Tag Archives: Wesleyan

El Carácter de un Wesleyano

En estos días se está hablando mucho en mi (ciertamente muy limitado) sector del mundo sobre lo que significa ser wesleyano. En este caso, “wesleyano” no se refiere a una denominación en particular, sino a una corriente teológica más amplia que nació a través de un movimiento del siglo XVIII y que se definió en gran medida por los comentarios y sermones de John Wesley.

El propio Wesley escribió una vez un tratado llamado “El Carácter de un Metodista.” Según su definición, un metodista es feliz, lleno de amor, orante, puro de corazón, de espíritu de servicio, conocido por su fruto.

En esta época, parece importante articular más los distintivos que nos hacen metodistas. En mi propio estudio, descubrí esta fuerte reflexión sobre el carácter de un wesleyano escrita hace más de una década por Kent Hill, entonces presidente de Eastern Nazarene College. Sus pensamientos resuenan, así que los comparto como un punto de partida para su propia formación de una definición de lo que significa ser wesleyano.

¿Qué significa ser wesleyano?

Primero, ser wesleyano significa reconocer la primacía de la autoridad bíblica. John Wesley nunca dejó ninguna duda en cuanto a sus convicciones en esta área. En una carta de 1739, declaró inequívocamente: “No permito otra regla, ya sea de fe o de práctica, que las Sagradas Escrituras …” Wesley se tomó tan en serio que las Escrituras desempeñaran el papel principal en lo que pensaba y en cómo vivía, que sus sermones y cartas están impregnados de frases bíblicas. Se convirtió en parte de su propio lenguaje.

En segundo lugar, ser wesleyano significa ser consciente y orgullosamente parte de la amplia y antigua tradición de la fe cristiana. No pertenecemos a una secta religiosa que nació a mediados del siglo XVIII. En 1777, en la fundación de City Road Chapel en Londres, Wesley describió el movimiento del metodismo de esta manera: “El metodismo, así llamado, es la religión antigua, la religión de la Biblia, la religión de la Iglesia primitiva, la religión del Iglesia de Inglaterra. Esta vieja religión … no es otra que el amor, el amor de Dios y de toda la humanidad.” Si somos fieles a nuestra herencia wesleyana, no solo podemos, sino que estamos obligados a, basarnos ampliamente en la tradición cristiana.

En tercer lugar, ser wesleyano no solo permite, sino que requiere que seamos ecuménicos. Aunque John Wesley creía firmemente en sus convicciones teológicas, nunca perdió de vista el hecho de que el Cuerpo de Cristo es mucho más grande que cualquier tradición o perspectiva teológica. No barrió bajo la alfombra las importantes divisiones teológicas que existían, ni permitió que esas diferencias nublaran la realidad más amplia de que lo que tenemos en común a través de los credos es de primordial importancia. En el ecumenismo de Wesley, hubo un compromiso con una humanidad común en Cristo.

Cuarto, ser wesleyano significa afirmar la doctrina cardinal de la justificación por gracia a través de la fe. La salvación se basa en los méritos de la justicia de Cristo y se apropia por la fe, que es un don de la gracia de Dios. Wesley insistió en que debemos responder al regalo de Dios mediante actos de obediencia que fluyen de la fe. Wesley creía que los humanos nunca pueden hacer lo suficiente para merecer la salvación; sin embargo, enseñó que Dios en su soberanía nos concede una medida de libertad para responder a su gracia transformadora, y si nos negamos a responder, entonces no seremos salvos ni transformados.

En quinto lugar, ser wesleyano significa reconocer que la gracia de Dios es “transformadora” y “perdonadora.” Esto se encuentra en el meollo de lo que se puede llamar el distintivo teológico central del pensamiento de John Wesley: la búsqueda, por la gracia de Dios, de la santidad o santificación. La gracia es más que la “gracia creadora” que ha formado todas las cosas. Es incluso más que la gracia “perdonadora” que nos perdona nuestros pecados. Es la gracia “transformadora” que, por obra del Espíritu Santo, nos permite conformarnos cada vez más a la imagen de Jesucristo.

En sexto lugar, ser wesleyano significa ser apologistas efectivos de la fe cristiana. La vida y el ministerio de John Wesley reflejan una respuesta convincente al mandamiento registrado en 1 Pedro 3: 15-16: “Al contrario, honren en su corazón a Cristo, como Señor, y manténganse siempre listos para defenderse, con mansedumbre y respeto, ante aquellos que les pidan explicarles la esperanza que hay en ustedes. Tengan una buena conciencia, para que sean avergonzados aquellos que murmuran y dicen que ustedes son malhechores, y los calumnian por su buena conducta en Cristo.” (RVC) Si reflejamos una perspectiva wesleyana, cultivaremos oportunidades para usar las Escrituras, la amplia tradición cristiana, la razón y la experiencia en defensa de la fe. Y lo haremos de una manera que muestre moderación y amor frente a las críticas.

Séptimo, para ser wesleyano se requiere un compromiso con el discipulado y la responsabilidad. Específicamente, requiere de nosotros un compromiso con la importancia del discipulado cristiano estructurado. En junio de 1779, Wesley escribió en su diario: “Este mismo día escuché muchas verdades excelentes pronunciadas en la kirk (iglesia). Pero, como no había ninguna aplicación, era probable que hiciera tanto bien como el canto de una alondra.” Además de la participación en pequeños grupos de rendición de cuentas, Wesley insistió en la importancia de las devociones privadas, la participación en reuniones más grandes de la iglesia, la toma de los sacramentos, y los actos de misericordia.

Octavo, ser wesleyano significa estar involucrado en ministerios compasivos. John Wesley siempre creyó que era imperativo que un seguidor de Jesucristo estuviera simultáneamente comprometido con la relación vertical esencial con su Creador y con la relación necesaria y redentora con el resto de la Creación de Dios. Si este último no está presente, Wesley insistió en que hay algo fundamentalmente incorrecto en el primero. Ninguna posición podría estar más claramente arraigada en Cristo, quien declaró en Mateo 25 que “todo lo que hiciste por uno de estos hermanos míos más pequeños, lo hiciste por mí.”

Ojalá que en nuestros días veamos un renacimiento del metodismo con tal fuerza y ​​carácter que recupere su capacidad de acoger y hacer avanzar el Reino de Dios.


La traducción por Rev. Dr. Edgar Bazan/Translation by Rev. Dr. Edgar Bazan.


Featured image courtesy Mateus Campos Felipe for 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: 121 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 3:161 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 5:43-48Romans 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.


Review: Dr. Rob Haynes Explores “Renew Your Wesleyan DNA”

What makes a Methodist a “Methodist”? This is an increasingly important question in the age of the rise of secularism, the decline of churches in the West, and other significant challenges in the Wesleyan/Methodist movement. As younger generations decreasingly emphasize the role of denominations, many people are no longer aware of the rich history and theology of the Wesleyan/Methodist churches they call home. In some parts of the world, leaders need fresh encouragement for mission and ministry. All the while, the global Wesleyan movement remains strong, and God continues to use it to share and show the love of Jesus Christ.

Renew Your Wesleyan DNA: Pursue God’s Mission in Your Life and Church by Engaging with the Essential Strands of Wesleyan Theology Cherished by Global Methodism by Rev. Dr. Richard Waugh (Australia: Cypress Project, 2019) is a critical resource to help contemporary Wesleyans learn the history of the movement while valuing the principles that continue to guide the most vibrant Wesleyan/Methodist churches. However, Waugh’s work is not merely a historical retelling. It is an examination and appreciation of the core of the Methodist movement. It is a call for churches and leaders to reflect upon their own ministries and reorient them for the vibrancy experienced when the “people called Methodists” are faithful to God’s call and mission.

The book is divided into eight chapters around three themes: Wesleyan Identity, Wesleyan DNA, and 21st-Century Ministry. Independently and cohesively, these provide a helpful view of the rich history of the Wesleyan movement, its ability to hold a variety of theological positions in a healthy tension, and a call to action for the contemporary church. Waugh identifies five strands of Wesleyan DNA: Creator’s Mission, Salvation, Transformation, Means of Grace, and Ministry with the Poor. These, he says, “encapsulate the essence…of Wesleyan emphases.” He uses them to illustrate the unique way in which John Wesley balanced biblical and theological principles. Waugh demonstrates their application for modern Christian discipleship. The book’s usability is further expanded through the author’s inclusion of historical and theological profiles that show evidence of Wesleyan DNA through various expressions of the global church. While these profiles include a brief historical account, the highlighting of the contemporary gospel witness in each context is enriching.

The global Wesleyan movement has a varied and complex history. Waugh successfully navigates this complexity by providing two separate narratives to illustrate one grand story: the first primarily concentrates on geographic particularities (see chapter two). The second recounts the ways in which Methodism has influenced various theological streams, ecumenism, missional witness, education, healthcare, and other important areas (see chapter eight). He handles these complexities in a way that remains appropriately thorough yet approachable for a general international audience. After all, according to Waugh, over 100 million people from more than 160 countries follow Jesus in the company of the Wesleys. Appropriately, he does not attempt to recap them all. Rather, he gives proper appreciation of various iterations to encourage the reader to apply the Wesleyan DNA into each local ministry. Throughout the work, Waugh’s unique voice as a Wesleyan Methodist leader from the South Pacific gives an important timbre to the conversation.

In some corners of Methodism, leaders have failed to attend to the doctrine that Mr. Wesley sought to preserve. Publications such as this, grounded in modern biblical and theological scholarship while accessible to a broad audience, are important for a deeper sense of belonging in the way God continues to use the global Wesleyan movement.

With thoughtfulness for local church application, small group discussion questions are included. Other helpful resources include a church audit guide, celebration service, and worship guides for Watchnight, Covenant Renewal, and Aldersgate services.

Renew Your Wesleyan DNA is a helpful addition to the libraries of Wesleyan/Methodist laity and pastors alike. It provides a fresh, global perspective on the vibrancy of the People Called Methodist. The work offers tools for individuals, small groups, and congregations to go deeper in their own faith development alongside their Wesleyan/Methodist kindred in the worldwide movement.


Featured image courtesy Elena Mozhvilo on Unsplash.

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ What Is A Wesleyan Theology of Sanctification?

What comes to mind when you think of the word “sanctification”?

If you’re online trying to find a local mechanic to align your tires and somehow ended here, let’s back up.

Lots of people are atheists or agnostics or follow any number of religions. Christians are theists – we believe in God. In particular, whether we’re Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox, Coptic, or another tradition, Christians believe that God in God’s nature is Trinity: three persons, one God. Historic language for this is Father, Son, Holy Spirit, not because two/thirds of God is male, but because to approach God is to discover the tightly knit interconnectedness of how three persons relate in one unity. I promise this connects to the question, “what is the Wesleyan theology of sanctification?” Also, your tires might need rotated or balanced, too.

Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant, Coptic and other Christians also believe in the Incarnation: the second person of the Trinity, like the Gospel of John tells us, became flesh. The Word became flesh, and dwelled among us, or as Eugene Peterson poetically painted, the Word “moved into the neighborhood.”

Why the “Word became flesh” through the Incarnation of God in the person of Jesus Christ is where you begin to find some different emphases among Christian traditions. For centuries, some Eastern Orthodox believers have been universalists, believing eventually everyone will have full union with God in the afterlife. Western Christianity (St. Augustine from Africa, the eventual Roman Catholic Church, and many Protestants) has always placed focus on humanity’s tendency to self-destruct. Curved inward with disordered love of self over God and neighbor, humans have repeatedly chosen to reject God’s love in favor of self-will. (Sometimes this is referred to as “original sin” or as “sin” in general.) Humans continually fall short of the profound goodness and love of God; Jesus moved into the neighborhood, so to speak, to redeem the situation, to show us what God looks like with skin on, and to bring new life and hope to people in need of both. The Word became flesh to bridge the gap between the Creator and the creation.

Yes, you say, having finally found the right tire place on Google maps, but what of the Holy Spirit? What about “Wesleyan” and what do you mean by sanctification? These are great questions to ask in or out of a mechanic’s shop, and the longer you wait while your car is being worked on, the more you’ll need the Holy Spirit and sanctification. Or, put another away, the longer you wait, the more opportunity for the Holy Spirit to work sanctification of your soul after you’ve flipped through an old People and watched the clock practically go backwards.

The Holy Spirit pours out the power of God in a variety of ways that always reveal Christ, point to Christ, and empower believers with the love and power of Christ. Christians may point to the Holy Spirit inspiring the formation of scriptural texts or the Holy Spirit being active in varying practices of ordination (the setting aside of specially called, trained, anointed ministers). Some believers affirm the Holy Spirit’s activity in the Eucharist or Mystery or Holy Communion, transforming simple bread and wine or juice literally (if you’re Catholic) or mystically into a grace-filled experience of the body of Christ. Within these various traditions also lies a very real, often impostered, frequently misunderstood reality. The Holy Spirit continues today to surprise us in tire stores or churches or huts around the world with supernatural phenomena inexplicable solely through reductionist materialist scientific inquiry – healing, signs, strange things we can’t comprehend but that always, only reveal Christ and point to Christ and the invisible reality that is as real as a chipped coffee mug next to a stale-smelling Keurig machine. To greater and lesser degrees, and through a variety of means, believers also affirm that the Holy Spirit works to transform our outer behavior and our inner lives and loves so that we aren’t stuck in the same self-destruct patterns forever.

And this is where we intersect the original question: what is a Wesleyan theology of sanctification? Sorry, we’re out of time, we’ll have to look at that later.

Kidding! Kind of. There’s a lot to say and we’ve already condensed 2,000 years of church history and Trinitarian theology in ways that will have pastors, priests, and especially academics clearing their throats and raising their eyebrows and wanting to clarify or redefine everything I just said.

Wesleyan Methodists, or Wesleyans, or Methodists, are a group of Protestant Christians with a particular set of theological emphases from English brothers John and Charles Wesley, who lived in the 1700’s. “Wesleyan” derives from their name, obviously, and “Methodist” began as an insult because of their persnickety adherence to, yes, methods. While I say Wesleyan Methodism sprang up because of two brothers, if you read a basic biography you’ll soon see we wouldn’t have it today without their remarkable mom, Susanna.

Though John and Charles started what would become this movement, the seeds of Methodism grew while they were at Oxford University. Though they had sisters, women weren’t allowed admission at Oxford at the time, so while the mechanic comes over to tell you that instead of alignment, you need four new tires, you can sit and muse about how the movement might have looked had the Wesley sisters been allowed to attend Oxford.

The Wesley kids primarily were raised by their mom, but their father was a clergyman in the Church of England, which matters but we won’t get into why right now. The main point is that the Church of England at the time was nothing to write home about; and the brothers’ zeal for spiritual growth and formation was in stark contrast to the snoozing pulpits of polite civic religion of their day. Thus they were given the snarky brand of being overexcited “Methodists.”

The notion of sanctification doesn’t belong to one Christian tradition; it doesn’t belong solely to Wesleyan Methodists. You can find it in different terminology scattered across church history, through various traditions, and around the globe. But the Wesleyan Methodists were really organized about focusing on it, pursuing it, and living it individually and in community. The impact on real daily lives was astonishing. Child labor was confronted, illiteracy tackled. John Wesley’s most popular writing during his lifetime wasn’t his pile of sermons, it was his little practical, common-sense pamphlet on health, 250 years before Web MD. There were many very tangible outcomes to something that could sound abstract or removed from real life – sanctification and holiness. But for the Wesleys, sanctification was never about traveling to a remote cave to get away from the mundane or insidious. It was about real life, today, given all the less than ideal circumstances that come our way.

“Sanctus” means holy; sanctification simply refers to being made holy. We struggle though with how to define holy: you might say sacred or set apart or pristine or consecrated. Christians call God “holy,” but what do we really mean by that? Pure? Transcendent? Other-than? Monty Python delightfully skewered the weight and the difficulty of applying the word in Monty Python and the Holy Grail in a comedic scene about divine commands on how to use the “holy hand grenade.” Obviously, you can agree to call any object holy or sacred but that doesn’t make it so even if you treat it like it is. You may ask your mechanic if she’s using the ancient holy wrench on your car to be charged this much for new tires, and she may say, “yes, this here is my holy wrench,” waving it around while both of you know there’s nothing holy about this grimy dented wrench or her impulse to whack you with it or your impulse to be rude and impatient.

Holiness must be derived from something holy in and of itself. Where God breaks in, there is holiness. We don’t strain and strive to become our version of holy – John Wesley tried that, it didn’t go well. Painting a hammer gold and calling it holy doesn’t make it holy.

But as we follow Jesus, we open space to pursue and receive the anointing of the Holy Spirit, to be transformed so that, while you are still fully you, you are also more like Jesus in your thinking, will, desires, and choices.

Different traditions within Christianity describe a couple of odd phrases: imputed and imparted righteousness. To impute righteousness is to ascribe or assign righteousness to something that doesn’t have it inherently (rather like the “holy hand grenade”). It’s a position you occupy whether or not you bear the reality within yourself. Say a country with a monarchy has a revolution and they want to install a new king or queen. With a great deal of ceremony and ritual, they name someone as monarch who may have no royal family heritage. (That’s how monarchies began. “He is king now.” “But five seconds ago – ” “HE IS KING NOW.” “Long live the king!”) Everyone agrees to that position while knowing that one person’s DNA is not inherently set apart as “royal.” You are assigning a reality onto something.

To impart righteousness is to give righteousness; imparted righteousness is given and received in a meaningful way so that you are not just assigning a position or title or state of being. Righteousness is actually grown into; it is lived out. Say a kid starts taking vocal lessons and is fairly mediocre. But as they internalize their training and mimic the habits and disciplines of their teacher, their skills genuinely change and improve. Someone who begins as a novice singer transforms into a skilled vocalist. In that scenario, a teacher is imparting skill, passion, discipline, advice, correction, and affirmation.

Imagine then if the teacher could reach into their own throat and share a portion of the clarity of their tone, their perfect pitch, their love of music, and infuse their student with those qualities. That is imparted righteousness. It’s a transcendent music teacher not only demonstrating but sharing their own qualities with the student, as the student also exercises their will to show up for lessons, practice at home, and hone a love of singing.

And that – in part, please don’t email nasty remarks about how I’ve butchered a beautiful tradition – is what a Wesleyan theology of sanctification is: it is the belief, practice, discipline, and lifestyle of showing up to voice lessons with a desire to sing like our Divine Virtuoso, and our Cosmic Music Teacher sharing a portion of their own tone, pitch, technique, power, and passion back with us, so that whether or not we occasionally croak, crack, or drop a word, our intent is complete harmony with the Master Vocalist: the aim of perfect love.

More can be said about the nuts and bolts of this pursuit: the value of practicing this together in Wesley’s discipleship bands; the tangible way this works out in pursuit of justice where there is discordant exploitation, poverty, and abuse; the means of grace as a kind of practicing the scales and showing up for lessons; Scripture as a pitch pipe that reveals and tunes.

Your tires are finally ready, by the way. And where ugly attitudes or impatience or self-centeredness threaten to lead you off-key, leaning into the voice of Jesus Christ happens when, with humility, you can see your tired mechanic, make eye contact, smile, love her, and ask her how you can pray for her today. That is the Jesus way; that is what we mean by holy.

John Drury ~ Toward a Wesleyan Theology of Ordination

Enjoy this clarifying lecture from Dr. John Drury on the nature of ordination and a distinct Wesleyan posture toward it. “To ordain is to recognize, to mediate, and to anticipate.”  Dr. Drury is Associate Professor of Theology and Christian Ministry at Wesley Seminary in Marion, Indiana.

Carolyn Moore ~ The Character of a Wesleyan

Much is being made these days in my (admittedly very narrow) slice of the world about what it means to be Wesleyan. “Wesleyan” in this case doesn’t refer to a particular denomination but to a broader theological stream birthed through an eighteenth-century movement and largely defined by the commentaries and sermons of John Wesley.

Wesley himself once wrote a tract called “The Character of a Methodist.” By his definition a Methodist is happy, full of love, prayerful, pure in heart, servant-minded, known by his fruit.

In this age, it seems important to articulate further the distinctives that make us Methodist. In my own study, I discovered this strong reflection on the character of a Wesleyan written more than a decade ago by Kent Hill, then-president of Eastern Nazarene College. His thoughts resonate, so I share them as a starting point for your own formation of a definition of what it means to be Wesleyan.

What does it mean to be Wesleyan?

First, to be Wesleyan means to recognize the primacy of Scriptural authority.John Wesley never left any doubt as to his convictions in this area. In a letter in 1739, he unequivocally stated: “I allow no other rule, whether of faith or practice, than the Holy Scriptures….” Wesley was so serious about Scripture playing the primary role in what he thought and how he lived, that his sermons and letters are infused with Scriptural phrases. It became part of his very language.

Second, to be Wesleyan means to be consciously and proudly part of the broad, ancient tradition of the Christian faith. We do not belong to a religious sect that came into existence in the middle of the eighteenth century. In 1777, at the founding of City Road Chapel in London, Wesley described the movement of Methodism this way: “Methodism, so called, is the old religion, the religion of the Bible, the religion of the primitive Church, the religion of the Church of England. This old religion…is no other than love, the love of God and all mankind.” If we are true to our Wesleyan heritage, we not only may, but are obligated to, draw broadly from Christian tradition.

Third, to be Wesleyan not only allows, but requires, that we be ecumenical.Though John Wesley believed strongly in his theological convictions, he never lost sight of the fact that the Body of Christ is much bigger than any one tradition or theological perspective. He neither swept under the rug important theological divisions that existed, nor allowed those differences to cloud the larger reality that what we hold in common through the creeds is of primary importance. In Wesley’s ecumenism, there was a commitment to a common humanity in Christ.

Fourth, to be Wesleyan means to affirm the cardinal doctrine of justification by grace through faith. Salvation is grounded in the merits of Christ’s righteousness and is appropriated by faith, which is a gift of God’s grace. Wesley insisted that we must respond to God’s gift through acts of obedience that flow out of faith. Wesley believed that humans can never do enough to merit salvation; still he taught that God in his sovereignty grants us a measure of freedom to respond to his transforming grace, and if we refuse to respond, then we will neither be saved or transformed.

Fifth, to be Wesleyan means to recognize the grace of God as “transforming,” as well as “pardoning.” This lies at the crux of what can be called the central theological distinctive of John Wesley’s thought – the quest, by God’s grace, for holiness or sanctification. Grace is more than the “creative grace” that has formed all things. It is even more than the “pardoning” grace that forgives us of our sins. It is the “transforming” grace which, through the work of the Holy Spirit, enables us to conform ever more to the image of Jesus Christ.

Sixth, to be Wesleyan means to be effective apologists of the Christian faith.John Wesley’s life and ministry reflects a compelling response to the command recorded in I Peter 3:15-16: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience….” (NIV) If we reflect a Wesleyan perspective, we will cultivate opportunities to use Scripture, broad Christian tradition, reason and experience in defense of the faith. And we will do it in a way that shows restraint and love in the face of criticism.

Seventh, to be Wesleyan requires commitment to discipleship and accountability. Specifically, it requires of us a commitment to the importance of structured Christian discipleship. In June 1779, Wesley wrote in his journal: “This very day I heard many excellent truths delivered in the kirk (church). But, as there was no application, it was likely to do as much good as the singing of a lark.” In addition to participation in small accountability groups, Wesley insisted on the importance of private devotions, participation in larger church meetings, the taking of the sacraments, and acts of mercy.

Eighth, to be Wesleyan means to be involved in compassionate ministries. John Wesley always believed that it was imperative that a follower of Jesus Christ be simultaneously committed to the essential vertical relationship with his or her Creator, and to the necessary and redemptive relationship to the rest of God’s Creation. If the latter is not present, Wesley insisted that there is something fundamentally wrong with the former. No position could be more clearly rooted in Christ, who stated in Matthew 25 that “whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” (NIV)

In our own day, may we see a revival of Methodism with such a strength and character that it regains its ability to welcome and advance the Kingdom of God.

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ Why Can’t We Just Be Humanitarians?

The brilliance of the World Methodist Conference is still shifting through my mind, light through a suncatcher hanging on a window.

Parade of Banners in Opening Worship
Parade of Banners in Opening Worship

The days in Houston were color, sound, faces, laughter, weeping, worship, intensity, frustration, revelation. I met people and forgot names. I met people and remembered names. I saw textiles woven with Methodist patterns, saris shimmering, archbishop caps velvety and plush; music, art, science, all pinned up by prayer and thanksgiving and yearning and the plastic mechanics of translation headsets. There were laughing reunions of old friends, businesslike introductions, notes hastily scribbled while listening to profound speaker after profound speaker, paper business cards exchanged. Houston humidity was hanging heavy on the air, the heaviness clouding the jetlagged faces of international delegates. Energy emitted from others in waves strong enough they could’ve charged a few of the always-dying smartphones of delegates and participants.

Parsing out such a gathering takes months.

A couple of undercurrents of thought emerged, though. They bubbled up in chats, they surfaced in workshops and seminars, they popped up in a plenary or two. One current was simple joyous celebration in the very bringing together of such a globally diverse gathering. Attendees were glad to be present with so many other people from countries most have never been to. The parade of banners in Opening Worship illustrated just how far the Wesley brothers’ influence traveled. The Methodist Church of Tonga? Fiji? Southern Africa? Kyrgyrzstan? Italy? And then there were Nazarenes, United Methodists, A.M.E. Zions, Wesleyans, C.M.E.s, A.M.E.s, Free Methodists, all branching out into the world from the United States. Methodism has been

Creative Worship Segment, World Methodist Conference 2016
Creative Worship Segment, World Methodist Conference 2016

present in many nations around the world for over a century. At one point, in fact, early in Methodist days, a well-meaning evangelist sailed to the Caribbean only to find that Methodism was already there, thanks to the work of an earnest layperson.

Another current that emerged was the nature of our continued engagement with our world. And it was here that some different perspectives emerged. Both views fully affirmed the value of social justice and works of mercy; the crux was revealed in how they went about it.

In one workshop, handouts were distributed encouraging ministers not to ever try to evangelize a person from another faith (though “evangelize” was not defined). It recommended not only learning from another person’s faith (a laudable effort in itself), but rather accepting that no religion has a unique truth claim, and therefore it is inappropriate to suggest that yours does.

In the same workshop, a Bishop with a great deal of experience partnering with Muslim leaders to fight common diseases expressed a sense of frustration at this approach, asserting that his Muslim friends would not take him seriously if he was apologetic for his faith, and that he was comfortable working in interreligious partnerships while also being comfortable in his own skin as a Christian.

In conversations, I noted a slight change in demeanor occasionally when I explained my job title: Associate Director of World Methodist Evangelism. There was hesitancy while I briefly shared our vision of faith sharing, and a bit of polite social distance when I described the value of approaching faith sharing through word, deed, and sign. In other words, providing hurricane relief or microloans or wells for clean water is wonderful; doing it in the name of Christ, along with proclamation and prayer, could become aggressive, intolerant and disrespectful.

And yet there was another subtext also potentially lacking a robust appreciation of the redemption of all Creation: that anything not accompanied by explicit sharing of the message of Christ is wasted (a line of thinking woefully lacking in a full theology of prevenient grace; Jesus healed nine lepers who walked away healthy yet lacking spiritual insight, but he healed them nonetheless, and that was a good thing).

So let’s quickly sketch out the Christian theology behind this discussion, for a bit of clarity.

Special or specific revelation can refer to the revelation of the nature of God through the Incarnation of the person of Jesus Christ. It refers to the special revelation of God through the unique supernatural means.

General revelation can refer to awareness of God through reason or nature, accessible to anyone through natural means.

Now if you don’t like that distinction or those definitions, you can take it up with St. Thomas Aquinas. For our purposes, they’re helpful.

If you embrace the postmodern assumption that nothing can be known for certain, then you wrestle with the idea of special or specific or supernatural revelation. After all, it would be arrogant to claim one person has special revelation in that context. And extremists (in the Middle East) who kill civilians by blowing themselves up or who (in North America) picket military funerals in protest of homosexuality claim special revelation, and we don’t want to be like them. Furthermore, the lives of those who claim to follow a religion of special revelation (like Christianity or Islam) often fall woefully short. When a pastor is jailed for child abuse, what then? There is an extraordinary deeply felt lack of optimism when it comes to the competing claims of world religions.

What, then, provides for optimism? The hope that those religions can emphasize what they hold in common, in order to provide tangible help to the suffering. And that, in itself, is not a bad thing. It’s good when a Bishop has close Muslim friends with whom he works to eradicate a terrible disease. It’s good when pastors mourn when a local imam is killed. It’s good when imams mourn when pastors are killed.

The questions that Christians must answer are what we believe, why we believe it, why we are Christians, and, at a conference like the World Methodist Conference, why we are Methodists.

I am not a Methodist so that I can be a better humanitarian. I appreciate humanitarians; they do a lot of good in the world, and that is a great thing. There are many organizations I could join to be a good humanitarian, though, and they have a lot less parliamentary law.

And I am not a Methodist out of sentimentality for my upbringing in Wesleyan Methodist theology. I appreciate heritage; it guides us in our identity and values. There are many organizations I could join to appreciate heritage, though, and they have a lot less parliamentary law.

Wesleyan Methodism is a way for me to be a Christian. If I did not believe in the specific revelation of the nature of God through Jesus Christ, I would not be a Christian. I wouldn’t waste my time with the parliamentary law of denominations or fellowships or conferences. If I just wanted to make the world a better place, I would join Greenpeace or the Red Cross or the Peace Corps or the U.N. (though that last one would reburden me with parliamentary law). I want the world to be a better place and I’m thankful for those organizations. They do a lot of great, worthwhile work.

Holy Communion at the Closing Worship Service
Holy Communion at the Closing Worship Service

But I am a Christian who wants the world to be a better place. And I value Wesleyan Methodism as a way to be a Christian. And if I follow Christ – imperfectly, believing more fully some days than others – if I choose to follow Christ, then that shapes how I interact with the world. And I will talk about Jesus because without Jesus I’m a jerk. And when I see a great initiative about wells for villages I will think of Jesus sitting by a well talking to a woman who, in my town, would be the woman with the smeared mascara and cheap dye job still wearing yesterday’s clothes. And when people ask about my Christ medallion, I smile. I’ve eaten Saltines with a sip of Welch’s, I’ve eaten Hawaiian bread with a sip of grape juice, I’ve dissolved a wafer on my tongue with a sip of port wine, and I’ve tasted in all of them the Body of Christ, the Blood of Christ.

I’ve eaten with Muslims and agnostics, with atheists and Wiccans, with Buddhists and Baptists. I enjoy breaking bread with people who are different than I am. I don’t want any of them to go hungry. I want to share what I have with them, whether they ever believe what I believe or not.

But I’m also comfortable with my vocational call to proclaim Jesus Christ, and him crucified – or as I told my first congregation, “if I didn’t believe this, I wouldn’t waste your time; if I ever stop believing, I’ll stop preaching.” That’s not refusing to wrestle with doubt; it’s not refusing to admit struggle or suffering; it’s not a claim to superior knowledge or holiness. It’s Ebenezer: here, by God’s help, I’ve come, as I wrote here.

evang-committee
World Methodist Council Committee on Evangelism Meets

Humanitarian work is valuable, deeply so. Just The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation alone illustrates that. One could say it is a means of general revelation. (Although I should note that Melinda Gates is open about her Catholic faith.) And if someone’s deep skepticism about goodness in the world is lessened because I hold a door open for her, all the better: perhaps that will soften her heart to consider whether there might be a benevolent Creator.

The work of the church, however – the work of the Body of Christ, the Church Universal – always goes beyond general revelation. It proclaims Christ, even as newly sainted Mother Teresa did when she taught her sisters that to touch a smelling, diseased, infected, helpless man or woman was to touch Jesus. Witness requires sacrifice; it requires self-denial. Even Jesus prayed, “Father – not this. Not this…” And so while, as good Wesleyan Methodists, we seek to become more and more Christlike, perhaps the Spirit makes us so by allowing us to treat others – no matter how repulsive we personally may find them – as if they were Jesus in the flesh.

It is the only way to keep hate from seeping into my heart: hate towards groups like Westboro; hate towards racists and rapists; hate towards bigots and big-mouths; hate towards bullies and exploiters. I have found that, Jesus’ “goodness, like a [leash], binds my wandering heart to thee.”

Christ has died – to make all things new, as we are anointed to carry out alongside him through the Holy Spirit.

Christ is risen – conquering the ugliest realities of the universe, a sign that death will die, as we are anointed to proclaim through the Holy Spirit as we bring life to dying people and places.

Christ will come again – breathing the promise of God’s Kingdom fully realized, a way of being where there is no more crying, no more pain, and we share this promise when we work to relieve suffering, as we are anointed to proclaim the healing of the nations through the Holy Spirit.

Yes, we speak of Jesus, because we cannot be silent. In our work, in our prayers, our hearts’ cry is the Son of God, Emmanuel, God With Us, Bright and Morning Star. It is through the light of Christ we see, and by his wounds we are healed. It is his Body we celebrate, the Word Made Flesh, and it is on this mystery we meditate while volunteering at soup kitchens or planting community gardens or shoveling a widow’s driveway or paying the utility bills for a laid-off neighbor or structuring a microloan process for former sex workers.

We follow Jesus wherever he leads, we celebrate his company, and we invite you to walk with us on our pilgrimage. You may say no; we’ll still share water from our canteen. You may say no; we’ll still offer bandages for your blisters. You may say no; we’ll still tell roadside jokes, tears streaming down our faces from laughter. But this? This is how we walk.

Won’t you walk with us?

David Drury ~ Lost Faith and Piles of Laundry

I moved into my dorm room at college and unpacked a few suitcases and boxes. I took up half of the dresser and half of the closet. I had a long move-in-day to myself getting ready for classes the next morning.

At nearly midnight my roommate showed up. After bringing in a few books and assorted items, he then carried in two trash bags full of clothes, which he dumped into one large pile in the corner of the room, apparently done unpacking.

Each day I would go into the dresser or closet to select clothes, and then my roomie would go to his pile and put on clothes, none of which had been folded. Of course, this was the height of the “grunge-era” and so wearing a pair of jeans with a crumpled flannel shirt was what you might select for a fancy date. So he was set.

Over time the one pile would become two. The first remaining clean, but unfolded, and the second being the clothes that had been worn once or twice, or even three times. As the first pile got smaller he would dress from the second with more frequency. He still tells me, “Some clothes are dirty, Dave, they just need a rest is all.”

Eventually the two piles became three. The third being the clothes that were worn so much they necessitated separation from the pack of merely “lightly worn” clothes, lest the stink rub off.

I had a name for the three piles: “The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

When you look back on it, I wonder if you have had your own share of the good, the bad, and the ugly in your life.

THE GOOD

The good are the things that have gone your way. You dated someone you wanted so badly, and you got married. You got the job you had in your sights. Your career flourished. Or you had kids that look better than you. You got awards and achieved goals. Maybe a few degrees. Things came together for you, and you got some of the good things in life.

THE BAD

Other times were the bad ones. You lost a job. Or a loved one. Your health. Maybe even a marriage. You were betrayed: wronged in some way by a boss, a pastor, a co-worker, a family member, a church, a school, or that a friend you don’t talk to anymore. Hard times hit. The bad started to pile up and it all hit the fan.

THE UGLY

Some of your life has even been ugly. This is the stuff you don’t want to admit. The bad is what others did to you. The ugly is what you did to them. You were the one who wronged someone. You betrayed a friend, a family member, a co-worker. Maybe even a spouse. This is the stuff you’re ashamed of, the really ugly stuff you’d rather I not talk about right now.

DISTRACTING

The good stuff may have distracted you from God. It has a way of doing that. It’s not like you actively resisted God, you just forgot about him. In the busyness of life, family, and work, your faith just sort of slipped away. It became less of a priority. The irony is you might even work in a Christian organization, but even all of that distracted you from a truly personal faith in God.

ANGRY

The bad stuff just makes you mad. You’re angry at those people that betrayed you, or those groups. You might be mad at the kinds of organizations that hurt you in the past–or certain kinds of people. You never thought you would discriminate, but you would admit that certain kinds and groups of people are suspicious to you–because you’ve been burnt. You might even be angry at God for letting all this happen.

RUNNING

The ugly parts of your life make you run from God. You’d rather not be in places that bring up this stuff in your mind. Others might not even know about it–but you do–and when things start to feel “convicting” you are out of there. You might even stop reading this because of it. You label things that make you feel this way as a “guilt trip” and figure it’s not worth the heartache to go over it all. “Forgive and forget,” you’d like others to say, but you haven’t even forgiven yourself.

**********

I don’t know if it’s the good, the bad, or the ugly that has robbed you of your faith, but I’m here to tell you that you can get it back.

Jesus found out a friend of his had died, and he wept about it. Jesus had a whole lot of “the bad pile” in his life too, remember. His friend was named Lazarus.

As he walked up to the place where he was entombed, Martha, the sister of Lazarus, practically scolded Jesus in her grief, “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Sister Mary came out and said the same thing. 

Jesus told Martha, “Your brother will rise again.”

Thinking this was just “end times talk” she replied, “Yes… he will rise when everyone else rises, at the last day.”

But Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even after dying.”

Jesus had them roll the stone aside, shouting,“Lazarus, come out!” And Lazarus did. The dead rose again. A resurrection.

Your faith may feel as dead as that man in the tomb. But today I’m asking you to consider letting God raise it to life again.

You may have many objections. Mary and Martha did. They had quite a bit of faith–but raising people from the dead was beyond their faith. You may think it would be impossible to believe again.

You may have doubts you’ve never been able to shrug off. You have data you’ve looked at. You have experiences you can’t overcome. You might even have some practical objections–things you don’t think could work out.

Martha did too, when Jesus wanted the tomb opened, she said, “The smell will be terrible.” (Which, coincidentally, is the exact same thing I had to tell friends walking near my roommate’s third pile of clothes.)

Jesus shouts over all your objections to the resurrection of your faith, saying, “Dead faith, come forth!”

And it will walk right out of the tomb of your doubt. It will. If you listen for his voice. For he is calling you.

He wants to recapture what the good, bad, and the ugly has robbed of you.

He wants to resurrect you.

Will you let him?

LAUNDRY

As the semester marched on for my roomie, the first pile, the good one, would disappear. He would be relegated to fishing through the bad pile, and in desperation, sometimes even the ugly pile, in order to get a whole outfit together. I knew things had gotten bad when he would push all the clothes he owned into one pile, bumming quarters off a few of us, and taking his pile to the laundry room at the end of the hall.

It was nice when he came back with a huge pile of clean clothes. Of course he would drop into one good pile in the corner and it would all start over again.

I hope you have mostly good piles from here on out–but whatever you face, know that you’re never beyond the voice of Jesus calling into the dark places of life, wanting to resurrect your faith.

 

David Drury is the author or co-author of a half-dozen books including Transforming Presence, Being Dad, SoulShift, Ageless Faith, Duckville, & The Fruitful Life. He serves as the Chief of Staff to the General Superintendent of The Wesleyan Church. He previously served as a local church pastor in five congregations in the Midwest as a church planter, solo pastor, or staff pastor in urban, suburban, and rural settings. He has degrees from Indiana Wesleyan University, Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, and Kingswood University.

Read more at www.daviddrury.com.