Wesley had just returned to Britain after a disastrous experience in Savannah, Georgia. On the voyage over the ship Wesley and his companions were in nearly sank. In the midst of that storm, the English voyagers were fearing for their lives, while a group of German Moravians were not only calm, but worshiping through the storm.  This made Wesley question his own faith. Upon arrival he met with the leader of the Moravians in Savannah and had this exchange:

I soon found what spirit he was of and asked his advice with regard to my own conduct. He said, “My brother, I must first ask you one or two questions. Have you the witness within yourself? Does the Spirit of God bear witness with your spirit that you are a child of God?” I was surprised, and knew not what to answer. He observed it and asked, “Do you know Jesus Christ?” I paused and said, “I know He is the Saviour of the world.”  “True,” replied he; “but do you know He has saved you?” I answered, “I hope He has died to save me.” He only added, “Do you know yourself?” I said, “I do.” But I fear they were vain words.

Not only was Wesley experiencing an existential crisis, he was also having lady problems with it. On the voyage over he met one Sophia Hopkey, and made plans to marry. After arriving in Georgia, however, Wesley had a change of heart, thinking it best for an Anglican priest not to marry so he could devote himself wholly to the work of the Church. Sophia met someone else and married him. Wesley didn’t take this well. He denied Sophia from partaking in Communion. The congregation was incensed. Charges were brought before Wesley, claiming defamation of character. Though Wesley escaped imprisonment, the damage was done. He went back to England, dejected.

In the midst of his depression and dejection, Wesley met one Peter Bohler, a Moravian in England. As Wesley was undertaking preaching, he came to a crossroads–how could he continue preaching in such a low spiritual state:

I asked Bohler whether he thought I should leave it off or not. He answered, “By no means.” I asked, “But what can I preach?” He said, “Preach faith till you have it; and then, because you have it, you will preach faith.”

Still, Wesley was in a stupor. A failed ministry, woman problems, depression can do that to a man. Still unsure, Wesley asked Bohler again: Do I continue on in ministry? Bohler replied, “No; do not hide in the earth the talent God hath given you.”

A few weeks later, on May 24, 1738, Wesley makes the following entries in his Journal:

I think it was about five this morning that I opened my Testament on those words, “There are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, even that ye should be partakers of the divine nature” [II Peter 1:4]. Just as I went out, I opened it again on those words, “Thou art not far from the kingdom of God” [Mark 12:34]. In the afternoon I was asked to go to St. Paul’s. The anthem was, “Out of the deep have I called unto Thee, O Lord: Lord, hear my voice. Oh, let Thine ears consider well the voice of my complaint. If Thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss, O Lord, who may abide it? For there is mercy with Thee; therefore shalt Thou be feared. O Israel, trust in the Lord: for with the Lord there is mercy, and with Him is plenteous redemption. And He shall redeem Israel from all his sins.”

It was like God was preparing Wesley for a great seismic event in his heart. A huge upheaval of everything of he had ever known. Wesley writes further and describes this event:

In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther’s preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, while he 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, 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.

I began to pray with all my might for those who had in a more especial manner despitefully used me and persecuted me. I then testified openly to all there what I now first felt in my heart. But it was not long before the enemy suggested, “This cannot be faith; for where is thy joy?” Then was I taught that peace and victory over sin are essential to faith in the Captain of our salvation; but that, as to the transports of joy that usually attend the beginning of it, especially in those who have mourned deeply, God sometimes giveth, sometimes withholdeth, them according to the counsels of His own will.

After my return home, I was much buffeted with temptations, but I cried out, and they fled away. They returned again and again. I as often lifted up my eyes, and He “sent me help from his holy place.” And herein I found the difference between this and my former state chiefly consisted. I was striving, yea, fighting with all my might under the law, as well as under grace. But then I was sometimes, if not often, conquered; now, I was always conqueror.

On this, the Day of Pentecost, the day when the Holy Spirit descended on the disciples and empowered them to preach the Good News of Jesus Christ, may we all feel the Spirit’s fire kindle in our hearts. May He come and “strangely warm” our stony hearts and vivify them with Fire from on high. May He take the shipwrecks of our lives–dashed hopes, broken dreams, disappointments, failures, depression–and use them as fuel for the Spirit to do His work in our lives. May we realize heartbreak and disillusionment are never the last word, but is in fact the very place God does His work in our lives. May we, with one voice, join with the Church and say, “Come Holy Spirit, come!”

Salvation Oracles [On reading Isaiah 43:1-5]

There is a long list of threats around us:
terror,
cancer,
falling markets,
killing,
others unlike us in all their variety,
loneliness,
shame,
death -
the list goes on and we know it well.

And in the midst of threat of every kind,
you appear among us in your full power,
in your deep fidelity,
in your amazing compassion.
You speak among us the one word that could matter:
“Do not fear.”

And we, in our several fearfulnesses, are jarred by your utterance.
On a good day, we know that your sovereign word is true.
So give us good days by your rule,
free enough to rejoice,
open enough to change,
trusting enough to move out of new obedience,
grace enough to be forgiven and then to forgive.

We live by your word. Speak it to us through the night,
that we may have many good days through your gift.

From Prayers for a Privileged People

For the Christians are distinguished from other men neither by country, nor language, nor the customs which they observe. For they neither inhabit cities of their own, nor employ a peculiar form of speech, nor lead a life which is marked out by any singularity. The course of conduct which they follow has not been devised by any speculation or deliberation of inquisitive men; nor do they, like some, proclaim themselves the advocates of any merely human doctrines. But, inhabiting Greek as well as barbarian cities, according as the lot of each of them has determined, and following the customs of the natives in respect to clothing, food, and the rest of their ordinary conduct, they display to us their wonderful and confessedly striking method of life. They dwell in their own countries, but simply as sojourners. As citizens, they share in all things with others, and yet endure all things as if foreigners. Every foreign land is to them as their native country, and every land of their birth as a land of strangers. They marry, as do all [others]; they beget children; but they do not destroy their offspring. They have a common table, but not a common bed. They are in the flesh, but they do not live after the flesh. They pass their days on earth, but they are citizens of heaven. They obey the prescribed laws, and at the same time surpass the laws by their lives. They love all men, and are persecuted by all. They are unknown and condemned; they are put to death, and restored to life. They are poor, yet make many rich; they are in lack of all things, and yet abound in all; they are dishonoured, and yet in their very dishonour are glorified. They are evil spoken of, and yet are justified; they are reviled, and bless; they are insulted, and repay the insult with honour; they do good, yet are punished as evil-doers. When punished, they rejoice as if quickened into life; they are assailed by the Jews as foreigners, and are persecuted by the Greeks; yet those who hate them are unable to assign any reason for their hatred.

Almighty God, the fountain of all wisdom, you know our
necessities before we ask and our ignorance in asking: Have
compassion on our weakness, and mercifully give us those
things which for our unworthiness we dare not, and for our
blindness we cannot ask; through the worthiness of your Son
Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the
Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.

Amen.

Spring Cleaning

There’s a stairway

Going to the upper floor

Where the costumes are stored

In musty old closets

They are only taken out a few times a year

Worn by certain people

At certain times

For certain occassions

Sometimes people hide things in the upper floor

Things not seen by others

Some things so cherished they must not  be seen

Other things so hideous they must not be exposed

Sometimes I like to explore the upper floor

To find precious heirlooms

Long forgotten by others

But not by me

I don’t like finding the ugly things

Objects so grotesque they must be hidden under decades of detritus

Articles long forgotten by others

But not by me

We have to take the beautiful with the ugly

In order to appreciate this strange drama

With strange characters, wild costumes

Clever plot, bizarre sets

Beautiful and ugly, strange bedfellows indeed

When we go exploring our upper rooms

We find things strange and wonderful

Things that disturb and make us cringe

When we explore the musty closets

We have to decide what to keep

Choose what to discard

And what to share with others

It’s joy to share the cherished things

Things we hold dear

Things that give us joy

That give warm, fuzzy feelings all over

It’s torture to speak the ugly things

Things we want to destroy

Things that hurt us

That give cold, stabbing feelings all over

Sometimes, we find things that are beautiful and ugly

Meshing together, you can’t tell one from the other

We hold onto them, but it kicks you in the groin

You want to love it, but it hates you instead

You want to throw it away

But it gives you that puppy dog look

You can’t hurt it

You can’t trash it

But that strange beast claws at you

Hurts you where you hurt the most

Makes you feel all sorts of oogy

Like you want to puke on your shoes

We have to make a choice between

Love and contempt

Pain and pleasure

Fantasy and reality

When it’s time for spring cleaning

We throw away broken things

That have no more purpose

Why cling onto them like life itself?

I have a stairway

Leading to an upper floor

Where things are stored

In mothbally old closets

Spring sprung weeks ago

Why are there things still up there

That give my life pain

And utter despair?

It’s time to search out prized heirlooms

To throw out the clutter

To make room for more treasures

Of cherished things to enjoy

April 17, 1991

]]> http://martygould.wordpress.com/2009/05/16/spring-cleaning/feed/ 1 martygould http://martygould.wordpress.com/2009/03/01/barth-the-end-is-the-beginning/ http://martygould.wordpress.com/2009/03/01/barth-the-end-is-the-beginning/#comments Sun, 01 Mar 2009 16:35:51 +0000 martygould http://martygould.wordpress.com/2009/03/01/barth-the-end-is-the-beginning/ ]]> The man of this world has no solid ground upon which he can stand; there is accessible to us no blessed redemption existing in some corner of our unredeemedness; there is no warm sunset glow which succeeds the storm of our lives–save by the orientation which is given to men by God Himself and by God alone. This orientation is the End which announces the Beginning, is the eternal disturbance and the eternal peace, is the command which banishes us from every quiet or unquiet nook and compels us to faith, because our veritable redemption can only be believed in. Such is the peace of God which passeth all understanding.

Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans

John Howard Yoder, The Politics of Jesus: Vicit Agnus Noster, 96.

Almighty God, whose blessed Son was led by the Spirit to be
tempted by Satan; Come quickly to help us who are assaulted
by many temptations; and, as you know the weaknesses of
each of us, let each one find you mighty to save; through
Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with
you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

We are the locked door, the stone not rolled away,

you invite us to cross through waters, walk dry roads

look towards transformation, in every wilderness.

You believe we can.

We want other gods, other commodities–

depth without the daily searching.

You offer us a simple table

and the words, follow me.

You believe we will.

We choose a meager vision,

hold tight to the catch of our nets.

You tell us a story that asks, which one was the neighbor?

You believe we understand.

We are perplexed

when you appear in our untended gardens.

You say, peace,

to all our uncertainty.

You show that new life

comes with time, with practice,

and the sowing, however small,

of stubborn hope. You believe we will grow.

Why burn poor and lonely under a bowl.
Under a lampshade or on the shelf
Beside the bed where at night
You lay turning like a door on it’s hinges?
(First on your left side, then on your right side, then your left side again)
Why burn poor and lonely?
Tell all the stones, we’re gonna make a building.
We’ll cut into shape & set into place or you’d rather be a window,
I’ll gladly be the frame reflecting any kind of words.
We’ll let in all the blame
(And ruin our reputation all the same)
Never mind out plan making,
We’ll start living……anyway,
Aren’t you unbearably sad?
Then why burn so poor and lonely?

We’ll be like torches
we’ll be like torches
We’ll be torches together! torches together
well be like torches
we’ll be like torches
With whatever respect, our tattered Dignity demands
Torches together, hand in hand

Why pluck one string – What good is just one note?
Oh, one string sounds fine i guess….We were once ‘One Note’,
We were lonely wheat quietly ground into grain
(What light and momentary pain!)
So why this safe distance, this curious look?
Why tear out single pages when you can throw away the book?
Why pluck one string when you can strum the guitar?
Strum the guitar!
strum the guitar!
strum the guitar!
With no beginning, with no end
Take down a guitar and strum the guitar
strum the the guitar if you’re afraid,
And I’m afraid and everyone’s afraid
And everyone knows it but we don’t have to be afraid anymore

You played the flute but no one was dancing
You sang a sad song but no one was crying(x4)
you played such a sad song….such a sad song