John Meunier

… and the United Methodist News Service does not take notice of his mistakes. [NOTE: The UMNS has updated the page with the story and removed most of the quote that I copied from the original version of the story.]

The UMNS has a story about a youth gathering in Las Vegas. At the gathering author Tony Jones gave the keynote, where he critiqued “big institutions” and pointed to John Wesley as an example of a leader who broke the rules.

Here is what he is quoted as saying:

“Wesley rode around on a horse, ordaining people as he went. He didn’t insist they attend seminary,” Jones said. “He was kicked out of Anglicanism because he broke the rules, yet I think he’d struggle with the modern institutionalism of his own movement.”

Okay, well, Wesley did ride a horse, but the rest is not true. He did not ordain people willy-nilly “as he went.” He did retain in British Methodism a strict line between the ordained and the lay preachers. Even when he set up superintendents in the former colonies, he did not toss out expectations for clergy education and training. And he was never kicked out of the Church of England.

I suppose it is not so bad that Jones gets Wesley wrong, but I do worry that he was teaching United Methodist youth the history of their own movement. And it is a concern that the story appearing right now on the UMC homepage makes no effort to correct the obvious errors Jones made.

Dan Dick has another excellent post on the communication challenges and failures of the United Methodist Church. I’ve been thinking about communication recently, so his post caught my eye.

Ever since I left the pulpit, I’ve been trying to figure out how my lifelong interest in communication and words might be of service to the church. I’m not a very systematic thinker, so I’m still in search of a clear picture. But I can certainly offer some thoughts on this blog in the meantime.

Here’s a rule I try to remember: What you hear matters more than what I say.

This is a huge challenge for the church because we deal in so many words and ideas that people don’t use in day-to-day life. Even church people have a hard time with many of words – justification, salvation, grace, sin, predestination, atonement, sacrament, and inspiration, just to name a few.

As a result, people hear us talk but have no idea what we are trying to say.

I’ve read Will Willimon – channeling Karl Barth and maybe Stanley Hauerwas – argue that church is about teaching people new words and a new language and new ways to understand their own experience. I buy that in part, but it also seems like a good way to let ourselves off the hook for not making much sense to most people.

For me, the United Methodist mission statement is a brilliant, and sad, example.

The mission of the Church is to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.

Someone explain in plain terms what a “disciple” is. How do I know if I am one? How do I know if you are? Is being a disciple different from going to church? Is it different from being a Christian? What about a Christ follower?

The other black hole in that mission statement is “transformation of the world.” Get 100 United Methodists in a room and ask them what that means. How many different answers do you think we’d get? If we can’t agree, how can we possibly communicate – through words or actions – this identity to the world?

This is not to say a church should never use special vocabulary. Some words may be necessary even if they are not common place. But we should at least be able to explain what our own words mean.

I suspect one reason we cling to fuzzy words and resist the idea of clearing up our meanings is that it allows us to all speak to each other without having to agree. I can say I want to make disciples. You can say you want to make disciples. We can mean radically different things by this, but because we use the same word we can maintain the fiction that we are on the same team and pursuing the same goals.

Lots of people in the denomination are chasing after plans and programs and structural voodoo to revive the church. Maybe it is because I’m a word guy, but I think we’d be better served to work on our words. Let’s figure out which words matter to us and what they mean. Then let us figure out how to live by those words.

Michael Cartwright and Andrew Kinsey at the Wesleyan ConneXion Project in the Indiana Conference have put together a great guide to re-engaging the General Rules of the United Methodist Church. You can download a copy here.

The booklet includes an introduction to the rules, a 28-day set of reflections on the rules, and prayer resources. It would be an excellent centerpiece for a small group or discipleship class.

Is there a distinct Wesleyan way of putting together a church?

A friend gave me a pamphlet with a of a transcript from a lecture by William Abraham at the University of Indianapolis last year. In the lecture, Abraham argues on behalf of a Wesleyan ecclesiology.

Abraham argues that there are two primary models for church – Catholic and Magisterial Protestant. Neither of these, he says, is a good option for United Methodism. (It is worth noting, perhaps, that John Wesley’s Anglican Church is famously devoted to be a middle way between these two options.)

Abraham says that United Methodism should stop trying to be one or both of these options and instead embrace what it represents, a third way of being a church.

That ecclesial identity is “thoroughly Trinitarian in orientation but … looks to the Third Article, to the Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of Life, as the originating, sustaining, directing, and authenticating source of true Christianity. … As a third option, we honor both Catholicism and Magisterial Protestantism, but we ultimately stand with monasticism, mysticism, pietism, revivalism, and the saner forms of Pentecostalism as the bearers of the deepest life of the Church, the life of God himself in the soul of humankind, fully incarnate in Jesus Christ the Son, and fully present now through the inimitable working of the good and life-giving Holy Spirit.”

Abraham argues that United Methodism – and other Wesleyan strains of Christianity – need to stop letting themselves be judged by the ecclesiology of the Catholic and Magisterial Protestant churches.

I’m not much of a ecclesiastical scholar, so I find Abraham’s idea intriguing but am not well placed to analyze or critique it. I’d be interested in the thoughts of others.

I’ve been trying to translate the latest missive from the Call to Action movement into plain language. Here is the description of the purpose of the Interim Operations Team.

The IOT’s assignment is to be a catalyst for implementing significant change in denominational structures, policies, practices, and leadership in ways that are aligned with God’s call, the church’s mission, and the needs of the world in the 21^st century. The IOT was created to build on recommendations from the Call to Action steering team in order to influence, guide, and challenge leaders and groups across The United Methodist Church.

First, if this is the “interim” operations team, what comes next? There seems to be a never ending succession of teams, committees, and processes. Is there a master plan somewhere that explains the entire vision and process?

Second, what is the purpose of this group?

be a catalyst for implementing significant change in denominational structures, policies, practices, and leadership in ways that are aligned with God’s call, the church’s mission, and the needs of the world in the 21^st century

Now, my next question is genuine. I do not mean to sound flippant or sarcastic.

What does this mean? As a United Methodist layman, what can I expect this group to actually do?

My job is teaching communication to business majors. I see this kind of corporate-babble all the time. And it almost is always used to sound impressive but say nothing. The dead give away is the lack of specificity in every key term.

How about some good, old-fashioned Wesleyan plain talk.

What if the bishops and the Connectional Table just came out and said, “Look, we’ve been bleeding for 40 years. We are top heavy. We have too much money tied up in general agencies and boards. We need to make some big changes. So, we are getting together some corporate executives to give us some advice about the best way to deal with this crisis.”

That’s part one. Part two says, “We’ve been bleeding for 40 years. We no longer have enough pulpits for our pastors. And, frankly, we’ve got some pretty bad pastors out there that we’ve left on because it is easier than using the rules in our Book of Discipline to get rid of them. If we don’t figure out how to get more young people, we’re going to be dead in 50 years. So, we’re going to do two things. First, we’re going to strengthen the hand of bishops to control annual conferences and pastors. Second, we’re going to duplicate the successful strategies of our largest churches at every UMC.”

Don’t those two statements cover basically every idea in the Call to Action report?

Why not just say it?

We know this story. John Wesley went against his will to a meeting on Aldersgate Street one night. As he sat, someone was reading from Martin Luther’s preface to Romans.

The reader read these words:

15. ‘Faith’ is not the human notion and dream which some regard as faith. When they see that it is not followed by an improvement of life nor by good works, while they are, nevertheless, able to hear and talk much of faith, they fall into the error of saying: Faith is not sufficient; we must do works if we want to become godly and be saved. The reason is because, when hearing the Gospel, they go to work and by their own power frame up a thought in their heart which says: I believe. That they regard as genuine faith. But, inasmuch as it is a human figment and thought of which the inmost heart is not sensible, it accomplishes nothing and is not accompanied by any improvement.

16. On the contrary, faith is a divine work in us, which transforms us, gives us a new birth out of God, John 1:13, slays the old Adam, makes us altogether different men in heart, affections, mind, and all powers, and brings with it the Holy Spirit. Oh, it is a living, energetic, active, mighty thing, this faith. It cannot but do good unceasingly. There is no question asked whether good works are to be done, but before the question is asked the works have been done, and there is a continuous doing of them. But any person not doing such works is without faith. He is groping in the dark, looking for faith and good works, and knows neither what faith is nor what good works are, although he indulges in a lot of twaddle and flummery concerning faith and good works.

17. Faith is a living, daring confidence in the grace of God, of such assurance that it would risk a thousand deaths. This confidence and knowledge of divine grace makes a person happy, bold, and full of gladness in his relation to God and all creatures. The Holy Ghost is doing this in the believer. Hence it is that a person, without constraint, becomes willing and enthusiastic to do good to everybody, to serve everybody, to suffer all manner of afflictions, from love of God and to the praise of Him who has extended such grace to him. Accordingly, it is impossible to separate works from faith, just as impossible as it is to separate the power to burn and shine from fire. Accordingly, beware of your own false thoughts and of idle talkers, who pretend great wisdom for discerning faith and good works and yet are the greatest fools. Pray God that He may create faith in you; otherwise you will be without faith for ever and aye, no matter what you may plan and do.

While these words were being read, something happened to John Wesley that he recorded in his journal.

About a quarter before nine, while the leader was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.

For Wesley, Aldersgate was the sudden release of a great tension. He had for many years struggled mightily with two strong convictions. He believed that a righteous and just God would judge the holy and the unholy. He also believed that he was not worthy, that he had not attained holiness despite his intense efforts. The two beliefs twisted the cords of Wesley’s soul until the tension was painful.

The release from that tension changed Wesley. To have faith – for the first time to have real faith – was something he could not produce by his own discipline and determination. It was a work of God. For the first time, perhaps, he felt that despite his unworthiness, he was forgiven. The fires of hell were put out.

It was the kind of faith that Charles Wesley wrote about in the long version of the poem we know as O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing.

I think we 21st century Christians struggle to experience the joy of Wesley’s journal entry or Charles’ poem because we do not know the tension and the terror that they felt. We do not fear God – we do not even imagine a God who should be feared – and so we find incomprehensible the joy of the evangelical faith Luther described and the Wesley’s experienced. And where the joy is absent, the power is as well.

We reduce faith, in Luther’s words, to a figment that does not know the inner reaches of the human heart. We go around doing our good works and mouthing our “I believe” under the frustrated assumption that these are faith. We often end up both dejected and quite sanctimonious.

We look to ourselves to solve a problem that we do not understand.

The secret of Aldersgate is that we cannot gin up the faith we need, but we must be aware that we need it. We cannot change our own hearts, but we must know our hearts are in need of changing. We cannot save ourselves from sin and hell, but we must know that we are dearly in need of saving.

The final words, go to brother Martin:

Pray God that He may create faith in you; otherwise you will be without faith for ever and aye, no matter what you may plan and do.

Kevin Watson has just completed a four-part series of posts from a class leader at a United Methodist Church that has been trying to bring some traditional Wesleyan practices into the 21st century.

The series includes interesting details about how the classes work and what impact they have had on the spiritual life of those involved. It is interesting reading for anyone interested in Wesleyan discipleship.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

From Mainline or Methodist? by Scott Kisker:

I do not find the current “vision” for the United Methodist Church to be an improvement on our given vision of reforming “the continent by spreading Scriptural holiness over these lands.” Committing to our historic vision has the potential to bring actual change, abandoning the standards of success (size, wealth, popularity, power) by which we have been measuring ourselves for generations. The language of “scriptural holiness” will also change the categories of our disagreements. It clarifies whose version of a transformed world we are aiming at.

What I like about Kisker’s book is that I feel a real engagement with the impulse that gave rise to Methodism as I read it. It is not hero worship. It is rather a shared appreciation with Wesley for the plain faith of holiness of heart and life.

What troubles me about Kisker’s book is the same thing that troubles me when I read Wesley. To really stand where Wesley stood and do as he did, I do not see how the United Methodist Church could survive such a revival.

To preach holiness, sanctification, justification by faith, and new birth would empty our sanctuaries even more quickly than the grim reaper has been doing for 50 years.

To treat the General Rules like an actual rule of life would melt the phone lines between the homes of the congregation and the bishop’s office.

To act as if the gospel is not something we have to slip into people’s bags while they are not looking – so they take it home along with the stuff they actually came for – would offend.

I do not know how the institutional church could possibly take as its mission the original mission of the Methodist movement. Spreading scriptural holiness is much too demanding, and it is too easy to tell when we fail.

“Making disciples for the transformation of the world” is so vague that even august bodies like the Call to Action steering committee can’t tell us what it means in plain terms. We can do just about anything and claim to be working toward our mission.

I know most of my fellow United Methodists are not interested in being Methodist as Kisker describes it. For huge numbers the word has no meaning and the tradition that used to bear its name is unknown.

I don’t want something more than they do. “More” is not the right word. I want something real. I want to be part of the movement that started in a fishing village in Galilee and was rekindled in a coal field in England. I want the assurance of the Holy Spirit. I want the power of grace working in me to restore the image of God and the mind that was in Christ. I want to be one of the people called Methodist.

Those Roman Catholics take their religion seriously. (At least some of them do.)

Two stories caught my eye.

The first is about a seminary professor who wrote on his blog that New York governor Andrew Cuomo should be barred from taking Holy Communion because he is shacking up with his girlfriend. So far, the bishop of Albany is ignoring this suggestion, but the seminary professor appears to have supporters.

Imagine if a professor at Duke wrote something similar about a United Methodist politician living in sin. Can you even imagine that happening?

The second story was about a Roman Catholic priest who was stripped of his sacramental authority after he celebrated the Mass with a Presbyterian minister. The priest wrote a contrite message to his parish in which he admitted his grave mistake and submitted to whatever correction the bishop saw fit to impose.

Again, can you imagine this happening with a United Methodist?

Could you imagine a United Methodist congregation writing angry letters to the bishop because the elder at their church mishandled the sacraments?

In my trek through the Bible from cover to cover I’ve made it to Ezekiel. I have to admit it is the first time I’ve read the whole book. It was going along just about like any of the other prophets until I got to about chapter 18.

That is when I started noticing all these words and phrases that  brought to mind New Testament texts.

There is the warning to Jerusalem that the lowly will be exalted and the exalted will be brought low. In the midst of a prophecy of doom this was not a hopeful or joyful statement about God raising up the “least of these.” It was part of a prophecy of terror.

I wonder how Jesus’ disciples heard his words. Did they recall Ezekiel’s words?

Or the words about Israel being burned in the fire like dross and silver. Don’t the epistles say the same thing, but again, we tend to put a positive spin on it?

Then there is chapter 18 with its reversal of the Torah and proverbs. Where those books told Israel that the sins of the father would be visited on their sons and grandsons, Ezekiel tells us that God will not hold sons responsible for the sins of their fathers. Does this call into questions St. Augustine and Original Sin? What about Paul’s words about all having sinned in Adam?

Reading the Bible is endlessly interesting and challenging because of questions just like these. No simple, cookie-cutter, formulaic answers stand up well to reading the Bible. It insists on throwing sand into the gears of every finely tuned doctrinal machine that we would try to feed the Bible into.