Edwards: Breaking the darkness

Jonathan Edward’s account of the revival that broke out in Northampton, Mass., in the 1730s is an interesting and careful account of the variety of ways that the Holy Spirit worked conversions in his community. He is a great antidote for anyone who argues that there is only one way for a person to be converted to God. That is not the book’s only virtue by far, but it is one that struck me while reading it recently.

Here is one passage that I particularly liked in which he described the way saving grace breaks through the darkness.

In some, converting light is like a glorious brightness suddenly shining upon a person, and all around him: they are in a remarkable manner brought out of darkness into marvelous light. In many others it has been like the dawning of the day, when at first but a little light appears, and it may be presently hid with a cloud; and then it appears again, and shines a little brighter, and gradually increases, with intervening darkness, till at length it breaks forth more clearly from behind the clouds.

Faith first, then fruit

John Wesley’s sermon “The Witness of of the Spirit (II)” explains the sequence of changes  in his spirit as a result of his encounter with Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.

The Spirit itself bore witness to my spirit that I was a child of God, gave me an evidence hereof, and I immediately cried, “Abba, Father!” And this I did, (and so did you,) before I reflected on, or was conscious of, any fruit of the Spirit. It was from this testimony received, that love, joy, peace, and the whole fruit of the Spirit flowed.

Fruit comes after faith.

 

Do Methodists talk about this?

John Wesley’s sermon “The Witness of the Spirit” is a head-scratcher.

In it, he is trying to chart a middle course between two extremes. On one hand are those who mistake their own ideas and reveries for the Holy Spirit speaking to them. On the other are those — in part in reaction to the first group — who deny the Holy Spirit speaks to us at all. Wesley says his purpose in the sermon is to teach us how to avoid the mistakes of the first group without rejecting the gift of God like the second group.

My problem with this sermon is not that I cannot follow Wesley’s point. I have read him enough that I often forget that his manner of writing is not always easy for 21st century readers to follow. No, my problem with the sermon is that I do not feel the heat at the core of it.

The entire sermon reads as if Wesley is drawing careful distinctions and is aware of risks and dangers of a rash argument. He navigates shoals and reefs that I do not see, but by watching his movements know are there.

But in our day in the United Methodist Church I cannot find the these dangerous waters. I am not aware of any argument within United Methodism or between the UMC and some other branch of the Christian faith that sounds like the issue that so concerned Wesley in this sermon.

Perhaps this is a sign that our church has wrecked on the reef that Wesley calls the natural mind. We no longer argue about what it means to say the Spirit witnesses to our spirit because we have become the very people Wesley was trying to guard against. We have given up the gift of God that he was contending for.

Here is what he said the Spirit tells us:

The testimony of the Spirit is an inward impression on the soul, whereby the Spirit of God directly witnesses to my spirit, that I am a child of God; that Jesus Christ hath loved me, and given himself for me; and that all my sins are blotted out, and I, even I, am reconciled to God.

Wesley argued that we cannot love God until the Spirit impresses this upon our spirit. This is, in fact, the very foundation of faith and holiness. And it is a work of the Holy Spirit, not some assertion on our part or decision for Christ that we make. Rather, it is a gift of the Holy Spirit.

I cannot recall hearing such things being discussed by United Methodists. Have you?

Reading Isaiah 55:1-9, part 2

A reading for the third Sunday in Lent: Isaiah 55:1-9

Isaiah 55:6-7 has to be one of the key texts for evangelical preaching.

Seek the LORD while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let them return to the LORD, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

John Wesley’s journals and sermons echo with that phrase “Seek the Lord while he may be found.” Justification, he preached and taught, is the pardon of God. This was a go-to text for Wesley.

Here is what I have found in preaching, though. Most of the people who come to hear preaching do not experience themselves as lost. They do not have a sense of God’s distance. They do not feel themselves to be in need of mercy. They frequently have needs and wants to place before God, but are not anxious about God’s pardon.

Is this where reading the gospel reading (Luke 13:1-9) offers a map? There is a post for tomorrow.

Law trumps moralism

Fellow Hoosier United Methodist Adam Roe wrote an extensive and interesting comment on a recent post that featured John Piper and Tim Keller — two noted Calvinists — talking about sanctification.

The whole comment is here and worth reading. Here is part that I thought really hit home.

Our problem is that we do not allow the weight of Wesley’s theology to work itself out in our churches, so we create moralities that we perceive to be more easily accomplished and acceptable to our neighbors. Everyone likes a neighbor who participates in flood relief. Few people “like” a pastor who preaches strongly on the corruption of the human heart and the futility of good works as a means of self-justification. If we would just let our theology of the law play out, though, we would realize we don’t need moralisms because the law is a great equalizer. It accuses all of us all the time, and bids us to turn our attentions back to our sole hope and salvation…Jesus. When we are thusly humbled and rightly oriented, we are then prepared to truly serve our neighbors for Christ.

God pardons sinners

I heard the preacher on the radio the other day talking about Jesus. He said that because of the cross God the Father no longer sees us when he looks at us. He said that when the Father looks on us, he sees Jesus. He said it was like we put on a brilliant white robe to cover up and hide our dirty real selves.

John Wesley had no love for such preaching.

In his standard sermon “Justification by Faith,” Wesley sets out his position quite directly:

Least of all does justification imply, that God is deceived in those whom he justifies; that he thinks them to be what, in fact, they are not; that he accounts them to be otherwise than they are. It does by no means imply, that God judges concerning us contrary to the real nature of things; that he esteems us better than we really are, or believes us righteous when we are unrighteous. Surely no. The judgment of the all-wise God is always according to truth. Neither can it ever consist with his unerring wisdom, to think that I am innocent, to judge that I am righteous or holy, because another is so. He can no more, in this manner, confound me with Christ, than with David or Abraham.

In the Wesleyan account — which is to say the biblical account according to Wesley — justification is when God pardons us despite our sin. God is not confused about our merits or tricked by a slight of hand worked out by the Son. But still there is pardon and forgiveness.

This is an important distinction in Wesleyan theology for a couple of reasons.

First, it keeps a clear separation between justification and sanctification. Our pardon does not make us holy and it does not require us to be holy before we can be justified. Far from it. We are justified while sinners. Indeed, Wesley argues that until we know ourselves to be sinners we cannot have the faith that leads to justification because that faith is the belief that Christ died for my sins and forgives me, even me.

Second, justification as pardon means we must not rest passively on the cross. One of Wesley’s great concerns was that so many Christians did not live as Christians. They relied on the promises that Christ had done it all for them and that his righteousness had been imputed to them. And so with their ticket to heaven stamped, they felt no need to continue to work out their salvation and to grow in grace.

In a later sermon, in which Wesley was at pains to make peace with Calvinists who thought he did not use the phrase “imputed righteousness” enough, Wesley explained his reluctance to use the term.

In the meantime what we are afraid of is this: — lest any should use the phrase, “The righteousness of Christ,” or, “The righteousness of Christ is imputed to me,” as a cover for his unrighteousness. We have known this done a thousand times. A man has been reproved, suppose for drunkenness: “O”, said he, “I pretend to no righteousness of my own; Christ is my righteousness.” Another has been told, that “the extortioner, the unjust, shall not inherit the kingdom of God:” He replies, with all assurance, “I am unjust in myself, but I have a spotless righteousness in Christ.” And thus, though a man be as far from the practice as from the tempers of a Christian; though he neither has the mind which was in Christ, nor in any respect walks as he walked; yet he has armour of proof against all conviction, in what he calls the “righteousness of Christ.”

It is hard to deny that this temptation is any less among us today than it was in Wesley’s day. Many who wear the name of Christ hide behind that name tag, as it were. Pointing to the cross, they feel no strong need to live as Christ lived. Their preacher has set their soul at ease on such matters. In this, our experience confirms what Wesley worked so hard to counter.

And so we who are called United Methodists and have affirmed the doctrinal standards listed in our Book of Discipline are called to affirm with Wesley this biblical doctrine. While we are yet sinners we are forgiven, but we are forgiven not so we can remain sinners but become — by the grace of God — saints.

‘Was she then ever convinced of sin?’

In his journal entry for January 9, 1786, John Wesley records with something he learned while reading the autobiography of William Penn.

I was must surprised at what he relates concerning his first wife; who lived, I suppose, fifty years, and said a little before her death, “I bless God, I never did anything wrong in my life!” Was she then ever convinced of sin? And if not, could she be saved on any other footing than a Heathen?

It is an interesting passage for a couple of reasons.

First, the last line suggests that “heathens” can be saved. He opens the door to as much in other places in his writings where he writes that he has no charge to wonder about whether God saves those who live in the parts of the world where Christ is unknown. God will attend to them.

The second interesting thing about this brief entry for me is Wesley’s concern that this woman never could have been convinced of her own sin if she would say she never did anything wrong. For Wesley, it was impossible to be saved by faith in Christ without first experiencing the deep conviction of sin. It was so much on his mind, that he took note of it in reading a fairly nondescript sentence in a book and took time to record it in his journal.

Not too long ago, I wrote a United Methodist theologian and asked his opinion about the importance of the doctrine of justification. I told him that I get a lot of messages — both subtle and direct — that say we should not put much emphasis on that doctrine. His reply was brief, but to the point: Preach justification by grace.

A couple years ago, I asked whether United Methodism was a conversion-minded denomination. I guess that question is still with me. It appears to me that to the degree we are Wesleyan, we should still be preaching about conviction and justification, even if we find different words for them.