September 22, 2019 - Download a Worship Bulletin Above Jeremiah 8:18-9:1
My joy is gone, grief is upon me, my heart is sick. Hark, the cry of my poor people from far and wide in the land: “Is the LORD not in Zion?” “Is her King not in her?” (“Why have they provoked me to anger with their images, with their foreign idols?”) “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.” For the hurt of my poor people, I am hurt. I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then has the wealth of my poor people not been restored? O that my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, So that I might weep day and night for the slain of my poor people. Over the past four weeks, we’ve been exploring the heritage and tradition of the Methodist movement. From an early age, I fell in love with the United Methodist Church, and it’s one of the reasons I’m bringing this sermon series to life - so that we may all understand the draw we have to the Methodist movement and the ways we can see the church changing before our very eyes. In the first week of the series, we learned about John Wesley’s understanding of the tenants of the Christian life and how they might be lived out. During our second week, we engaged with the Wesleyan theology of grace, of this ambient love that surrounds us in all facets of life. Last week, we explored the ways in which the Methodist movement has engaged with the world, particularly when it comes to our social principles and how we live out our faith. This week is our last in this series, and we will dive into the current events of the United Methodist Church, and what it means for us at George Whitefield United Methodist Church. Above all, my hope for this series is to ignite the love we have for the Methodist tradition, and remember the roots that hold us fast to Christ. But let me start at the beginning. Over the nearly two hundred and fifty years that the Methodist movement has been in existence, the Methodist movement has split over twenty times, going in many different directions. We have relatives in the Anglican tradition, our cousins are the Free Methodists, we have grandparents who are part of the United Christian Church, and our siblings are the Salvation Army. To simplify our story, I’ll highlight a couple of major changes in our denomination. From its inception in 1784, the United Methodist Church finds its roots in a denomination called the Methodist Episcopal Church, and through a series of conflicts surrounding slavery, we eventually split into two major groups, one denomination retaining the name of Methodist Episcopal Church, and the other adding the word “South” to its name in 1844. We would eventually come back together in 1939 to form the Methodist Church, but would see major change once again in 1968 when the Methodist Church merged with the Evangelical United Brethren Church, forming our current denomination, the United Methodist Church. That means that our denomination is only fifty-one years old. We may have been called a Methodist Church in the past, but George Whitefield has only been a United Methodist Church for half a century. Since 1784, the Methodist movement provided ways for members from all around the connection to get together to discern the growth of the church and new methods of ministry. Every four years, General Conferences would be called to ensure that both lay and clergy members of the Church would be able to voice their opinions and propose legislation for the life of the Church. This tradition has not changed; we continue to meet every four years, but in very special cases, we meet more frequently. In 2015, I was elected to be a delegate for the New England region of the UMC to attend and participate in the 2016 General Conference. This global gathering had many items on the table for discussion, but one that continued to come up was the inclusion of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer folks in the life of the Church. In a final stitch effort to meet the needs of the Church, the Council of Bishops called for a special conference in 2019 based solely on the topic of human sexuality. In 2016, the Council of Bishops formed the Commission on the Way Forward - a group of folks from all understandings of theology, from all regions of the world. They helped to develop three different plans, and a fourth plan was added by a caucus group within the UMC. For the 2019 special conference, there were four plans on the table for the future of the United Methodist Church. One of the plans, The Simple Plan, offered a way for the church to be fully inclusive by removing all discriminatory language from the Book of Discipline. Another course of action was the One Church Plan, which allowed churches and regions to make local decisions based on the context of their ministry needs and removed the need for church trials. The Connectional Plan was an additional option, which also allowed for local decision, but it included massive restructuring that would have essentially removed regional boundaries; churches would have instead been grouped by theological understanding. And lastly, the Traditional Plan would tighten LGBTQ restrictions and enhance punishments for those who did not follow Book of Discipline policies surrounding human sexuality. The One Church Plan, which allowed for local decision surrounding human sexuality, was highly supported both by the Commission on the Way Forward and the Council of Bishops, and there was a lot of effort in developing this plan. But when it came to a vote in February, it failed, but we knew we weren’t defeated: we still had an opportunity to submit a minority report the following day. But unfortunately, even after the presentation, we were not able to get the One Church Plan to pass, and we moved onto the other plans. All others failed but the Traditional Plan. When the final vote went through, when the Traditional Plan passed, by a thin margin of twenty-six votes of over eight hundred delegates, my heart dropped. It wasn’t just that the plan I supported had failed. Instead, I witnessed the literal tearing apart of our church. The massive arena where we were meeting was split into two, one group resisting in protest, the other singing and clapping. But most folks like me just stood in shock and watched the church we loved so much crumble around us. This wasn’t about winners or losers; this was the Body of Christ, broken so deeply and so completely, that we didn’t know what to do with our grief. My joy is gone, grief is upon me, my heart is sick. Hark, the cry of my poor people from far and wide in the land: “Is the LORD not in Zion?” “Is her King not in her?” (“Why have they provoked me to anger with their images, with their foreign idols?”) “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.” For the hurt of my poor people, I am hurt. I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then has the wealth of my poor people not been restored? O that my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, So that I might weep day and night for the slain of my poor people. For days and months after the conference, I wondered if there was no balm in Gilead. I wondered if there was a Physician that could revive this Body of Christ. And then I realized that maybe, just maybe, the Body must die in order for resurrection to take place. You see, we are in the midst of Good Friday. We are on the cusp of Holy Saturday. And Easter is on the horizon. We are experiencing the death of an organization, an institution, but the Holy Spirit is still very much alive. We will rise. We just may not recognize it now. I see parallels of the church’s story in another story. It reminds me of the narrative of Mary, weeping by the tomb, utterly heartbroken and overwhelmed with grief. This wasn’t supposed to happen. How could this have gone so wrong? The angels that tended to her asked why she was crying: she had assumed that Jesus’ body had been stolen, moved, taken from her, and she didn’t even have a physical body to mourn over, to remember her beloved, to bury. But as she turned around, she saw a man she didn’t recognize, and it wasn’t until he called her by name that she realized who it was: it was Jesus. She ran toward him to embrace him, but Jesus held up his scarred hands and told her to not hold onto him, for he had not yet ascended to the Father. You see, as a denomination, we are at the tomb, weeping for those who have been caught in the crossfire, those whom we have harmed, and we weep for the institution of the United Methodist Church as it, in some ways, is dead. And yet, if we read the signs, if we see the angels in our midst, we will begin to see signs of new life, even if we don’t recognize it at first. You see, death is always followed by resurrection, even if we don’t see it. That’s the way creation was designed: life from death. Static, dead, dry seeds in the cold ground will eventually sprout new shoots, stems, leaves, flowers, and fruit. It’s only when Jesus calls us by name that we will rise, that we may finally recognize the newness in our midst. And as we run toward this new creation, we must remember that it’s not the church to which we cling, not the physical body of Christ, not the buildings or the finances or the programming, but we cling to God, who clings to us, who is closer than our very skin. Church institutions may fail, but God remains. The state of the United Methodist Church may come as a surprise to some of you; but I want to assure you that God’s got us. We’ve got God. And the Holy Spirit is already moving here in New England. In June, our region commissioned a group called the Open Spirit Task Force to study the impacts of if and/or how New England could leave the United Methodist Church to form our own denomination. As a member of this Task Force, I’m witnessing new life pouring forth, and there is hope on the horizon. Not only are we seeing renewal and revival in New England, but across the US and world. What happened in February sparked a catalyst of new ideas and greater creativity with the Holy Spirit, and I’m excited and ready to see what is to come. So what does this mean for us, here at George Whitefield UMC? Over the next few years, it’s likely that we’ll be in discernment over our identity and how we will be related to the New England region and the United Methodist Church. We can choose to be as involved or uninvolved as we’d like. We can choose to pursue full inclusion of LGBTQ folks in the life of the church, or we can choose to take a backseat until we know how the next few years will shake out. As your pastor, I will keep you updated on the continuing evolution of the Methodist movement and how it may pertain to our church. Rest assured that, though I hope and pray for the full inclusion of our LGBTQ siblings in the life of the Methodist movement, I will not push any particular solution or agenda because this is your church. As your pastor, I am here to walk with you in the decisions that you make, in the ways in which you discern the way forward. We have many possibilities before us, and it’s my hope we will see signs of new life as we embrace God’s will for us in the future of our ministry here in West Brookfield and beyond. This morning during Coffee Hour, I invite you all to join in a Listening Session: I want to hear from you, and I want us to hear from one another - how are you feeling about this? What are your hopes, your fears, your thoughts for finding a way forward? When we voice our hearts, when we share our lives with one another, when we invite the Divine into our conversations, when we hear Jesus call our name, it is then that we recognize the new life that is always already in our midst. - Pastor Christy
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September 15, 2019 - Download a Worship Bulletin Above Luke 15:1-10
Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." So Jesus told them this parable: "Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.' Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance." "Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.'" "Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of angels of God over one sinner who repents." For the month of September, we’ve been exploring the heritage and tradition of the Methodist movement. From an early age, I fell in love with the United Methodist Church, and it’s one of the reasons I’m bringing this sermon series to life. Over the past few weeks, we’ve learned about how John Wesley’s “heart-strangely-warmed” moment awoke in him an understanding of the tenants of the Christian life: do no harm; do good; and stay in love with God. Last week, we engaged with the Wesleyan theology of grace, of this ambient love that surrounds us in all facets of life. Today we’ll explore the ways in which the Methodist movement has engaged with the world, particularly when it comes to our social principles and how we live out our faith. And finally next week, we will dive into the current events of the United Methodist Church, and what it means for us at George Whitefield United Methodist Church. Above all, my hope for the coming weeks is to ignite the love we have for the Methodist tradition, and remember the roots that hold us fast to Christ. In this morning’s scripture reading, we’re told of a moment when Jesus was interrogated by the most religious folks in his society, and it’s certainly not the first time this has happened. The religious people question him about why he’s spending time with those people, the tax collectors and sinners - and the thing is, the company Jesus keeps is actually the company that Jesus “seeks out,” - prosdechomai in the Greek. Jesus actively goes out searching for the most un-religious folks in his society, and he invites them to dinner, he hangs out with them, he loves them as they are. One commentarian put it this way: “Jesus challenges the hearers to consider what it means to be community and what boundaries, if any, community has” (68, Feasting on the Word). And when Jesus is questioned by the religious leaders, in classic Jesus fashion, rather than answering forthright, he provides two parables instead. Jesus first tells us about a sheep that has wandered from the fold, from the community in which they were brought up, from the family who has known them and loved them, from the shepherd who has cared for them. Jesus says that the shepherd left the flock of ninety-nine to find the one who was lost, and when the one was found, there was much rejoicing, and the community was brought back together again. Jesus then tells us about a woman who lost a silver coin in her house, and so she lit a lamp, swept the house, got down on her hands and knees and examined every nook and cranny of that house until she found the coin. When she found it, she was so excited that she invited all of her friends and neighbors together to celebrate. Here’s the thing about metaphors: they’re not perfect. And knowing what we know about God’s omnipresent nature, from Psalm 139 that we read last week, we know that God will never leave us or forsake us, that God is closer than our very skin. We know that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ. Nothing. So we know that the Shepherd never leaves us, even if God seeks out the one of the ninety-nine. Jesus used the metaphor of the shepherd because he was speaking to particular people in a particular time who understood what it meant to be a shepherd, as well as the risks of leaving the ninety-nine to find one lost sheep. Most people would say, “it’s just one sheep, it’s not worth leaving the ninety-nine to find it. Maybe it will wander back.” But what we know of God, and what we know of Jesus’ ministry with the outcasts of society tells us something different. God values all people, and we are all precious in God’s sight. If even one person has left the community, either by wandering or by being ostracized, God will seek that person out to the ends of the earth and bring them back into the fold. One commentarian explains it this way: “The good news is that we are sought, and more, we have always already been found” (70, Feasting on the Word). What’s really at stake here is Jesus’ reputation. Jesus made a name in his society, but not in the best of ways. With every step, he was being watched and judged, and the company he kept, the company he sought out, caused his reputation to slide into what would eventually drive people toward his death. But more than that, Jesus’ reputation spread as the Healing One, the Freeing One, the Forgiving One, the Sustaining One, the Sacrificial One, the Resurrected One. As Christians, we must ask ourselves, “What is our reputation?” From the inception of the Methodist movement, John Wesley sought out all the tax collectors and sinners of his day. He visited the sick, advocated for those experiencing poverty, counseled those in prison. In many ways, John Wesley practiced a social gospel: where God led, there he went, regardless of his reputation and status in society. The Methodist movement had its hands in some of the most historic social gospel moments: from abolition to children’s and adult labor laws. The reputation of the early Methodist movement is bound up in being radical Christians for the sake of those whose voices have been silenced. The Social Gospel Movement of the early 1900s can be summed up in the words of the great theologian Walter Rauschenbusch: “The kingdom of God is not a matter of getting individuals to heaven, but of transforming the life on earth into the harmony of heaven.” Driven by this vision, the Methodists of the time were active in the labor movement, in women’s suffrage & rights, in the redistribution of wealth, in God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven, in seeking to create disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. This is the mission statement of the United Methodist Church, even today: To create disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. Even today, the United Methodist Church has social principles on food justice, on tobacco and alcohol use, on environmental concerns, and on human sexuality, to name just a few of the seventy-six different categories in which the UMC takes an official stance. And we live out these social principles through specific and life-changing ministries: through World Missions and UMCOR (the United Methodist Committee on Relief), through MFSA (the Methodist Federation for Social Action), through the support of the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights and the ownership of the UN Church Center, through the Imagine No Malaria Campaign, through countless drives and initiatives - the United Methodist Church has a reputation to that of Jesus. Next week, we will discuss the current events of the UM organization, including our historic 2019 Special Called General Conference session held in February of this past year. This session was focused solely on human sexuality, an issue that the UMC has been seeking discernment over since 1972, in particular, how those who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer fit into the life of the church. I attended the Conference in February as a member of the New England Delegation, and for portions of my time there, I was on the floor of the Conference, voting and working with others in our region and beyond, toward a solution, seeking a way forward. As it stands, the United Methodist Church does not allow those who identify as “self-avowed practicing homosexuals” to become pastors or to be married in our churches, and in fact, calls the “practice of homosexuality incompatible with Christian teaching.” Our conference in February further tightened these restrictions of LGBTQ siblings by requiring a mandatory penalty for clergy of one year’s suspension without pay or loss of credentials for anyone charged as being LGBTQ or anyone who officiates a same-sex wedding. Regardless of where anyone who attended the Conference stood on these issues, for many, the outcome of this Conference was heartbreaking and painful. And for many congregations and larger regions of the UMC, this issue has driven a wedge between our beloved family members. It seems like we’re at an impasse, but I can assure you, there is hope. There is movement. The Holy Spirit will not be stifled. Just as Christ seeks us out, where we are, no matter how far we’ve wandered, may Christ seek out His Church and bring us into His flock of loving care. We are all precious in God’s sight, and my hope and prayer is that we recognize just how deep and wide and long and unwavering this great Love is. The Kingdom of Heaven is like a welcome table, not only where people come to the table, but we, followers of Christ, seek out the tax collectors and sinners - we become a strange, misfit family of all saints and sinners. - Pastor Christy Wright
September 8, 2019 - Download a Worship Bulletin Above Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18 O LORD, You have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; You discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O LORD, You know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay Your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; It is so high that I cannot attain it. For it was You who formed my inward parts; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are Your works; that I know very well. My frame was not hidden from You when I was being made in secret, Intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In Your book were written all the days that were formed for me, When none of them as yet existed. How weighty to me are Your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them - they are more than the sand; I come to the end - I am still with You. This month, we’ll be sharing together over a sermon series on the heritage and tradition of the Methodist movement. From an early age, I fell in love with the United Methodist Church, and it’s one of the reasons I’m bringing this sermon series to life. Last week, we learned about how John Wesley’s “heart-strangely-warmed” moment awoke in him an understanding of the tenants of the Christian life: do no harm; do good; and stay in love with God. Today we’ll be discussing the theology that grew out of John Wesley’s experiences as well as his deep understanding of grace. Next week, we’ll explore the ways in which the Methodist movement has engaged with the world, particularly when it comes to our social principles and how we live out our faith. Finally, we will dive into the current events of the United Methodist Church, and what it means for us at George Whitefield United Methodist Church. Above all, my hope for the coming weeks is to ignite the love we have for the Methodist tradition, and remember the roots that hold us fast to Christ.
Last week, I spent some time with one of my best friends in Upstate New York. We went to seminary together, and we share a similar love for all things unique and unexpected. So, of course, being the adventurers that we are, we decided to jump in the car and drive over an hour into the middle of nowhere to … go spelunking! For those not familiar with the term, spelunking is cave diving, exploring caverns and underground rivers. It was something that I was always compelled by, but had never done before. And I’m so glad I did. It was a wondrous thing to behold. As we dropped 150 feet under the surface of the earth, it grew colder and more humid, and a sort of eerie feeling crept over me. As the goosebumps rose on my arms, I stepped out into the unknown and gasped. It was beautiful. There were stalagmites growing from the hard rock beneath us, and the stalactites dripped down from the cavernous ceiling. This image is of an underground lake, where my friend and I took a boat ride through its shallow waters. It was surreal. Today’s scripture reading reminds us of all the things that happen just under the surface, of how deep God’s love is for us. The Psalm tells us of God’s incredible grace, grace that is both so cosmic and unknowable and grace that is beyond personal - it is intimate in ways we’ll never understand. We are told of God’s transcendence, of forming us in the caverns of the earth, and we are told of God’s immanence, of knowing when we rise and when we lay down, of knowing the words on our lips before we ever speak them. Here’s the coolest part, as described by Ellen T. Armour in a commentary she wrote in reflection of Psalm 139: “The psalm witnesses to the fact that experiencing divine love, care, and mystery compels us to attempt the impossible - to speak to God. So we do.” (Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 4, 34) This is a wondrous thing to behold. This psalm tells us that we were formed in the depths of the earth, in the midst of all of these amazing tunnels and gorgeous rock formations. These are the places where precious stones are found, where crystals grow, where amethyst, quartz, ruby, and opal can be discovered and polished. But the psalmist also says that we are fearfully and wonderfully made; what does it mean to be fearfully made in this context? I’ll let you in on a little secret: while completely slack-jawed in awe of what I was seeing in these caves last week, I was also a little on edge. These caves are so huge, so unexplored, so unknowable, that I had a nagging worry: What happens if there’s an earthquake while we’re down here? But I didn’t allow the fear to keep me from enjoying myself while we explored what I’m now recognizing as sacred ground. The echos of our footsteps, the sounds of our voices bouncing off the damp walls, the light reflecting off the water droplets and crystals. It was, above all, sacred ground. In reflection of our scripture this morning, Jon L. Berquist states that “the reality is even more daunting; we cannot know how big God is. We have neither words nor concepts for such size. This knowledge, even though we can never attain it, is so big and so high, so weighty, that it threatens to crush us.” (Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 4, 35) And yet, God’s love is never meant to overwhelm in a destructive way; God’s love is all constructive. It is a wondrous thing to behold. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, felt a similar wonder when attempting to untangle the nature of God’s grace. One of the facets of the Methodist movement that I love so much is our understanding of grace. Wesley understood grace to be of three characters: prevenient, justifying, sanctifying. Prevenient grace is defined as the movement of the Holy Spirit before we are even aware of God’s presence in our lives. This form of grace most often can be seen after the fact: God was here, and I did not know it. We experience the second type of grace, justifying grace, when we decide to follow Christ, to emulate all Jesus’ ways, to invite God into our lives, to become disciples of Jesus Christ. And lastly, sanctifying grace is the process through which we become more like Christ, when we witness transformation in our own lives and in the lives of others. For me, prevenient grace is the most compelling nature because it is truly for all people. It is the movement of the Holy Spirit before we are conscious of it, which means that it’s not just for Christians. It’s not just experienced by those who love Jesus. It’s something that is infused into creation, and John Wesley himself understood prevenient grace to be the universal love of God for all people. Just like the caves in the ground underneath us, I believe this prevenient grace has its roots in the earth, in caverns unknown but always present in its beautiful, mysterious, and awe-inspiring ways. For me, in order to wrap my head around such a lofty concept, I like to understand prevenient grace to be something I call ambient love, love that floats over and through and within all of creation, love that is left over from the inception of creation, love that remains hanging in the air from the moment when God breathed life into Adam and made Eve from Adam’s own body. This love infuses itself into each and every moment, from when God created the animals and trees, and when God carved out the caverns and underground rivers. This ambient love is deeper than those caves and more expansive than the skies. This prevenient grace is wider than the ocean and closer than our very skin. God knows us more than we could ever know ourselves, and God goes before us and hems us in from behind. God knew us when we were woven together in the depths of the earth. It is a wondrous thing to behold. I believe that this sort of love is what John Wesley understood to be grace, grace for all people no matter their circumstances or where their life had taken them. This universal love is only possible through Christ, who was, is, and is to come, and from whom’s love we can never be separated. What a wondrous thing to behold. O Lord, You have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; You discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, And are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, You know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, And lay Your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; It is so high that I cannot attain it. For it was You who formed my inward parts; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are Your works; That I know very well. My frame was not hidden from You, When I was being made in secret, Intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In Your book were written All the days that were formed for me, When none of them as yet existed. How weighty to me are Your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! I try to count them - they are more than the sand; I come to the end - I am still with You. It is a wondrous thing to behold. My hope and prayer is this: May we recognize this ambient love glowing throughout all of creation. May we see love we’ve never known manifest itself in our everyday lives, and may we witness the transformation that only comes through God’s amazing grace. - Pastor Christy
September 1, 2019 - Download a Worship Bulletin Above Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16 Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured. Let marriage be held in honor by all; and let the marriage bed be kept undefiled; for God will judge fornicators and adulterers. Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be content with what you have; for God has said, "I will never leave you or forsake you." So we can say with confidence, "The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can anyone do to me?" Remember your leaders, those who spoke the word of God to you; consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Through him, then, let us continually offer a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that confess his name. Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing a sermon series on the heritage and tradition of the United Methodist Church. There are plenty of reasons for doing this, but I think the most profound reason for me personally, is that I fell in love with the United Methodist Church and the legacy of which we have the opportunity to be a part. In our first week of this series, we'll be exploring the history of the Methodist movement, starting with the Methodist movement’s founder, John Wesley, and his life experiences as he grew to know and love God. Next week, we'll be discussing the theology that grew out of John Wesley's understanding of the God he loved so much. Then we will move into the ways in which the church has engaged with the world, particularly when it comes to our social principles. Finally, we will dive into the current events of the United Methodist Church, and what it means for us at George Whitefield United Methodist Church. Above all, my hope for the coming weeks is to witness us igniting the love we have for the Methodist tradition, and remember the roots that hold us fast to Christ.
Throughout this sermon series, I’ll be sharing some background on why I find our Methodist heritage so compelling and why I’m drawn to our tradition. I had been raised in a Presbyterian household when I was just a small child. When my family moved up to Connecticut from Virginia, we started going to a Congregational Church. And finally, when I started Middle School, we landed at Gales Ferry United Methodist Church, where my parents still attend and are involved in various ministries. What really drew me in was not only the youth group, but also the opportunities for small group gatherings. I tend to be somewhat of an introvert, but small groups of five to ten people are where I find my best moments. Whether it’s a group gathered over dinner, or meeting together with a few friends to read scripture, these community-building opportunities warm my heart. The small-group mentality is not a new idea; it’s scriptural, as we find in the book of Acts, and John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, also recognized the significance of small group gatherings and what the community could offer. The earliest Methodist movements were organized in classes, camps, and societies - basically small groups that read the Bible together, prayed with each other, ate dinner together, and helped to raise one anothers’ children. It was really a community effort in Christian living; they had all things in common, and it was an idyllic vision of the Kingdom of God. John Wesley himself participated in many of these small groups, and it was on one fateful night when he attended a society meeting on Aldersgate Street in Britain in May 1738 when he had a life-changing experience. John Wesley had prided himself in reading the scriptures, being academically trained, and having great knowledge of God. But as the group read from Romans, John Wesley remembers in his journal that “while [the group leader] was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed,” and he recognized that it was in Christ alone where he found life. This mysterious, beautiful, awe-inspiring, and unexplainable moment felt incredibly complex to John Wesley, and even the following morning, he still awoke with questions. What happened? Why was my heart strangely warmed? But through discernment and a surrender to the mystery, John Wesley was eventually able to distill his understanding of the Christian life down to three simple rules: do no harm; do good; and stay in love with God. These rules, which solidified for John Wesley the following year in 1739, still reside within our denomination’s Book of Discipline, which is a guide for how the church might be run. This book covers everything from the United Methodist Church’s stance on gambling to how many people should be on the Staff-Parish Relations Committee. And yet, with it’s thousands of pages of legislation, ideally, the United Methodist Church should ultimately be moved by these three simple rules: Do no harm. Do good. Stay in love with God. These guiding principles are fleshed out in our scripture reading this morning: we read that we are called to do no harm, to let mutual love continue. Keep meeting in small groups, keep building community, keep caring for one another in ways that transform our relationships and the communities around us. We are reminded that marriage is a sacred bond between two people, and that our fidelity and loyalty to one another extends to our community. The scripture warns us that the love of money could lead to a discontented life, always chasing after more. Do no harm. And we are called to welcome the stranger, to do good, to not turn away from those in need. To visit those who are in prison and those who are sick, and to imitate those great faith role models in our lives. Do good. And finally, we are called to stay in love with God, to share words of praise, to rejoice in love for all, to remember that God will never forsake us or leave us, to remember and witness that we will always have everything we need. Stay in love with God. So my question is this: what warms your heart? What reminds you of Christ’s love for you? How are you being called to ministry with all people? My hope and prayer is that as we remember our Methodist tradition, may we feel our hearts strangely warmed in the light of recognizing how truly simple it is. Do no harm. Do good. And stay in love with God. - Pastor Christy Wright |
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