how to preach with wesley and the early american methodists

Donald Haynes shares this from his recent “Wesleyan Wisdom” column in the United Methodist Reporter, “Recovering the Power of Wesleyan Preaching“. It is a list of the attributes of “Methodist preaching from Wesley’s time through the 19th century” determined by a prominent chronicler of the movement (“David Hempton, an Irish Methodist who teaches at Harvard Divinity School, writes in his book Methodism: Empire of the Spirit“). I imagine I stack up well on some and not as good on others. Not that it should go without critical engagement, but this is a good list we’d do well to reference for modern preaching in our Methodist tribe.

According to Dr. Hempton, Methodist preaching from Wesley’s time through the 19th century was:

  • based on a selected biblical text (not a prescribed one);
  • delivered extemporaneously or from a loose structure of notes;
  • designed to evoke a response—conversion, sanctification or “warmed up” spirituality;
  • delivered in plain language, enlivened by illustration, anecdote or humor;
  • within the accepted canon of Wesleyan-Arminian theology
  • measured by fruitfulness, not eloquence;
  • communicated more from heart to heart than from head to head, not bypassing the mind but not aimed directly at it;
  • based on accepting the authority of the Scripture at face value; and
  • preached by preachers of much the same social status as their listeners.

joseph’s path to the manger

A good reputation is an important thing. With a good reputation, we expect good references when seeking employment. With a good reputation, we hope people will be quick to believe a good report about us and skeptical about a bad report.

The limiting thing about our reputation is that it is essentially other people’s impression of our character, though not our character itself.

Joseph’s path to the manger is found in Matthew 1:18-25. Mary, Joseph’s wife-to-be, is discovered to be pregnant. Joseph is a “righteous man.” Problem. For Joseph, being a “righteous man” was not simply the sum of morally upright or religiously observant actions, though it included those things. To be a “righteous man” meant holding a particular social status in his community.

His standing as a righteous man demands that he separate himself from so obviously sinful a woman as Mary, which in New Testament times would have meant publicly disgracing and shaming her through divorce (betrothal, though not yet marriage, was legally binding and required divorce in order to sever). But as we see in verse 19: “Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly” (NIV 2010). He is a righteous man, faithful to the law, but also merciful (We’ve met religiously observant people who were nevertheless merciless. Worse, we’ve sometimes been that person.). So he plans to go with the only other option he is aware of, a private divorce with two witnesses. Effective and quiet — a win/win.

But God has a different plan. In a dream, he tells Joseph that Mary is pregnant by the Holy Spirit. I imagine Joseph realizing this is somehow God’s action and putting together that Mary is not to blame for potentially destroying his reputation, God is! “Do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife.”

Joseph’s path to the manger, his path to adopting and raising the boy Jesus, demands that he lay down his reputation within his community in order to be faithful to his calling from God. Joseph’s path sheds light on our paths. We too must lay down our reputations in order to embrace the character and calling we have in Christ. And we must lay it down in two ways.

First, in order to receive Christ, we must lay down our reputation, as we’ve built it up to ourselves and others, as people who have our act together, are capable of providing for ourselves and living the life we’re designed by God for. To prepare for Holy Communion, we confess our sins, which is a beginning. Further, we confess not only our moral failures, but also our utter neediness and complete dependence on Christ for everything in our life. Our culture has accomplished much because of its value on self-reliance and belief in our own abilities and industriousness. But that’s not much help in this journey. To receive Christ, we must come to grips with the depth of our need for him.

Second, in order to serve Christ (and this is the direct parallel with Joseph’s situation), we must lay down our reputation in order to extend Christ to people. To serve God’s purposes, Joseph had to lay down his reputation, marry Mary, and raise Jesus as his own son. I think of how this played into the ministry of Jesus, a man who though sinless was considered “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners” (Matthew 11:18-19). John Wesley described his transition from preaching in the sanctuaries to preaching in the fields by saying he “resolved to become more vile” in the eyes of “respectable” people in order to reach people for Christ.

We are not to brush aside our character, for that is who and what we actually are. But truly coming to Christ does mean laying down our reputation in the eyes of ourselves and others in order to be true to our character and calling before God. Joseph’s path helps to show us the way.

life’s defining moments – fall sermon series

We hit another milestone in our family a week and a half ago. We sent Ben, our oldest, to Kindergarten. Later that night one of our good friends in ministry had their first child, a baby boy. I couldn’t help but think about the significance of those milestones, becoming first-time parents and dropping off a child for their first day of school. Many junctures in life stand out because of their significance: graduations, weddings, first jobs, parenthood, losing a loved one, retirement, and so many more. And so often, because of their significance, they become one of the defining moments in our lives.

Though some moments loom large on life’s horizon, other defining moments sometimes sneak up on us. Someone asks us a question we continue to ponder. We read a profound quote in a book. We are presented with a challenging project. We witness an act of generosity, or cruelty. We are inspired by someone’s life story. We learn a haunting truth. All of these situations seem to demand a response of some sort on our part. This is what makes a moment a defining moment. How will we respond? What choices will we make? Who will we become?

The Bible is full of stories of defining moments such as these.

This Sunday, September 5, we begin a ten-part series of messages at our church — First UMC of Atlanta, Texas, looking at defining moments as people had encounters with Jesus in John’s Gospel.

Care to share a defining moment story from your life in the comments here or on my facebook? Thanks!

bread of life

Several months ago, I picked up the little book Food Rules: An Eater’s Manual, by Michael Pollan. Pollan is a journalist who researched what his family should eat in order to be healthy. He recorded some of his journey and learnings in two other books (In Defense of Food and The Omnivore’s Dilemma), but in Food Rules, he distills the wisdom gained from this project into a short book of rules that we can readily apply to our eating habits. These are not all easy, but they are practical and some are downright funny too.

Here’s a sample:

  • Don’t eat anything your great-grandmother would recognize as food.
  • If it came from a plant, eat it; if it was made in a plant, don’t.
  • It’s not food if it arrived through the window of your car.

This is my favorite: “Avoid foods that are pretending to be something they are not.”

In John 6:35, Jesus says, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” John’s Gospel does not narrate the Last Supper, in which Jesus institutes what we celebrate as Holy Communion, the Lord’s Supper, or the Eucharist, depending on what sort of church you’re involved with. Even though John does not narrate a Last Supper, we should have little trouble seeing that John addresses the sacred meal in the way he brings out Jesus’ teaching on being the bread of life here in these verses (John 6:25-59).

With Jesus, we may also assert: “Avoid things that are pretending to be something they are not.” Jesus is the bread of life; he is our true nourishment, so we are to avoid things that are pretending to be something they are not—our Savior, or our Lord.

When it comes to who or what to center our life, our identity, and our worth on, there are plenty of possibilities. Of course there are outright bad things to center our life on. Most of those are represented by and addiction and/or an -ism. And some people do make those choices. But for many of us, that is not as big of a problem as our preoccupation with making good things into ultimate things.

In his short novel on one man’s vision of heaven, C.S. Lewis has his narrator witness a woman unable to understand why her son is so happy and content in God’s heavenly presence. She is jealous for his full attention because she had made her son the complete focus of her life. The narrator asks his guide (each character newly experiencing heaven has a guide) to help him understand the tension here. His guide responds that bronze is more often mistaken for gold than clay is. Translation: It is simpler to distinguish what is bad from what is ultimate than it is to distinguish what is very good from what is ultimate.

Think about that. The great things in life—family, health, success, work we love—these are the very things that are more likely to become substitutes for Jesus Christ in our lives. Why? Because they are so good. The saying, “avoid things that are pretending to be something they are not” is helpful here. Some things (addictions, -isms) pretend outright to be our Savior and/or our Lord. The truth is that regarding the best things, we do the pretending. And when we do we place a burden on things like family, health, success, and work, that they are not capable of carrying. But when we stop our pretending and center ourselves on Christ alone for our identity and worth, we are able to receive those good things for what they are—gifts from him.

“I am the bread of life… Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them.” (John 6:35a, 54-56 TNIV)

the good shepherd

Earlier this summer I was a Scripture reader in a cousin’s wedding. It was the first time in some time that I had a role in a wedding other than that of presiding pastor. In the back, prior to the service, one of the pastors (there were three — the bride had several clergy in the family) referred to his wife as his “first wife.” I’ve heard the joke before. But somehow it struck me that the mentality behind the humor—that he’s considering his current wife his first (which assumes that at some point he’ll get around to moving on to a second wife and someday perhaps a third) is not one that a person can hold in their mind while standing at the altar, offering vows to another.

We’re hoping for more. Something inside us desires unconditional and unlimited love. And one thing we discover in life is that we do not find the unconditional, unlimited love we are searching for. On top of this, we also find that we fail to perfectly offer the unconditional and unlimited love that we desire to receive. We encounter this reality in our relationship with our parents at some point, with friends, with mentors, with social circles… The list could go on.

And yet, we feel like an unconditional, unlimited love is “out there” somewhere. It continues to be our standard.

Now, entering John 10:11-18 with this in mind, let’s look at five characters in Jesus’ teaching here and their relationship to what we should know about what it means to experience Jesus as “The Good Shepherd.”

First, the thief. He is trying to gain access to the sheep by illegitimate means — by sneaking in some other way than the gate. And his job description is pretty simply stated in verse 10: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.” So, he engages the sheep, but only in order to live off of them.

Second, the stranger. The stranger, mentioned in vs 5, is not necessarily adversarial toward the sheep. The stranger’s distinguishing feature is that he is unknown to the sheep. He has no credibility. He does not seem to have poor intent, but he has no relational foundation from which to call the sheep.

Third, the hired hand. Like the thief, but unlike the stranger, the hired hand engages the sheep and even has some measure of responsibility for them. But his sense of obligation has limits. When danger threatens, he disappears.

Fourth, the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd is loving, caring, and self-giving. He knows the sheep and cares for them deeply and strongly. And the sheep know him too. They recognize him and can pick out his voice.

So what character remains to be fifth? I suggest it is the sheep themselves. And since the sheep represent us, they’re an important character to note. They are passive in Jesus’ teaching. Interestingly, their relationship is the one in focus for each of the other characters in the passage: thief, stranger, hired hand, shepherd. All of these characters respond differently to the sheep, but it is the same sheep all along.

So what explains the difference in how the sheep are treated?

It seems to be none other than the personal character of the various persons. The thief is devious, the stranger is indifferent, the hired hand is self-interested. The Good Shepherd is self-sacrificially loving. He seems to love not because these are such lovable sheep but rather because love is who he is. Are they excellent sheep? Are they terrible sheep? Jesus offers no commentary to this effect because it is irrelevant. They are just sheep. No characteristics to recommend them for the best shepherd available. No, they are just ordinary sheep, nothing special in and of themselves that the Good Shepherd would care for them so much.

We are the sheep; Jesus is the Good Shepherd. Does he love us because we are special, wonderful, exceptional, A-plus, first-team, first-chair, rising star, super-qualified sheep? Far be it from me to contradict your mother (or mine) and say you’re not special, but our qualities or lack of them has absolutely no bearing on the love of the Good Shepherd toward us. Are we excellent sheep? Are we terrible sheep? It is irrelevant — the Good Shepherd loves and cares for us regardless.

C.S. Lewis sums it up well: “God loves us not because we’re lovable, but because he is love.” Why not trust a Good Shepherd like that?

the gate for the sheep

There’s an SUV commercial from several years ago that resonates with me. The vehicle makes it way up a semi-rough mountain path to bring the driver to a gorgeous vista. Then the slogan… “Ford: No Boundaries”! I like it for two reasons. First, I’m a fan of the big outdoors. I love hiking, camping, and canoeing. If a vehicle is promising to deliver me into the semi-wild outdoors, I’m listening. Second, I like this idea of having no boundaries. After all, I want to stretch my wings, to get out of the box, to get loose from anything that might limit or hinder me. An SUV touting it’s capacity to deliver me to the realm of “no boundaries” seems like a good deal indeed. It sounds like the fullest life would be the one without limitations. But is this true? “No Boundaries” sounds enticing, but is it realistic? Does it deliver on its promise?

In the first half of John 10, Jesus is speaking the Pharisees and using the image of a shepherd, sheep, the sheep pen, and the threats to the sheep. The majority of the passage (John 10:1-21) is dominated by the comparison of Jesus to the shepherd of the sheep. We’ll talk about Jesus’ saying, “I AM the Good Shepherd,” from parable next week. For now, let’s look at a brief caveat in the passage, John 10:7-10, in which Jesus uses the metaphor of a gate for the sheep pen: “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved… The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (10:9-10 TNIV)

It seems from this teaching of Jesus that the fullest life we can live is one within the sheep-pen called God’s kingdom, entered into by a gate called Jesus. In other words, to live life “to the full,” we must first limit ourselves to life in God, which excludes certain things from our life.

I once met a woman who had been recently released from prison and was beginning life with her young children again. She had gotten too close to a man involved in using and dealing drugs. She was spiritually alive, hungry for God’s Word, and attentive to the work of God’s grace in her life. Part of her life had been stolen from her because she, at one time, had not had the right boundaries around her life. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy…”

An example from the other direction also illustrates the point. While in seminary I was introduced to the music of Christopher Parkening, one of the world’s leading classical guitarists. While a young boy he so fell in love with classical guitar music that he committed himself to practice two hours before school and two hours after school everyday. This no doubt limited him in life experiences, yet it released his passion and ability as a classical guitarist. Having seen him in concert, I’m thankful for the fruit of the boundaries and limits he accepted in order to become great.

Now, this seems like a generic life principle and it may be to a degree. But I think it shows up in the rest of life because it is first true spiritually. Living life to the full means accepting the boundaries of God’s sheep-pen, entered by a gate called Jesus.

And here’s another part to this. There are many gates beckoning. There are many manifestations of the thief who comes only to steal and kill and destroy. They promise to release us from boundaries, but ensnare and enslave us instead. Why not entrust ourselves to the one person who truly was unlimited, but who limited himself by love for our sake? He limited himself in order to become the Gate through which we enter into the fullest life possible. Limiting ourselves to life in God is the only way truly to “have life, and have it to the full.”

light of the world

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (Jesus, in John 8:12)

This is one of Jesus’ famous “I AM” sayings, unique to John’s Gospel. It is a powerful statement and, no doubt, robust with meaning. But one part of this saying has troubled me. It’s Jesus’ claim, “Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness.” How can that be? I’ve been working at following Jesus for most of my life, yet I have felt myself no stranger to a darkened and unsure path. Every Christian I know has at some point said the same.

Never walk in darkness? Really?

Consider this. There are two kinds of lights: search-light and lamp-light. And there are two places to be lit: inside us and outside us. So, which light goes where?

Our idea is this: Search-light on the outside and lamp-light on the inside. Why? Simple. On the one hand, most of us would give a great deal in order to see into the future with the search-light concerning our marriages, children, friendships, careers, financial decisions, etc. On the other hand, we are not so interested in God or anyone else seeing clearly into our inner life. The dimness of lamp-light will do fine there, thank you. We’d like our failures, hurts, sins, addictions, griefs, and embarrassments to remain in as much dark as possible.

But God has the exact opposite idea: Search-light on the inside and lamp-light on the outside. The truth is all people walk, at best, by lamp-light. If you’ve spent time sitting in a hospital, you’ve been someone, or been close to someone who’s been walking by lamp-light whether you or they wanted to or not. Finding a mate, being married, raising children, losing a job, starting a job, losing a friend or family member… all of these occasions and more remind us that we walk through life by lamp-light whether we want to or not. This is the way life works.

So, in Christ, God offers us a particular sort of lamp-light. Jesus is himself that lamp-light for life’s path. Much of our relationship with Jesus is spent learning lessons about trusting to walk by his lamp-light, that is, with only enough light to see the next one or two faithful steps. That’s it. He is reliable, but we must “trust and obey,” to quote the old hymn. But Jesus is also the search-light on the inside, bringing into the light the shame and pain, sin and hurt, that we tried desperately to keep in the dark. His light exposes, to be sure. But his light also heals, forgives, reconciles, and saves. His search-light deals with what’s on the inside of us that hinders our ability to “trust and obey” the lamp-light he offers to walk through life. Who else would we want to trust to be our lamp-light and to shine his search-light on us but Jesus? After all, he is the one who felt the brightness of the search-light in the Garden of Gethsemane (“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me”) yet who walked by lamp-light (“yet not my will, but yours be done”) all the way to the Cross in order to save, heal, forgive, and make us whole in him.

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world.” May we receive his search-light within so that we trust him to lead us by lamp-light through life.

strengthening our position

My youngest child is a couple months shy of two years old. Even now, as parents know, she is becoming adept at shifting strategies in order to find and apply the most effective way to strengthen her position with me. The other night, I was putting her back to bed around 1:00-ish a.m. At first, she went for the power approach: “Stop it, Daddy!” Personally, I like this one. Not because she’s being defiant, but because of going all the way with “stop it” instead of merely “no.” Creative. I’m impressed. But I’m also aggravated and not about to give in and reinforce this approach. Then, she changes strategies: “Please, Daddy…” Better.

Now, if we’re honest, we’ll admit that this business of hunting for the best way to strengthen our position is something we’re practicing as well — with our spouse, children, employer, employees, church, community organization, etc. And, truth be told, a fair amount of our praying boils down to vacillating between “Stop it, Daddy!” and “Please, Daddy…” But both are attempts at strengthening our position with God in order to get what we think we want.

But what is the truly strongest position spiritually?

Luke 22:39-44 records Jesus’ prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane and is helpful to us on this question.

Jesus leaves the upper room with his disciples and goes to the Mount of Olives. Withdrawing from them a short distance, he wrestles in prayer: “Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering from me” (Luke 22:42a NLT). Notice here that at this point Jesus does not want to suffering, does not desire to go to the cross. This is remarkable. Among all the reasons he’s come to earth — to life a perfect life, reveal God’s love, preach and teach about God’s kingdom, show God’s power in healings and miracles — one reason that stands out clearly is that he came to die on the cross. But here in Luke’s Gospel, we see him praying for a different end to the night. Still, Jesus continues: “Yet I want your will to be done, not mine” (v42b). Though in this moment the weight of the task before him has him reluctant to go forward, his greater desire is the will of the Father. And we read next, “Then an angel from heaven appeared and strengthened him.”

Jesus’ strongest position was in surrender to the will of God. Our greatest position of strength is in surrender to the Father’s will.

Personally, I’m more likely to seek God’s comfort, wisdom, or power in my life rather than his will. What if a taste of his comfort, wisdom, and power are given generally? What if receiving his comfort, wisdom, and power in our lives in the full abundance in which he would like to share them entails seeking and surrendering to his will for us?

Our greatest position of strength is surrender to the Father’s will for us. For in that surrender, he appears to us and strengthens us.

religious scholarship’s favorite goat ever (holy land trip)

In 1947, in desert hills near the Dead Sea, a goat wandered away from the flock to which it belonged. It stumbled into one of the many caves in the hills. The pair of Bedouin goat-herders tending the herd tossed rocks into the caves to try and find the goat when they heard a cracking sound. When they investigated, they found clay jars containing scrolls with writing on them. One of them tore one of the documents inside out of frustration and disappointment that they had not stumbled upon treasure as they had hoped. But the other told him to wait. He knew a man in Jerusalem, called an “antiquities dealer,” who had been willing to buy all sorts of useless stuff from him. He would probably be interested in this discovery, so maybe they could make some money off of it after all.

There’s plenty more to the story, some truly amazing twists and turns. But one of the striking features about the discovery to me is the very first step in the whole story. The goat. A single humble animal of little significance to most of the world. But without that proverbial domino falling, the rest of the story is voided. Interesting. Without a doubt, he’s the most important goat in the history of religious scholarship.

holden caulfield on… prayer?

So… I’m reading The Catcher in the Rye, by JD Salinger for the first time right now. I really enjoy Salinger’s style; I can see how this book is so popular from that aspect alone. Early on (in ch 3), I ran into this quotation from the main character, one Holden Caulfield, on how he evaluates the books he reads. It strikes me as an apt approach to Scripture and prayer as well.

What knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it.

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