My plans aren’t your plans,
nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.
Just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways,
and my plans than your plans. (CEB)
On this day in 1738 John Wesley found his way to a gathering on Aldersgate street. Remembering it, he wrote this in his journal: “In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street….”
At Aldersgate, following a reading of Martin Luther’s preface to Romans, Wesley wrote that his heart was “strangely warmed.” He continued that he did, in that moment – from that moment on- trusted “in Christ, and Christ alone,” for his salvation.
And he went unwillingly.
The salvation for which Wesley trusted Christ from that day forward wasn’t just a warmed heart. He rarely referred again to that specific event or day or moment, but the life he went on to live changed the world.
Wesley organized small groups to disciple one another. The practices and disciplined life he had already been living, coupled with the warmed heart, brought many others into the fold of Christ. The small groups, the mutual accountability work done therein, would grow the members into people who followed Wesley’s example and followed Jesus.
Schools and hospitals were founded. Prisoners were ministered to. Some have gone so far as to allege that the Wesleyan revival helped England avoid the kind of bloody revolution France would face.
And Wesley went unwillingly.
In these days following #UMCGC, the 2016 General Conference of the United Methodist Church, we have a lot of unwillingness.
In response to much and loud and bitter dissension regarding, primarily, our church’s stance on LGBTQI matters, our bishops have called for a special commission to study the issue and present possible resolutions.
Many of us are not holding our breaths waiting for the conclusions reached by this commission. I, for one, am incredibly skeptical that resolution can be reached between the extremes within our denomination.
But then today I was struck by the word unwillingly.
My skepticism rests mostly on my presumption that many are resistant -no, beyond resistant – dead set against any compromise of their position.
But maybe, at least on this Aldersgate Day, that’s exactly the Wesleyan place to be.
May all we United Methodists approach our future as unwillingly as Wesley approached the meeting on Aldersgate Street.
Look what happened that time!
I know, #UMCGC has decided not to decide anything about sexuality for the remainder of this session. We’ll all be here whenever the special commission reports.
In the meantime, is it too late for a civil rights move? I don’t know why it just struck me today, but can we at least affirm the civil right to same sex marriage in the United States?
It doesn’t mean we have to perform said ceremonies. But we do, and have for more than 40 years, affirmed that all persons, regardless of orientation (or anything else) are “of sacred worth.”
One of you is probably pretty good at writing up such a resolution. Maybe we still have time.
Sermon #5 in our Branded Series. This sermon concludes the series.
“If I only had a brain….” That’s the earworm that Lee Swann stuck me with last Sunday. Thank you!
Maybe now you’ve got it playing over and over, too. If so, you’re welcome!
I remember growing up watching “The Wizard of Oz,” by Frank Baum, every year when it came on TV. I am young enough to be not really too impressed that some of it was done in color, but we all loved the story. Though, I admit, for several years I was scared of those flying monkeys!
Not long before I first saw the movie, in 1964, that Henry Littlefield unlocked the secrets of the story. It was a populist allegory, he claimed, and was written as a commentary on turn-of-the-century (19th to 20th century) monetary policy. The yellow brick road was the gold standard, Emerald City represented the fraudulent greenback, or us currency without the gold standard. The Strawman was the american farmer, the tin man industrial workers, and the cowardly lion William Jennings Bryan.
Littlefield explanation of the story has since been discounted, but that, of course, doesn’t mean there aren’t other versions.
Like the religious version: the yellow brick road is the “way to enlightenment.” The emerald city represents heaven, and each of the main characters a particular version of human temptation or frailty. The wicked witch of the west, being killed with water that represents baptism.
At least as plausible is the atheist allegorical explanation. There is no real wizard, just a human behind a curtain.
Some of you might like the feminist version. Frank Baum, the author, was son-in-law of a leading suffragist. All the characters who actually have any power in the movie are women.
You might have your own version of what the Wizard of Oz means. You might not – maybe you have never even seen the movie.
We are story-driven people, and our brains are meaning-making machines! If there isn’t a story, we’ll make one. Where there isn’t meaning, we will make it up and overlay it.
No one tells a story for no reason, do they? It might not be the most obvious reason, but there is a reason.
Today we remember the story of Pentecost. You might wonder why we haven’t read the story of Pentecost from the scriptures. You might not. The story is in Acts 2. I could tell you the reason I didn’t have it read is that I love our liturgists and didn’t want to make them read verses 9-11, which read:
Parthians, Medes, and Elamites; as well as residents of Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the regions of Libya bordering Cyrene; and visitors from Rome (both Jews and converts to Judaism), Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the mighty works of God in our own languages! (Acts 2:9-11)
So, here is the story. You can read the official version in Acts 2. In fact, please read it sometime today. Let me know what you think!
The disciples, having recently watched Jesus ascend into heaven, are meeting on the day of Pentecost, or the Feast of Weeks, a Feast Day on which God’s people gathered to celebrate the giving of the Law to Moses on Mt. Sinai. While waiting, the Holy Spirit shows up and fills them!
Filled with the Spirit, they step before the crowds and start speaking in tongues – languages – so that everyone, all those Parthians, Medes, and Elamites, etc., can understand them!
When you let the Holy Spirit speak through you, a lot less is lost in translation!
When we let the Holy Spirit speak, people will be able to hear us in their own language!
Having never heard anything like this, some of the crowds guessed the disciples were drunk – speaking out of their minds!
Peter stood up to preach. He preached; told them the story of Jesus in terms of some of the prophecies in the Hebrew Bible.
“God brought about three thousand people into the community on that day.”
This is the final message of our Branded series. The premise is that Jesus is, or would be, branded. Branding, you recall, is not just a logo or a jingle, but an image or video or song that connects people (customers) with a story.
On that first day of Pentecost, the telling of God’s story brought 3,000 into the community of faith.
What will you do with this story?
For four weeks we have summarized God’s story. For four weeks we have talked about being made in God’s image – that we ALL bear the brand of God and God’s story, and that God’s story is one of hope and forgiveness and healing and reconciliation. Thus branded, we are, with God, in the business of making disciples; followers of Jesus. To make disciples, we have to be disciples. Last week we talked about getting to know what other people, people who don’t know Jesus and aren’t followers of Jesus, value. I claimed last Sunday, and still firmly believe, that when we practice the patience of listening to other people’s stories, we will learn what they value. By listening to others, we will also earn the right to be heard when we tell God’s story and how it has impacted us; changed us.
So, today, the finale.
Has God’s story changed us?
We are, you see, the product we have to offer.
As Christians, we ought to be inviting others to follow Jesus. To do so with integrity means we have to be following Jesus. We have to be able to say, with the Apostle Paul, “watch what I do, follow my example, follow Jesus the way I follow Jesus.”
Otherwise we are just making up a meaning to someone else’s story.
Pentecost is a grand point in the story where we learn, as Peter says, how to make God’s story our own story. After his sermon, the people ask, “What should we do? Peter answered:
“Change your hearts and lives. Each of you must be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. Then you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. This promise is for you, your children, and for all who are far away—as many as the Lord our God invites.”
This IS the meaning to God’s story! And the promise is “for you, your children, and for all who are far away – as many as the Lord God invites”
Our lives, lived as evidence, with evidence, of the Holy Spirit’s work in us IS the product we have to offer!
Flannery O’Connor wrote many beautiful stories. Most of them are haunting, too. One of my favorites, one that haunts me, is “The River.”
In this story, Mrs. Connin comes to pick up young Harry from his parents, as his babysitter for the day. Harry’s mom is sick – we learn a little later she is hungover. Mrs. Connin is a committed Christian woman and is excited to take Harry down to the river, where an evangelist named Bevel is healing and preaching. Mrs. Connin hadn’t known Harry’s name, and asks him what it is, after telling him about this preacher. “Bevel,” Harry tells her.
He wants to please this Christian woman. He wants to find a place in her story.
At the river, she identifies him to the Preacher has having not been baptized. So Harry, or Bevel, is baptized. It sounds good, too; the life that the preacher describes following baptism is far different from the drab, bleak, miserable life that is Harry’s, or Bevel’s, up to this point in the story.
Alas, he comes up out of the water the same. He is taken home, and sent off to bed, life is the same.
The story ends the next morning, Harry, or Bevel, having taken himself back to the river, and determined to hold himself under the water until he finds that wonderful life the preacher was talking about.
I read “The River” for the first time about 25 years ago. I cried as I finished it. Then I got up and went into my first child, Robbie’s room, where she lay napping. I cried quietly, and prayed. I hope and prayed that she would know God’s story in a way that gave her hope, not in a way that left her so disillusioned that she would drown herself looking for some great, good, place I had promised.
The Christian Hope you and I have to offer is the hope that others can see in our lives. If it is a hope we tell them about, we had better be willing to live it, too!
This morning’s scripture readings – both shorter than the Acts passage, and both noticeably absent of difficult-to-pronounce Bible names, remind us of the goodness of God’s story, and of the promise of OUR place in it, and our role in sharing it with others.
All who are led by God’s Spirit are God’s sons and daughters. You didn’t receive a spirit of slavery to lead you back again into fear, but you received a Spirit that shows you are adopted as his children. With this Spirit, we cry, “Abba, Father.” The same Spirit agrees with our spirit, that we are God’s children. But if we are children, we are also heirs. We are God’s heirs and fellow heirs with Christ, if we really suffer with him so that we can also be glorified with him. (Romans 8:14-17)
Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father; that will be enough for us.”
Jesus replied, “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been with you all this time? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Don’t you believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words I have spoken to you I don’t speak on my own. The Father who dwells in me does his works. Trust me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or at least believe on account of the works themselves. I assure you that whoever believes in me will do the works that I do. They will do even greater works than these because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask for in my name, so that the Father can be glorified in the Son. When you ask me for anything in my name, I will do it.
“If you love me, you will keep my commandments. I will ask the Father, and he will send another Companion, who will be with you forever. This Companion is the Spirit of Truth, whom the world can’t receive because it neither sees him nor recognizes him. You know him, because he lives with you and will be with you.” (John 14:8-17, 25-27)
We are baptizing one young woman and welcoming her, another young woman and two young men into membership in the Church this morning. Not just “our” church, but THE Church. The church that represents Jesus Christ. The Church in which the Holy Spirit lives and is active.
The Church where God’s story is lived out and lived into.
The Church where our lives are changed as we actually follow Jesus day by day.
Will you join me in committing to these young people that we WILL “surround them with a community of love and forgiveness ”? Will you pray for them, “that they may be true disciples who walk in the way that leads to faith”?
And you know, don’t you, that really the way THEY will be true disciples is as the see and experience US being true disciples.
We are the product. Our lives, moved and changed by the Holy Spirit are what we have to offer!
Do you expect to be made perfect in love in this life?
For at least the last 25 years, I have answered this question, “Yes, by the grace of God.”
The other seven members of my ordination class in the Texas Annual Conference in 1991 answered the same. As far as I know, every ordained United Methodist has answered the same way.
I was pretty sure that the eight of us didn’t have exactly the same understanding of what this question meant. No one asked. No explanation, no dissertation was required
I can tell you that I full on loved that question! Fresh out of Asbury Seminary, I was deeply committed to living into Christian Perfection. Wesley’s teaching on perfection played an essential role in my choice of seminary.
When I was 27 I fully expected, by the grace of God, to be made perfect in love in this life.
Today, at 52 I still fully expect, by the grace of God, to be made perfect in love in this life.
My understanding of what it means, and towards what, particularly, I am moving, has changed. If it hadn’t, I would have serious reservations about my fitness for effective ministry.
I haven’t talked to anyone from my ordination class in at least 20 years. This is partly because I have changed conferences; I am now a clergy member of the Central Texas Conference.
Occasionally I wonder what the 27 year old Steve Heyduck would think of the 52 year old version. There would be some serious disagreements. And yet, we are together. I wouldn’t be the me I am today had I not been him then.
I wouldn’t be committed today to being made perfect in love in this life were it not for my original commitment then. With 25+ years on this path, then, I have to think I’m closer now than I was then. If I didn’t believe this, I would owe it to the Church to surrender my credentials and find another vocation.