I’m A Lifelong Methodist – So What? Wesley Day (a day late!) Romans 5:1-11

Romans 5:1-11

Sometimes, when I arrive at a church for the first time, a person will approach me and introduce themselves. In the middle of their greeting, they will tell me, ‘I’m a lifelong Methodist.’ Their clear assumption is that I will be impressed.

More often than not, though, my heart sinks.

And I say that as someone who is also a life-long Methodist.

Because what they tend to mean is something like this. They love the hymns, the style of worship, the variety of preachers from week to week, and so on.

But I don’t want to know whether you like those things. I want to know – if you like Charles Wesley’s hymns, do you have the very experience of God in your life that Wesley wrote about and that his elder brother John preached about? If all you like are the hymns, you may have Methodist style but you don’t have Methodist substance.

And substance is what matters.

In my first circuit as a minister, some people tried to divide the church over the question of music in worship. Some members wanted us to introduce more contemporary worship songs and hymns alongside the traditional material. But some of the ‘lifelong Methodist’ contingent wouldn’t have it.

The tragedy was that those who wanted to add the contemporary to what we already had still loved the Wesley hymns. But they loved them not for the poetry or the melodies (many of which come from after the Wesleys’ time anyway!). No: they loved them, because they had the experience of the Holy Spirit that Charles Wesley described in those hymns. They had the substance. The critics just had the style.

And so since yesterday was the anniversary of John Wesley’s profound experience of faith and assurance in Christ through the Holy Spirit warming his heart at an address in the Barbican, I thought we should take today to examine whether we too have that knowledge of hearts being strangely warmed by the redeeming work of God.

The way I’m going to do this is by summarising Wesleyan beliefs under what have been called ‘The Four ‘Alls’ of Methodism’. Each of the four ‘All’ statements pertains to salvation.

And the first ‘All’ is that All need to be saved.

When John Wesley preached in the open air to the crowds, he used to say that first of all he preached ‘Law’ and then he preached ‘Grace.’ He spoke first about God’s law, to show God’s standards for life and to make it clear that we all fail to reach those standards. The word most commonly translated ‘sin’ in the New Testament means ‘to miss the mark.’ As Romans 3:23 famously puts it,

All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

We have failed. We need grace.

If you grow up in the church, you can easily miss this. I did. I grew up hearing people being asked whether they were Christians and answering, ‘I’m trying to be a Christian.’ This communicated to me that Christianity could be summed up like a simple mathematical equation: Christianity equals believing in God plus doing good.

I was so wrong.

My mother even bought me a book that was a popular exposition of Romans, showing that faith, rather than good works, led to salvation. I tossed it aside as rubbish.

It was only when I went to series of church membership classes with members of the church youth group, that things clicked – and only then at the final session, when we looked at the service for the reception of new members. There were three promises and professions of faith the candidates had to make. Do you repent of your sins? Do you trust in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour? Will you obey Christ and serve him in the world?

The penny dropped, at last.

Just as John Wesley had tried to live a methodical, holy life but was riddled with fear until his heart was strangely warmed, so God intervened through the words of that liturgy and I found myself responding.

It doesn’t matter how good and how respectable our lives and upbringings are. Each one of us is a sinner. We fail God’s standards. We need to be saved.

The second ‘All’ is that All can be saved.

The person who urged John Wesley to preach in the open air, first of all to colliers at Kingswood near Bath, was George Whitefield. While Whitefield was generally reckoned to be a better preacher than Wesley, they sharply differed on one issue. Whitefield, as a Calvinist, believed that Jesus only died for the ‘elect.’ That is, God had predestined some people to be saved and others to be damned.

Wesley disagreed. He did not believe that all people would be saved, but he did believe that all people could be saved. Therefore, the Gospel should be shared with as many as possible, so that people might have the opportunity of responding and receiving salvation from God by grace through faith thanks to the death and resurrection of Jesus.

While this debate still exists in parts of the Christian world, Wesley set the direction of travel very clearly for the Methodist movement. All can be saved, and that means sharing the Gospel is a priority. Sadly, I’m not sure you would guess that from the behaviours and priorities of many Methodist congregations today, but if you say you are a traditional Methodist, then this is in your spiritual DNA. It is not the only part of mission, but it is a key part.

Today, in other ways, there are people who think they can’t be saved. They’ve been too bad. They’ve been so damaged they can’t recognise goodness and grace when it is offered to them. Perhaps it’s expressed in words from the rock band Coldplay in a song of theirs called ‘Viva La Vida’:

For some reason I can’t explain
I know Saint Peter won’t call my name[1]

While the song is about a king who has lost his kingdom, it’s poignant to hear those words sung by Chris Martin, who grew up in a Christian family in Devon.

But it is our privilege to make it known to people that none of them need say, I can’t be saved. The love of God is on offer to all. It simply requires a response of opening out empty hands in faith to receive his gift.

The third ‘All’ is that All can know they are saved.

This is what we call the Christian doctrine of assurance. It is that we can be assured of having saving faith.

Various strands of Christianity had advanced ideas of how believers could know their eternal destiny for certain. At the more Catholic end,  it was simply by receiving the sacraments of the Church, but not all found that convincing. What if an unrepentant scoundrel took the sacraments? Tragically, this left many Catholics uncertain of God’s grace and love.

In the Reformation, Calvinists said you could know from the promises of God in Scripture. However, even those who were supposedly reprobates, not part of the elect, could also read Scripture. So some later Calvinists looked in the Bible for signs of God’s blessing upon people. Unfortunately, they landed on things such as those who received material wealth in the Old Testament. We see the legacy of this mistake even today in the so-called ‘Prosperity Gospel’, which really is no Gospel at all.

Wesley certainly had a place for believing in the promises of Scripture, and he also believed that the sacraments had power. But he added something else: the inner witness of the Holy Spirit. It’s there in Romans 5, which we read (one of Wesley’s favourite passages, by the way):

hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. (Verse 5)

To those who, as in the title of the song recorded by both Dusty Springfield and David Cassidy, asked, ‘How can I be sure?’, Wesley answered that as well as receiving comfort from the presence of Christ at the sacraments and applying the promises of God in Scripture, you could know and feel the assuring work within you by the Holy Spirit.

It was what he had experienced at Aldersgate Street in the Barbican, when he said that his heart was strangely warmed and he felt he did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation.

It was what Charles wrote about in ‘O for a thousand tongues’ in the climactic verse:

In Christ, our Head, you then shall know,
shall feel your sins forgiven,
anticipate your heaven below,
and own that love is heaven.[2]

This is all part of the Good News. God doesn’t want you to be in any doubt of his saving love for you.

The fourth and final ‘All’ is that All can be saved to the uttermost.

This is John Wesley’s controversial doctrine of Christian Perfection. Wesley based it on texts such as the words of Jesus:

Be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect. (Matthew 5:48)

Even Wesley realised there were problems with this view. He said it wasn’t so much as believing you could get to a point of not sinning at all as about not knowingly engaging in any conscious sin. He also was clear that he didn’t classify himself as perfect, and that he only in his lifetime ever knew one or two people whom he could call perfect, even by his own revised definition.

Furthermore, it is a debatable understanding of the words of Jesus. For the word translated ‘perfect’ might not mean ‘morally perfect.’ It might mean ‘mature.’

So how do we take this? I found some words of my college Principal about this helpful. He said that behind this controversial teaching of Wesley’s was what he called ‘an optimism of grace.’ And I think that’s a good lesson for us. We should always be optimistic about what God by his grace can accomplish in our lives and in the lives of others.

This means advancing in holiness, both in our private lives and in social dimensions. For this, we need the ongoing sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit – something to remember when Pentecost comes up in a couple of weeks.

And to achieve this, Wesley set up his famous small groups so that members could hold each other accountable for growing in grace and supporting one another. George Whitefield, whom I mentioned earlier, realised that this was Wesley’s genius: he organised converts into small groups for their spiritual growth. Whitefield didn’t, and in contrast, many of his converts didn’t stick: he sadly described them as ‘a rope of sand.’

To be a traditional Methodist, then, means having a holy dissatisfaction with our lives, but also a great hope in God’s grace to transform us, and a commitment to small-group relationships that will help us in that growth.

Conclusion

So – if you say you are a lifelong or traditional Methodist – are these things your knowledge and experience? And I ask the same question if you have been attracted to Methodism in mid-life.

Do you know your need to be saved?

Do you know you can be saved?

Do you have assurance that you have been saved?

And is God saving you more and more, even one day to the uttermost?


[1] Songwriters: Christopher A. J. Martin, Guy Rupert Berryman, Jonathan Mark Buckland, William Champion; lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

[2] Charles Wesley (1707-1788), italics mine.

New Series: Paul’s Favourite Church; 1. Christians Under Construction (Philippians 1:1-11)

Philippians 1:1-11

How do you choose a church? Some of us don’t: we grow up in it. My sister and I were fifth generation, same congregation.

Others of us move into an area and look for a new church. We may consider the denomination, the style of worship, or the theological outlook. We may look for one that has good children’s ministry. North American research has suggested that on that continent the number one consideration is the quality of the preaching.

But these options weren’t available in the early decades of Christianity. You came to faith and you joined the local group of believers in your city, who probably met in one of the larger Roman houses owned by a wealthy member of the congregation, and that was that.

Yet for an apostle like Paul, travelling from place to place planting new churches and overseeing them, there was an opportunity to see which churches were doing better. And while you might argue he shouldn’t have had favourites, the warmth of his letter to the Philippians contrasts strongly with the way he has to speak to some of the other churches, such as the Galatians and the Corinthians.

This doesn’t mean the Philippians were perfect: we shall encounter some issues they had as we explore the letter. But it does mean we can get an idea of what made them so attractive to Paul. And that may help us as we seek to be an appealing and attractive congregation today. Listen to his warm words in verses 7 and 8 to get a sense of his feelings for them:

It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart and, whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God’s grace with me. God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.

In the surrounding verses, we hear of his joy, his confidence, and his aspirations for the Philippians. When we hear the substance of his joy, confidence, and aspirations we get a sense of why he loved them so much. From that we can ponder whether we have these lovable traits, too.

So firstly, why is Paul joyful?

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now

He is joyful, because the Philippians are in partnership with him in the gospel. In what ways have they done this?

We know from later in the letter that they have sent gifts via a courier named Epaphroditus to help Paul in need. That might be financial support, or that might be material provisions, especially because he is dictating this letter from prison. In those days, friends and family of the prisoner had to supply their everyday needs, such as food.

We also know that two women in the congregation called Euodia and Syntyche and a man named Clement have been missionaries or evangelists alongside Paul.

Partnership in the gospel is not just a matter of words but of deeds for the Philippians. They have raised money – not just generally for charity, but specifically for the work of the gospel. And they have sent people to be part of God’s mission. They have skin in the game.

In what ways do we go into partnership in the gospel? Take the question of raising funds. Many churches are good at doing that for charities, and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but I am saying it’s not the same as funding the spread of the gospel. Many churches are also good at raising money for Christian organisations that provide disaster relief or other support to the poor, and that is good, because it is a way of demonstrating the gospel. It’s part of sharing the love of God in our deeds.

But in my experience of Methodist churches, raising money and practical support for the spread of the gospel in word is far rarer. In what ways can we get behind those whose call it is to urge people to come to faith in Christ? We seem to forget that unless we support evangelism, there will be no church. The church is always just one generation away from extinction.

There are many organisations we could support. Some specialise in bringing the gospel to students. I know someone who runs a network out of Southampton for women sharing the gospel with other women. Some groups specialise in rural areas, others in our cities, and so on.

And what about releasing some of our people for this work? Who are the folk in our congregations who talk naturally and easily about their faith in Jesus? Are these the individuals we should be encouraging and supporting to pursue a calling more specifically?

Imagine the joy this would bring to the wider church and to church leaders if we were explicit in our partnership in the gospel.

Secondly, why is Paul confident?

being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

I will be open with you: this is one of my favourite verses in the Bible. It’s why I entitled this sermon ‘Christians Under Construction.’ ‘He who began a good work in you will complete it.’ Replace the roadworks sign that says, ‘Danger, men at work’ with ‘Danger, God at work’!

Or to put it another way, this is a time of year when I, who do not watch much television, set the Sky box to record three consecutive Monday night shows on BBC2. Because Monday night becomes brainy quiz night. Only Connect, Mastermind, and University Challenge. I don’t care that I can only answer a few of the questions: I like being stretched.

And there in the middle is the famous catchphrase from Mastermind: ‘I’ve started, so I’ll finish.’ This, says Paul, is what God has promised the Philippian Christians. And this, says Paul, is the basis of his confidence. He has seen enough to be confident that God will see things through in their lives. He will complete the work of what John Wesley called ‘Christian Perfection.’

The Philippians are indeed Christians under construction. They are not the finished article. Paul is well aware of that. Again, later in the epistle we shall come across some of their failures and foibles. But Paul sees that bit by bit, God’s Holy Spirit is doing the work of transformation. Slowly, they are being remade in the image of Christ. Paul is confident God will see his project in them through to completion. This is an attractive feature of the Philippian church.

And yes, this work is all of God, but it takes a co-operation with the Holy Spirit for it to happen. This speaks well of the Philippian Christians. They are committed to seeing God’s transforming work happen in their lives.

We too will be an appealing community of God’s kingdom if the same is true of us. I am sure many of us can look back on our lives and tell stories about how God has done a makeover in our lives – something the late great Christian philosopher Dallas Willard called ‘The renovation of the heart.’ I’m sure if we take a moment to reflect we can each identify an example in our lives.

But here’s the thing: so often, such testimonies are accounts of what happened in the past. Do we also have a testimony in the present of God’s renewing work?

This means we cannot be complacent Christians. By all means let us rightly rejoice in what God has already done in our lives. But let us also be committed to hearing the still, small voice of the Spirit whispering to us about the next item on God’s agenda of change for us. And let us also encourage one another when we see signs of God being at work in our brothers and sisters.

Thirdly and finally, what are Paul’s aspirations?

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, 10 so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, 11 filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ – to the glory and praise of God.

I suppose you could say that Paul’s aspirations are, ‘I like what I’ve already seen in you Philippians, now I pray that God does more.’ It’s the kind of prayer that follows through on his joy that they partner in the gospel and his confidence that God hasn’t stopped working in their lives.

But here Paul gets a little more specific about how he would love to see God continue to work among these people. It goes roughly like this: if you love God more that means you will know God more, which means you will know God’s will better, and then you will want to do that will. That seems to be the sequence he envisages: love God more – know God better – know God’s will – do God’s will.

My guess is that the Philippians share Paul’s aspirations for them, even if they can’t articulate them like he does. They want a deeper love and knowledge of God, so that they may know and do his will. That is what they are living for. That is what Paul longs to see fulfilled in them.

But in the modern church when we meet some people like this, it scares us. We think they are freaks or extremists. The late A W Tozer once said something to the effect that if someone with a normal New Testament commitment to Christ walked into one of our churches, we would treat them as if their spiritual temperature were a fever, when the reality is that we are spiritually cold.

Now of course there are some Christians who are genuinely extreme or unbalanced, who have an unhealthy intensity. Such people make me feel uncomfortable, because something doesn’t seem quite right with them. They may be sincere, but I am not sure about how healthily they are expressing their faith.

But I can’t dismiss every Christian who makes me feel uncomfortable in the same way. Sometimes, if I am honest, there are others who leave me with an uneasy feeling because their love for Christ is so wholehearted that it shows me up as being trivial and half-hearted. I don’t like that, and it’s easier to besmirch their faith than ask myself awkward questions about the depth of my commitment to Christ.

What if we made it our aspiration for ourselves and one another that together by the grace of God we would pursue a wholesome wholeheartedness for Christ, and rely on the Holy Spirit to lead us?

Conclusion

No wonder Paul loves the Philippian church. They partner with him in the gospel. They know God is at work in their lives. They are passionate to see more of that. What an encouragement they must have been to him as he spent time in a jail in Rome.

Imperfect as we are, still under construction as we are – just like the Philippians – what can we learn from them that we too might be attractive witnesses for Christ?

Sabbatical, Day 61: Not Perfect, Just Forgiven – Or More?

I’m going to raise a theological issue in a moment. Please don’t go away. It doesn’t require (many) long words, and it’s about an important issue in Christian life and witness. It’s something I’ve had in the back of my mind for a year or two, but never thought a lot about. But it has come up again today while I’ve been reading Tim Keller‘s ‘The Reason for God‘, and it’s rather more important than the continued slow broadband speeds I’m trying to diagnose here. (Something like 200k speed instead of our usual 1.8 meg or so. I’m currently running a full virus check as part of PlusNet‘s faults procedure.)

So here’s the issue. What do we expect of Christian behaviour? Twenty years ago at theological college, I was in conversation with a tutor. I don’t remember the topic, but I must have expressed some disappointment about church life in a placement. He replied, “David, never forget that the church is a company of sinners.”

And I wanted to reply, “Yes, but …”. We are a company of sinners, but I don’t like that most cheddary of Christian slogans, ‘Christians aren’t perfect, just forgiven.’ It seems to be an excuse for all sorts of unacceptable conduct. (Says he who is the chief of sinners. But I don’t want to excuse myself, either. I’m too good at rationalisation.)

The difficulty surfaced again when I read Eugene Peterson‘s book ‘The Jesus Way‘ in 2007. Much of that book is routine wonderful Peterson, but I found one part awkward. In using the example of King David’s life, he rightly trumpets the extraordinary grace of God in bringing forgiveness after forgiveness. And again, I thought, “Yes, but?” The grace of God is truly astonishing. How he picks up people like me, dusts us down and sets us on the road again is staggering.  My ‘but’ was that I wanted to read something about transformation. If it was there, I missed it. 

And that is the one area where I have struggled with Keller. There are so many riches in ‘The Reason for God’. I loved the passage on page 57 where he said that the problem with Christian fanatics isn’t that they are too serious about the Gospel, it’s that they aren’t serious enough, because they act like Pharisees rather than those who know grace. I also appreciated the fact that he tackles so many of the popular objections to faith, including the one where people rightly say that the behaviour of Christians doesn’t always compare favourably to that of non-Christians. 

Now Keller rightly says that Christianity isn’t about moralism. It is – again – about grace. He also says the Christian faith has theological resources for understanding, if not expecting this dilemma. We can expect non-Christians to live outstanding lives, because (using the Calvinist term) he bestows ‘common grace’ on all. We all have the image of God in us, however damaged, is how I would put it. On the other hand, Christians are still sinners. So in believing the best about non-Christians and the worst about Christians (something we rarely do in the church), we need not be surprised if people who do not share our faith outshine us at times.

I am refreshed by the way he consistently goes back to grace. I think he is a shining example of not shooting down those he disagrees with in some crude culture war. Yet I think non-Christians have a point about expecting Christian conduct to be better, even without misunderstanding our message as one of moralism.

I have wondered whether Keller and Peterson’s Presbyterian traditions have anything to do with this. I’m thinking of the debates at the Reformation about justification. Essentially the Reformers separated justification and sanctification, whereas the Catholics conflated the two. Thus the Reformers, in emphasising their difference from Rome, stressed justification as being by the free grace of God through faith in Christ. Sanctification, in the sense of holy living, is also by grace through faith, but the Reformers wanted to separate it out as clearly as possible in order to deny any possible thought that good works merited salvation. So I would suggest it’s possible for someone in a strongly Reformed background to end up emphasising justification (in a Protestant sense) and underplaying sanctification. Might this explain Keller and Peterson?

The weakness I can immediately see in my argument is that the theological college tutor I mentioned was a Methodist. For Methodism has a subtly different tradition here, as I understand it. Wesley was with the Reformers in preaching that sinners were saved entirely by grace through faith in Christ and his atoning work on the Cross. But he moved onto sanctification much more quickly than the classical Reformers did. If you had faith, then (as in Galatians 6), that ‘faith worketh by love’: it was evident in a new lifestyle. The new lifestyle did not save you, but it was the evidence of having received salvation. It was gratitude for salvation, not the cause of it. It was a sign of the Spirit’s work of assurance, which was more than the objective promises of Scripture that the Reformers had stressed. With a theological heritage like that, then whatever one might think about Wesley’s controversial doctrine of Christian Perfection, you will not settle for ‘Christians aren’t perfect, just forgiven.’

So do the likes of Keller and Peterson allow us to be too easy on ourselves, or is that just the wonder of grace? Does Wesley lead us into moral self-flagellation, or is he simply calling out the cost of discipleship? And for those of you who might know Keller, Peterson, Presbyterianism in general or Wesley better than me, have I misread them at any key point? I would be very interested to read your comments, because – as I said in the opening paragraph – this is an important issue in Christian life and witness. For it is about the nature of salvation and a proper portrayal of Christianity to the world.

As Dr Frasier Crane used to say, “I’m listening.”

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