14:6) Sin is destructive; it destroys God’s prize creation, humanity. (John 10:10) This is not an apology for sin. It is a call to love all people in the way that God does. Our societal moment can take from us the desire to truly see the worth in others. The worth in those who are wrong. The worth in those we would see as even our enemies. The path of Christ calls us to love even the enemy. (Matthew 5:43-48; Romans 5:10)

As a follower of Christ and as a pastor, I want to speak against racism and also never discount the potential conversion and sanctification of the racist. And if I am their pastor, I want to be able to hopefully, through God’s grace, help them grow. I want to speak against immorality and also never discount the potential conversion and sanctification of the immoral. And if I am their pastor, I want to be able to hopefully, through God’s grace, help them grow. As a fallen human, my guilt is the same as anyone I preach to. In my calling, I want to hold out hope for redemption to those of infinite worth in the same way I respond to it myself. I never want to discount the worth of people, no matter who they are, what they do, or what they believe. Because everyone is truly loved by God who wants to redeem them.

I want as many people as possible to know the love of Jesus. Some would say that because of their sin, those who do not know Jesus are hostile to him and aren’t interested in knowing God at all. Maybe. But when I read Scripture, I see a lot of people who did not know Jesus but who wanted to know him. And today, I see a lot of people who do not know Jesus and who are very hostile to the Church. But there is still a fascination with Jesus and the Church. There is a yearning spiritually. It’s not surprising; Scripture says God has written eternity on the hearts of men. (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Recently, I read a tweet that caused me to think a lot. By how I love others, do I make hell a more appealing place for folks to want to be than church? I want those who do not know Jesus Christ to be drawn to him and follow him. That is my one true desire for ministry. I want folks of all kinds to know their worth to Jesus. And if I all do is extend a metaphorical middle finger or kick sand in their face, how will know they know Jesus? Because that’s what I want more than anything else: for as many as possible to know Jesus.

I don’t want to get involved in hardening my heart at others, because I want all people, all people, to know Jesus. This world is calling me and you to harden our hearts to others. To write them off. To deem them as enemies. Maybe people in the church are calling us to do that. Maybe even preachers are calling us to do that. But I don’t believe that is right, and it isn’t Wesleyan. In one recent article, the author pointed out that for the first time in history, non-churchgoers make up the majority of the population in America. This is the context we live in now. We can choose to bemoan where we are. We can harden our sides and opinions. We can see our neighbors as our enemy and give up any hope for their redemption. We can harden our opinions, shout the loudest, and condemn the most. But I don’t think that’s the way of Jesus or the way of Wesley. I want as many as possible to know Jesus.

And that starts with each of us knowing our worth in Jesus and seeing others’ worth in Jesus. Even the folks we can’t stand.

Connecting in the Cloud of Witnesses

Churches around the world honor the “cloud of witnesses” who have gone before us – all those people who shaped, challenged, and carried us forward on our spiritual journey. When I contemplate the saints in my own life, I’m reminded of two interrelated ideas. The first is called six degrees of separation; the second, three degrees of influence. In theory, there are just six or fewer degrees of separation, via introduction, from one person to any other person in the world. Essentially, through a chain of a “friend of a friend” connections, any two people in the world can be linked in a maximum of six steps. In our age of social media “influencers,” the theory of three degrees of influence shouldn’t be a surprise. It asserts that social networks have great influence on us, but that influence doesn’t end with whom we have direct ties. We influence our friends, who in turn influence their friends, which means that our actions  influence people we have never met.

What does this have to do with the great cloud of witnesses? For me, the connection is in the metaphorical power of this kind of reflection. These ideas help us visualize the importance of understanding our own place in that cloud.

My own story illustrates this, but first, a small bit of history.

Nelson Mandela was a Methodist, educated in a Methodist boarding school where the chaplain was Rev. Seth Mokitimi. In 1964, Mokitimi became the first Black person elected to lead a major denomination in South Africa, as President of the Methodist Church of Southern Africa (MCSA). He was a powerful influence on Mandela.

In 1963, Mandela was sentenced to life in prison on Robben Island. Rev. Peter Storey, a young, White, newly ordained pastor in the MCSA became his chaplain. Four years later, Storey became the Superintendent Minister at the District Six Methodist Mission in Cape Town. This mission is now a museum that documents the history of District Six and the work of Peter Storey and fellow Methodists in their fight against Apartheid. As time passed, Storey became a bishop and was also elected president of the denomination.

Keeping that bit of history in mind, consider that my father is also a Methodist minister. When I was growing up, he served as the World Editor of The Upper Room, a devotional magazine distributed in 64 languages. The Upper Room gives an annual award to a worldwide Christian leader in recognition of their work. When I was in high school, it was given to Abel Hendricks, a “colored” (the Apartheid classification meaning not Black and not White) Methodist minister in South Africa who had spent his ministry fighting Apartheid. He stayed in our home when he came to Nashville to receive the award. I remember being fascinated as he talked about his life and struggle. Like Peter Storey and Seth Mokitimi, Abel was elected president of the MCSA. In fact, he was elected twice.

In 1980, I had the opportunity to attend the first International Christian Youth Conference on Evangelism (ICYCE), sponsored by World Methodist Evangelism. It was a life-changing event for me. Peter Storey was one of the keynote speakers.

Fast forward a few decades to 2011, when I began working more closely with Dr. Ivan Abrahams, the General Secretary of the World Methodist Council. As a young Methodist minister in South Africa, Ivan was mentored by both Abel Hendricks and Peter Storey. I now hold Ivan as one of my mentors. In his time as a Methodist bishop and then as president of the denomination, he came to know Mandela well; when Mandela died, it was Ivan who was called upon to deliver the sermon at the memorial service.

The idea of six degrees of separation illustrates how small our world really is and how connected we actually are to one another. The notion of three degrees of influence suggests that we have an impact on others in ways we may never realize. My experience attests to the connections illustrated in both these ideas. Who knew I would be connected to Nelson Mandela through a friend of a friend of a friend?

As interesting as I may find it, that’s not the whole story. The real story is about the spiritual inheritance we receive from the great cloud of witnesses – and the importance of finding our own place in that “cloud.”

Abel Hendricks is in my cloud of witnesses; and yet as he sat at our dinner table describing what it felt like to be “colored” in South Africa, he likely was not aware of the impact he was having on the shy 17-year-old girl sitting across from him.

Peter Story is in my cloud of witnesses; and yet as he preached and taught day after day at ICYCE, he likely didn’t notice the skinny 20-year-old whose head was spinning with the magnitude of what she was hearing.

Do you think about spiritual inheritance? We receive it from others, but we must also be willing to leave it for those who follow behind. Do you take seriously your own place in the great cloud of witnesses? If we are connected to everyone else by no more than six degrees, there is great potential for lasting influence. Who knows what kind of impact you may have on the 17-year-old, or 20-year-old, or 45-year-old, or 67-year-old who happens to be the friend of a friend of a friend…

Featured image courtesy Ben Stern on Unsplash.

Epiphany: A Kaleidoscope of Mercy

We have traveled (less this year than others) through the days of Christmas feasting, arriving like the Magi at Epiphany. This is a blessing on a prosaic scale: as a child, Christmas was one day, not 12; and given all the build-up, something seemed off about abandoning festivities so quickly. The cadence of maneuver through 12 days makes more rhythmic sense in the ebb and flow of liturgical tides.

Epiphany restores to the Magi their rightful place in the sequence of the Nativity, tilting them a bit farther away from the rest of the living room Nativity sets. At a distance, the stargazers are not quite elbow to elbow with the shepherds, whose eyes were sometimes less on nighttime stars and more on the threats of their immediate surroundings. The shepherds and sheep figurines may be clustered around the Christ-child; but the Magi are still on their way.

The mercy of revelation – because revelation from an all-powerful, transcendent God of love is mercy to humans who would not be able to grasp God’s nature on our own – may vary in timing. Like a gently shifted kaleidoscope, God’s mercy appears in one set of colors and shapes, then slides and trickles into another as time passes and the kaleidoscope is moved. The tints and outlines of mercy appear to animal caretakers keeping watch at night; the kaleidoscope tilts, and the same mercy appears, this time to star-gazing scholars – to Gentiles.

Epiphany is a swirl of colors and shapes that, when tilted again, reflects the mirrored patterns of mercy in John 4. Here, we watch Jesus as he “has” to go through Samaria; we watch his disciples go into town to buy lunch; we watch him talk with a woman, a Samaritan woman, by a well. We watch him disclose to her what he rarely verbally affirmed – that he is in fact the Messiah. She doesn’t know about the myrrh and frankincense and gold that strangers brought to his parents when he was two, but she receives the same mercy that the Magi received when they brought their gifts. When the disciples return with lunch and encourage Jesus to eat, we see him respond, “I have food to eat that you know nothing about.” In truth, he is revealing that he has mercy that they know nothing about.

To draw from his own well of hidden mercy – this is why Jesus had to go through Samaria. At the time of his birth, what attention did the priests and scribes pay to – astronomy? Yet there was mercy hidden from their view but written in the stars.

“I have mercy you know not of.” A flash, blinding light – otherworldly beings appear to shepherds who smell of dung. An appearance in the night sky of a new celestial body captures the attention of foreign mages. A cleared throat and polite voice sounding young and ancient at the same time asks for a drink of water at a well at mid-day.

The kaleidoscope turns; the mercy of revelation remains.

Is revelation always a mercy? Yes – even if it is our undoing. Madeleine L’Engle wrote of this trade in an Epiphany poem, “One King’s Epiphany” –

I shall miss the stars.

Not that I shall stop looking
as they pattern their wild will each night
across an inchoate sky, but I must see them with a different awe.
If I trace their flames’ ascending and descending –
relationships and correspondences –
then I deny what they have just revealed.
The sum of their oppositions, juxtapositions, led me to the end of all sums:
a long journey, cold, dark and uncertain,
toward the ultimate equation.
How can I understand? If I turn back from this,
compelled to seek all answers in the stars,
then this – Who – they have led me to
is not the One they said: they will have lied.

No stars are liars!
My life on their truth!
If they had lied about this
I could never trust their power again.

But I believe they showed the truth,
truth breathing,
truth Whom I have touched with my own hands,
worshipped with my gifts.
If I have bowed, made
obeisance to this final arithmetic,
I cannot ask the future from the stars without betraying
the One whom they have led me to.

It will be hard not ask, just once again,
see by mathematical forecast where he will grow,
where go, what kingdom conquer, what crown wear.
But would it not be going beyond truth
(the obscene reduction ad absurdum)
to lose my faith in truth once, and once for all
revealed in the full dayspring of the sun?

I cannot go back to night.
O Truth, O small and unexpected thing,
You have taken so much from me.
How can I bear wisdom’s pain?
But I have been shown: and I have seen.

Yes. I shall miss the stars.

This is mercy – even when it seems harsh: “I cannot go back to night.” We cannot love what leads us to Jesus more than we love Jesus, any more than the Magi could love the stars that led their discovery more than the discovery itself. Who can cling to stars when they have seen the Daystar enfleshed? The stars didn’t lie; but the stars became insufficient. The kaleidoscope simply shifted, putting all their wisdom at the mercy of revelation.

You and I cannot go back to night, even if we love the minute adjustment of telescopes, the star charts, the constellations. Mercy will not let us. This is Epiphany: light to the Gentiles, God’s mercy in vivid form, appearing with ruthlessly consistent love.

Featured image courtesy Biswarup Ganguly.

Plans and Power: Our Limits and God’s Goodness

                            

“Plan your work and work your plan.” That phrase is great – in theory. Usually, it carries with it a practical application. But sometimes those plans are suddenly laid aside.

That’s where our churches found themselves in March of this year.  We planned our work ahead of schedule – but then weren’t able to work that plan. Coronavirus took the lead role in our play called, “Think Again…You Actually Thought You Were in Charge?”

Actually, yes; we did. If not us, who?

Well, that would be God, of course. Proverbs 16:9 makes that clear. “We may make our plans, but the Lord directs our steps.” (NLV)

James wrote about this when he said, “Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city and spend a year there and engage in business and make a profit.’ Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.’ But as it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil.” (James 4:13-16)

It could not be any clearer.  In this play, no one sits on the throne but God. It’s not that God is against our making plans. But God has always been the One in charge, and despite the feeble attempts of humans to control history, our choices ultimately fall under the good wisdom of God.

In the South, where southern fried chicken is a staple, we grew up knowing that if you have a pulley bone – a wish bone – at the dinner table, then two can pull that v-shaped bone with all their might, but only one will get the long part when it snaps. That one gets to make a “wish.” Silly little nonsensical talk. However, be very sure that no wish – no plans or intention – can override the power of God. If we can understand this, we can move forward with a sense of security and deep thankfulness.

How this actually works – how God directs our steps – is often a mystery. Let’s consider what it is not. God does not direct your steps if you are willingly walking away from your Creator. God does not direct our steps into sin. That comes under your free will, an unbelievably generous gift from our sovereign, loving God. God is not directing your steps if you decide to purposefully hurt someone.  

Napoleon, at the height of his career, is reported to have given this cynical answer to someone who asked if God was on the side of France: “God is on the side that has the heaviest artillery.” Then came the Battle of Waterloo.  Napoleon lost both the battle and his empire. Years later, when he was in exile on the island of St. Helena, completely humbled, Napoleon was reported to quote the words of Thomas à Kempis: “man proposes; God disposes.”

During this time of a far-reaching pandemic, it is easy for us to throw up our hands and completely give up, with questions like, “Why is God doing this?” or, “Why did God let me put all that work into my plans?” or even, “Is this the beginning of the end of time?”

In answer to the first question, God does have purpose in allowing this virus to infiltrate our lives. Not one person on earth, even the wisest of scholars has the perfect answer. God’s power to weave tragedy for good is far too wide and too high for our finite minds. In answer to, “Is this the beginning of the end of time?” the answer would be, “Absolutely not. It is a continuing of the beginning of the end of time that entered our lives 2,000 years ago. Jesus ushered in the last days. Since we are 2,000 years into that ushering, it seems that God is not in any hurry to bring this truth to its final purpose.”

Maxie Dunnam captures this in succinct explanation: “The coronavirus is not the will of God; this is not his deliberate judgment upon a sinful nation and an unfaithful church, and it is not any sort of announcement about ‘end times.’ Listen to me now, listen carefully. I am not questioning God’s power. Even the winds and the waves obey God simply through the word of his Son. This is not God’s will, but God has a will in the midst of it.” (Where is God in this Raging Coronavirus? March 27, 2020)

And one more thing. When our plans go out the window and upheaval stirs anxiety, recognize who your enemy actually is. The very real ruler of this world is out to steal and destroy. Don’t let him. If you are a believer, then the Power that created the world lives – in you. The enemy has already been defeated. Read this truth in the following scripture: “Greater is he that is in me than he who is in the world.” (1 John 4:4)

What do you see as God’s will for you right now, today, in the midst of this virus? Maybe God is pointing out a need for a recharged moral compass or sense of discernment. Somewhere in these past years, have you lost yours?

Our solutions are fairly simple when we search for God’s will when our plans come to nothing – simple, yet decidedly difficult to carry out: Open our eyes. Speak out against injustice. Make our presence known to others.

Where we find our limits, we also find God’s power and goodness.

Featured image by Jessica Lewis on Unsplash

Andy Stoddard ~ The Prevenient Grace of Mr. Rogers

Fred Rogers was an ordained Presbyterian pastor, but I believe that actually he was a Methodist deep down inside.  Why do I say that?  From my understanding of how he lived, I don’t know anyone who more fully lived out the concept of “prevenient grace.”  Prevenient grace is the grace that goes before us, the grace that calls us into conversion. In our Wesleyan understanding of prevenient grace, it is also the grace that goes to all people. It is the grace that embodies God’s love to all persons. You can reject conversion, you can reject sanctification, but you can’t undo God’s love for you. All people receive God’s love, whether we accept it or not.

Mr. Rogers understood that.  He sought to live out a life in which he treated all people with kindness; he treated everyone according to their worth. That is the essence of prevenient grace, the essence of the image of God that is placed upon all people. All are made in the image of God, all are in need of salvation, all can be saved, all can be saved to the uttermost.  All persons are called to receive grace, and all persons should be treated with the kindness to which this theology calls us. 

After my family and I watched A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, I did a lot of reading about the original article that forms the foundational narrative of the movie. That led to another article that is a postscript about the original piece and the movie on which it’s based. It is a really powerful follow-up, but as I read it, this line got me the most: “He lost, because the great conceit of the internet is that it has unveiled and unmasked us, that it shows us as we really are and our neighbors as they really are, and that hate is more viral than love.”

To think about Mr. Rogers “losing” a fight that is unwinnable – the temptation to hate and to belittle – is painful. But it is also true.  We are tempted to belittle those with different political beliefs (or at least think the worst of them).  We are tempted to belittle those with different religious ideas and ideals (or at least think the worst of them).  I don’t want to do that; I don’t want to fight; I don’t want to live in a “scorched earth” reality.  But the culture is pulling us all that way. 

Our moment puts us on different sides of so many issues, pitting us against each other.  Everything seems to be colored by our personal perspectives and realities. Some things are powerful and so very important: world views and religion, for instance. Others are of great value: religion and social matters. Some are of no particular importance: iPhone vs Android or sports teams. Everything seems to make each of us angry, and while some things are worthy of our passions, we can’t be angry about everything.  If everything arouses passion, then what is truly worthy of passion?

These passions and divisions seem to be tearing our nation, culture, and even churches apart. And we each, deep down within our heart, have to be asking ourselves, “isn’t there a better way? We can’t continue in this cycle forever, can we?”

This is not a liberal vs conservative ideology or Christian vs non-Christian thing that is unique to America in 2019. It is an age-old human thing. In light of these passions, we have to ask ourselves a question, especially those of us who value Wesleyan Methodist theology. Do we believe in prevenient grace?

I mean, do we really believe that preparing grace goes out to all people, the righteous and the unrighteous?  Do we believe that all persons, not just those who are with me, are made in the image of God?  Do we really think they are of sacred worth? 

Here’s the thing.

Jesus did.

He treated everyone that he met as a person with worth.  From the rich young man (who he looked at with love) who walked away, to the Samaritan woman, to the ones who nailed him to the cross. 

He treated each of these people as a person with worth.  And if he did, as one who follows him, I have to as well.  I don’t always want to.  It would be so much easier sometimes to give into the viral nature of hate.  It feels like everyone else is.  And what if I really disagree with “them,” whoever “they” are? I don’t ever want to pretend that our differences aren’t real: they are. It would be so easy to walk down that path of the world and culture.

But I don’t want to walk down that other path. I want to be like Mr. Rogers and as best I can, through God’s grace, live our God’s grace.  I believe that is the only path that leads to peace.  Maybe it makes me naive, or foolish, or less than those who want to pick up the battle. I’m learning to be okay with that. We all have to do what we think is right.

I think of another who, like the journalist believes Mr. Rogers did, “lost.” 

Jesus. 

He lost in the sight of the world, in the sight of the religious leaders of the day, in the sight of Rome.

But he didn’t lose.  Because he lived and died, showing God’s heart of love, and rose again to triumph over sin, death, and the grave.  Hate is not the most viral after all.

To win isn’t always to win.  And to lose isn’t always to lose.

In the end, Mr. Rogers didn’t lose if he still inspires us to show kindness and treat people as though their lives have worth. And Jesus, through his life, death, resurrection, and soon return, shows us our worth and the great love of the Father for us all.

Featured image by Lacey Terrell – © Sony Pictures Entertainment

Andy Stoddard ~ From the Storm to the Shipwreck

Today’s reading is from Acts 27: 13-38:

When a moderate south wind began to blow, they thought they could achieve their purpose; so they weighed anchor and began to sail past Crete, close to the shore. But soon a violent wind, called the northeaster, rushed down from Crete. Since the ship was caught and could not be turned head-on into the wind, we gave way to it and were driven. By running under the lee of a small island called Cauda we were scarcely able to get the ship’s boat under control. After hoisting it up they took measures to undergird the ship; then, fearing that they would run on the Syrtis, they lowered the sea anchor and so were driven. We were being pounded by the storm so violently that on the next day they began to throw the cargo overboard, and on the third day with their own hands they threw the ship’s tackle overboard. When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small tempest raged, all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.

Since they had been without food for a long time, Paul then stood up among them and said, “Men, you should have listened to me and not have set sail from Crete and thereby avoided this damage and loss. I urge you now to keep up your courage, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. For last night there stood by me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before the emperor; and indeed, God has granted safety to all those who are sailing with you.’ So keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told. But we will have to run aground on some island.”

When the fourteenth night had come, as we were drifting across the sea of Adria, about midnight the sailors suspected that they were nearing land. So they took soundings and found twenty fathoms; a little farther on they took soundings again and found fifteen fathoms. Fearing that we might run on the rocks, they let down four anchors from the stern and prayed for day to come. But when the sailors tried to escape from the ship and had lowered the boat into the sea, on the pretext of putting out anchors from the bow, Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, “Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved.” Then the soldiers cut away the ropes of the boat and set it adrift.

Just before daybreak, Paul urged all of them to take some food, saying, “Today is the fourteenth day that you have been in suspense and remaining without food, having eaten nothing. Therefore I urge you to take some food, for it will help you survive; for none of you will lose a hair from your heads.” After he had said this, he took bread; and giving thanks to God in the presence of all, he broke it and began to eat. Then all of them were encouraged and took food for themselves.(We were in all two hundred seventy-six persons in the ship.) After they had satisfied their hunger, they lightened the ship by throwing the wheat into the sea.

We see Paul’s encouragement to his shipmates: don’t lose heart.  God has a plan, and Paul must get to Rome.  As bad as it may look or appear right now, God is not done with Paul; God wants Paul to take the Good News to all the world. So Paul keeps encouraging, keeps pushing, keeps working; Paul keeps at it.  He trusts in what God has told him.  And he uses that knowledge to encourage others.

That is good for us to hear and think about today.  We know that in the end, God wins. We know that in the end, the storm will pass, that God has a plan, that all will be well.  We know it and we really believe it.  Even if we struggle to understand or hold onto it, we know it to be true. 

And if we know it to be true, let’s encourage each other.  Let’s encourage those in the storm.  Paul knew it would be okay because God had promised him that it would be.  He has promised us the exact same thing.  Let’s have faith.  Let’s trust.  And just like Paul, let’s encourage each other, no matter how bad the storm.

What follows encouraging each other through the storm?

In the morning they did not recognize the land, but they noticed a bay with a beach, on which they planned to run the ship ashore, if they could. So they cast off the anchors and left them in the sea. At the same time they loosened the ropes that tied the steering-oars; then hoisting the foresail to the wind, they made for the beach. But striking a reef, they ran the ship aground; the bow stuck and remained immovable, but the stern was being broken up by the force of the waves. The soldiers’ plan was to kill the prisoners, so that none might swim away and escape; but the centurion, wishing to save Paul, kept them from carrying out their plan. He ordered those who could swim to jump overboard first and make for the land, and the rest to follow, some on planks and others on pieces of the ship. And so it was that all were brought safely to land. – Acts 27:39-44

We see that God’s word to Paul was brought true.  There were no casualties: all the people on the ship survived.  Now, they were stranded in this moment; but they were alive.  They had made it through the storm.  This was not the end of their journey and their trip was not complete. But they had made it this far.  God had kept his word.

You are not yet who you will be. 

You are still on a journey.  Your trip is not complete.  There is work left to do in your life.  There is work that God still has to do with you and through you.  Your journey is not yet complete.  As long as you are still breathing and living, God is still at work on you.

Paul had many miles yet to go, but he was in still in the middle of God’s plan. Today, seek after God’s plan and God’s way.  Even if it leaves you shipwrecked for a moment, God has bigger plans. Trust in him always; always.

Justus Hunter ~ Promising the Mystery of Wisdom

Has the promise been fulfilled?

“You will eat in plenty and be satisfied.”

Has the promise been fulfilled?

“My people will never again be put to shame.”

Has the promise been fulfilled?

“I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh.”

God fulfills his promises. We know this. But we often struggle to see how. Because the promises God makes and the promises we would like aren’t always the same. His wisdom is not ours.

My sons want me to build them a playhouse. So I’ve been sketching a few ideas, and we’ve been scavenging useful things around the neighborhood on trash days. I came up with a small 8×6 structure with a hinged wall that lifts into an awning for hot or rainy days. You’ll note a parent’s motivation here – even if it’s hot or wet, they can stay outside! I was proud of my design. But when I showed it to the boys, they looked it over and asked, “Where is the desk? Where do we sleep?”

My plans didn’t suit their purposes. There was a gap, a rupture between my plans and their goals. I had my wisdom, and they had theirs.

In today’s reading from I Corinthians 2, Paul also speaks of two wisdoms. There is the wisdom of this age and its rulers, and there is the wisdom of God. And because there are two wisdoms, when he came to Corinth, Paul refused to speak as if he were wise. “My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom.” He decided to proclaim the mystery of God, but not in their words and according to their wisdom. “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”

This message, the very mystery of God, requires a suitable foundation. The wisdom of this age will not do. Why not? Because the wisdom of this age and its rulers is, in fact, no wisdom at all. As it turns out, the wisdom of this age is foolish, absurd, contradictory. Its conclusion is the crucifixion. “They crucified the Lord of Glory.” As the early church thinkers observed, such things are unthinkable. How can the Lord of Glory himself, the very one who gives all life, who is Life Itself, be crucified, and die?

But this is the very thing the wisdom of our age does: it goes on as if the absurd were true. It lives as if Life Itself could be crucified, and that be the end of it. It is wisdom that attempts to destroy the Son, who is true Wisdom.

This, friends, is the wisdom of our age. We hear it all around us. And sometimes we live it. We live it each time we imagine we can carve off some corner of our life, set it aside, keep it secret from our Lord of Glory. We crucify him from our plans, our hopes, our times, our loves. We absurdly imagine that he could remain in the tomb, apart from the promises of our own making.

But no eye has seen nor ear heard what God has prepared for our plans and hopes, our times and loves. No heart can conceive the promises of God. None, that is, except God himself. None except the very Spirit of God.

And so Joel prophecies, “I will pour out my spirit on all flesh.” “You will eat and be satisfied.”

The promise is fulfilled. The wisdom of God, the Son himself, has come to us. He has come, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again from the dead and ascended into heaven. What else do you expect when the Lord of Glory is crucified?

The promise is fulfilled. The ascended Son pours out the Spirit. The Spirit has come. The Spirit that, “searches everything, even the depths of God” is shed abroad in our hearts. Thanks be to God, we have received the Spirit. And so, “we will eat and be satisfied.”

I’m redesigning the boys’ playhouse. I’m adding a multi-purpose bench; desk by day, bunk by night. And maybe, if I’m lucky, they can take a nap out there as well. But I’m leaving the hinged wall and awning. You see, I know the boys will enjoy it. Their eyes have not seen what I have planned for them. My wisdom is greater than theirs.

God has poured out the Spirit on all flesh. The Spirit is present. It is here. Just as Christ walked by the Spirit, so might we. And so might we have the mind of Christ, that mind which crucifies the wisdom of this age.

Make no mistake – something must die. There are two wisdoms. And no matter how well our wisdom imitates the Spirit’s – no matter how noble or well-intentioned our promises might be – no one comprehends what is truly God’s except the Spirit of God.

And that very Spirit is offered us now, ready and eager to make bread and wine be for us the body and blood of Christ, poured out for us. Take and eat, friends. Receive the promises of God. Let them crucify your wisdom, the wisdom the Lord of Glory was crucified to take away, the wisdom the Spirit was poured out to overcome. Take. Eat. Be satisfied.

Otis T. McMillan ~ Navigating Challenges: Trust, Act, and Expect

Be God-conscious at all times: with confidence, seek the Lord’s direction

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” – Proverbs 3:5-6

Solomon speaks of complete trust in the Lord. He is helping us to understand that there is safety in being God-conscious at all times. Every decision made should be made with complete consideration of God. As we do, he will direct our path in the proper direction.

Before decisions are made, seek the mind of God. As you acknowledge the Lord, you can be assured that he will direct you in the right direction. With complete trust, remain God-conscious at all times. Your trust will lead to the right decision.

Faith is not always waiting; it may demand action. You are a part of the plan.

 “And when she could no longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the child therein; and she laid it in the flags by the river’s brink.” – Exodus 2:3

Knowing that her newborn son was to be sacrificed, Jochebed, with boldness and creativity, developed a plan to save him. After hiding the child for three months, she built a small “ark” for him and placed him into the water. Miriam, the infant’s older sister, was sent to observe what would happen. By the providence of God, the daughter of Pharaoh was there to take the child to safety. God’s plan was fulfilled.

You are a part of God’s plan. There will be times you will be called upon to act in boldness, with creativity. Your actions will be coupled with the providence of God, resulting in God’s will being accomplished.

Don’t put a limit on the blessings God intends for your life: expect more. You will not be disappointed.

“Then he said, ‘Go, borrow thee vessels abroad of all thy neighbors, even empty vessels; borrow not a few.’” – 2 Kings 4:3

Being left with nothing but a small amount of oil, a widow seeks the help of Elijah. She reminds him that her husband was a faithful servant of the prophet and that his death has left her and her two sons with practically nothing. Elijah commands her to gather from her neighbors empty jars, emphasizing “not a few.” What they gather will determine the extent of the blessing they receive. They are not to limit God.

As the Lord directs your steps, do not limit what he intends for your life. With faith leading you, extend your efforts beyond what appears possible. God, having no limits, has a level of victory that goes beyond your ability to conceive. Expect more, you will not be disappointed.

Brian Yeich ~ What Providence Looks Like

At times it seems that people who come from Wesleyan Methodist backgrounds have an “arm’s length” relationship with the idea of providence. At its most basic level, providence is the activity of God working out God’s redemptive plans for his creation. It’s God working out a rescue plan for creation, and the idea that God is working behind the scenes without our involvement or cooperation is a bit unnerving to Wesleyan sensibilities. For after all, aren’t we the people who believe in cooperating grace (that is, that there is a degree of cooperation we engage in when it comes to God’s saving work)? We are the movement that emphasizes human free will and our ability to choose or reject the gift of grace that God offers. “Providence” just sounds too much like those Reformed or Calvinist folks, we think. But if we take a closer look, we see that the founder of our movement, John Wesley, had a very robust understanding of divine providence. So, what are we to think about providence as Wesleyans?

Let’s describe what providence is not. Providence does not mean that we have no free will. God’s providence does not rule out human freedom. Providence is not opposed to cooperation with God. Providence does not mean we are “off the hook” or that we have no sense of responsibility when it comes to spiritual growth. Rather, we cooperate with God as we grow in our faith by practicing spiritual disciplines, or the “means of grace.”

So, what is providence?

Providence is at the heart of Christian theology. Christians throughout the ages, although there have been exceptions, have affirmed that God is not simply a clockmaker who put the universe into motion and has since left it unattended to its own ends. Rather, providence affirms that God is working behind the scenes, sometimes imperceptibly, but working nevertheless. Drawing on centuries of Christian understanding, the late theologian Thomas Oden defined providence as, “the expression of the divine will, power, and goodness through which the Creator preserves creatures, cooperates with what is coming to pass through their actions, and guides creatures in their long-range purposes.”[1] Providence is both evidence of God’s love for his creation as well as his sovereignty.

John Wesley had strong convictions regarding God’s providence. With his both/and approach, Wesley shared great insights into the nature of God and into the life of the Christian disciple through the lens of providence. In his sermon, On Providence, Wesley urged, “There is scarce any doctrine in the whole compass of revelation, which is of deeper importance than this. And, at the same time, there is scarce any that is so little regarded, and perhaps so little understood.”[2]

While Christian thinkers for centuries affirmed God’s omniscience and omnipresence, Wesley acknowledged that our limited human understanding has trouble grasping the concept of God’s providential nature. Wesley emphasized that we should be humbled by the fact that God, infinite in wisdom and power, is yet concerned with his creation’s wellbeing. Wesley pointed out that while with God all things are possible, “He that can do all things else cannot deny himself.”[3] While it is within God’s power to destroy all sin and evil in the world, for instance, this would contradict God’s nature. Particularly, this would contradict the fact that humanity was created in God’s own image. However, Wesley clarified, this is where the providence of God enters into the equation. While God allows human beings to choose between good and evil, God’s providence is a work, “to assist man [sic] in attaining the end of his being, in working out his own salvation, so far as it can be done without compulsion, without over-ruling his liberty.”  Wesley envisions God’s providence operating in a “three-fold circle” within creation.[4]

First, Wesley observed, the whole universe is governed by God, including the movements of the sun, moon and stars as well as animal life. Beyond this governance, Wesley describes three circles of God’s providence. The first of the three circles encompasses all of humanity. Within this circle, God’s providence works in the world… The second circle includes “all that profess to believe in Christ.”[5] Within this circle, God is at work… The final and innermost circle, encompasses, “real Christians, those that worship God, not in form only, but in spirit and in truth. Herein are comprised all that love God, or, at least, truly fear God and work righteousness; all in whom is the mind which was in Christ, and who walk as Christ also walked.”[6] (Interestingly, Wesley argued that it is within this circle that Luke 12:7 is realized: “Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.”[7] He commented, “Nothing relative to these is too great, nothing too little, for his attention.”[8] While God is concerned for all of his creation, Wesley believed that the Lord gives special attention to those who are fully devoted followers of Jesus.)

Throughout his writings including his journal and letters, Wesley noted on many occasions the “train of providences” that God worked in particular situations. He often ascribes additional descriptive words like, “uncommon,” “various,” “wonderful,” and “whole” to further describe these instances in which Wesley observed the hand of God at work in the lives of Christians. He emphasized that while God has established general laws that govern the universe, God is free to, “make exceptions to them, whensoever he pleases.” [9] For Wesley, God’s care for creation and especially for human beings is not hindered by the laws of the universe.

In the conclusion of his sermon, Wesley encourages Christians to put their full trust in the Lord and to not fear. God’s providence means that we can trust him even when it seems that our world or the whole world is falling apart. He does not deny that we will face challenges and sorrows, but that we should walk humbly before God and trust that “God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”[10] The Christian’s hope is in the Lord who not only governs the universe but also cares particularly for those who follow God. He knows the number of hairs on our heads. No detail escapes his attention. God’s providence gives us hope for both our present and our future. It’s not a matter of just saying that “everything happens for a reason,” for God is not the source of evil or chaos. However, we can trust that behind it all, God is at work. It does not mean that everything will go well for us, but it does mean that God is with us every step of the way. Perhaps that was the motivation of John Wesley on his deathbed when he uttered the words, “The best of all, God is with us.”[11]


[1] Oden, Thomas C. Classic Christianity: A Systematic Theology. HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.

[2] John Wesley, “On Divine Providence” (1786), in The Works of John Wesley, ed. Thomas Jackson, 14 vols.,(Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2007), 6:315; hereafter cited as Works (Jackson).

[3] Ibid. p. 317.

[4] This idea is from Thomas Crane, A Prospect of Divine Providence which Wesley included in his Christian Library.

[5] Ibid., p. 319

[6] Ibid., p. 319

[7] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version, (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016).

[8] Ibid., p. 320

[9] Ibid., p. 322.

[10] Romans 8:28. The Holy Bible: English Standard Version, (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016).

[11] Ken Collins, John Wesley: A Theological Journey, (Nashville, TN: Abindgon Press, 2003), p, 268.