A Wesleyan Finds Nice Things to Say About Calvin

I am an affirmed Wesleyan and will always defend Wesley's view of grace against Calvinism. One day, maybe I'll blog about what's wrong with Calvinism, but I won't be able to say anything original.

 However...

 I had the opportunity to go to Geneva a few months ago and found myself inspired by Calvin in several ways. Geneva continues to be an international city where people who speak many languages live and work together. Calvin created an environment in which people who were persecuted for their faith in their home countries found a home and a community that transcended their national identities. I saw a beautiful bas relief in French that said, "Geneva, city of refuge." That's a beautiful heritage.

 But the thing that's inspiring me now is Calvin's approach to his ministry as a pastor. The center of his ministry was being with the people while teaching and preaching the Bible. Calvin had extensive lectures on the Bible three days a week during the week every other week. His commentaries can be easily accessed online. I learned recently that he didn't produce these commentaries--students took notes on his lectures and wrote them up later. Calvin did everything pastors do--administration, meetings, pastoral care, leadership development, worship planning, etc. But everything sprung from being with the people and helping them to encounter the God of scripture through the scriptures.

 I don't want to sound like a fundamentalist here. I'm certainly no fan of bibliolatry. But I do believe that more and more pastors are letting their interest in all kinds of things squeeze out their central calling. So much of the "leadership" literature uses the resources of the business world to more effectively build religious institutions. It's helpful to use those resources. But if we aren't about our central task, what's the point? Programming is great, being relational is great, cool music and cool graphic art is great, building buildings can be helpful. But these things are supposed to serve the task of developing disciples who discover God's presence through God's book.

 So, I'm thinking it's really important for pastors to be proclaimers and teachers of the Word first, and to let everything else spring from there. John Calvin's a good inspirational figure on that score. I think that's going to inform the kind of pastor I want to be.

Farewell Sermon to Montgomery FUMC: The Kingdom Grows

My farewell sermon to Montgomery First UMC. I wept again while I was editing it to post here. The Kingdom Grows A sermon delivered by Dr. Nathan W. Attwood To First United Methodist Church, Montgomery, AL June 17, 2012 He also said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.” He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.” With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples. Mark 4:26-34 I was grateful to find that the lectionary text for this morning was a parable. I’m pleased to have the opportunity to talk about parables as I share with you all for the last time as your pastor. Some of you may remember that the first time I preached from this pulpit the lectionary text was also a parable, perhaps providentially also a parable about seeds and planting—The Parable of the Sower. I shared with you then as I share now that we often misunderstand how parables are to be read. We often read them as short stories with a moral, like Aesop’s Fables. But parables are not fables and they are not intended to provide simplistic moral advice. The parables of Jesus are intended to serve as glimpses into something that only people with a special kind of vision can see. Jesus said that unless you are “born again/born from above” you cannot SEE the Kingdom of heaven. We have often taken those words to mean that if we do not accept Jesus into our hearts we cannot go to heaven when we die, but the context of Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus in John chapter 3 makes clear that that’s not at all what Jesus meant to say. He meant tell us that it takes a remaking on the inside in order to be able to see the working of God in the earth. The heart and soul of Jesus’ preaching was, “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.” What did he mean by “The Kingdom of God”? He certainly did not mean heaven, as in a place our souls go after we die. It would make no sense to say, “The place of the afterlife is at hand.” The tricky thing is that Jesus talked about the Kingdom of heaven all the time and never defined it. He never said, “The kingdom of God is…” He always said, “The kingdom of God is like…” One of my favorite studies in my time at this church was a short term study last fall on N.T. Wright’s Simply Christian. One of the main themes of Bishop Wright’s book is that what the Bible means by heaven is not a physical place in the sky but a way of talking about God’s place. Heaven is God’s place, and earth is our place. We tend to think of God’s place and our place as completely separate, and to think that God’s place is where we go after we die and where we send our prayers in this life. Wright argues that one of the themes of scripture, both in the Old and New Testaments, is that God is always interweaving his life with ours, and God’s place is always interlocking and crossing paths with our place. Heaven and earth intersect. One way to think of Jesus’ proclamation that the Kingdom of God is near is to recognize that when Jesus came to earth something of heaven was interwoven with the life of earth. Jesus was saying that this was nothing new—heaven can be seen in the here and now, and God’s way of doing things is already a present reality for those who can see it. So Jesus could see something beyond simple description—he could glimpse the way in which God’s world crashes in on our world. He couldn’t say, “This is God’s Kingdom.” That would be too simple. Instead, he told parables. He was saying, “When God’s place breaks through into our place, this is what it looks like.” I’ve had many of those kinds of glory sightings in my time at this church. I see God’s world crash into our world every month at Joy for Johnny. In this world, children with special needs are defined by their disabilities, their siblings’ lives are shaped by the care their parents must provide for them. But at Joy for Johnny, kids with disabilities, their siblings, the volunteers, and the volunteers’ kids all play together. In the midst of “Duck, duck, goose” and basketball and “Tag,” we all forget who everybody else is in the world’s eyes. We don’t think about the kids with disabilities as having disabilities or the old people as being old people or the adults as being adults. We all play together and we are all like children. That’s the way it will be in the eternal Kingdom. Heaven gives us a preview in Wesley Hall once a month. So, parables are designed to help us look at our world as it is through heavenly eyes and see how God works in the earth. Today’s parables of the Kingdom give us two different but related views of God’s world breaking into our world. In the first, Jesus says that God’s kingdom is like a farmer who prepares a field and plants seed and goes to bed. The plants grow up; “He doesn’t know how.” I think what Jesus is telling us is that we work and strive for the coming of God’s kingdom. Through discipleship, obedience, service, planning, and hard work, we provide the conditions for God’s work in the earth. But in the end, we don’t know how God does what he does. We do our part, but the growing is up to God. We have theories about how God answers prayer and how people grow as disciples, but in the end, it’s really a mystery. We’re Methodists, and we believe in statistics and methods and programs. But in the end, we don’t really know how God does what he does. But we can see him doing it. In the second parable, Jesus says that the Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed. It’s a small insignificant weed kind of seed. It’s not important and no one thinks much about it. But somehow, it takes root and takes over and easily grows out of control. If Jesus were telling the parable in Alabama he might say, “The Kingdom of God is like kudzu.” Kudzu was planted in our part of the world to hold soil in place during Depression era droughts. It spread uncontrollably and could never be removed at this point. I’ve driven many back roads in our state preaching at this or that little church, and occasionally had my breath taken away when I topped a hill and saw a beautiful landscape in which every inch, every hill, every tree, every abandoned house and empty barn was completely covered in kudzu. That’s what the Kingdom of God is like—It seems so weak and small and unimportant to the world, and then one day you turn around and it’s completely taken over and can never be destroyed. What holds these parables together is the way in which Jesus looks at how God works in the world and gives us a glimpse of how the Kingdom of God grows. Mysteriously, unnoticed, uncontrollably, unexpectedly, the Kingdom of God springs up and advances. We play a part, but we don’t make it happen. Often, it’s only in looking back that we can see how God has made things grow. That’s why I’m glad we have these parables for this day; because today is a day to look back and to remember. It’s a day to notice how God has made his Kingdom grow in surprising and mysterious ways in our midst. It’s a day to thank God for what he has made grow. My family came to this community of faith five and a half years ago when I joined the staff of the Alabama-West Florida Conference of the UMC. It was the first time in my adult life that I was able to choose a church. It was the first time since 1999 that I worked somewhere besides a church. At that time, Dr. Stegall was the pastor, Jeremy and Patrick were associates, and David had just joined the staff unexpectedly when his plans to go the England to serve in the British Methodist Connexion fell through. Lauren was eight years old. Shawna was finishing her college degree and thinking about graduate work. I had just begun my doctoral studies. I began to volunteer from time to time around the church, preaching at Cara Vita and teaching Sunday School from time to time. I quickly remembered how much I loved serving the church just because I loved it and not because it was a job I was expected to do. I began to get to know some of you. Shawna sang in the choir and Lauren sang in the youth choir and I enjoyed sitting in the pew for a change. Dr. Bryan was appointed to the congregation a few months after we began to attend here, and I was honored to be a part of the processional on his first Sunday along with all the other clergy who attend here. I was surprised and overwhelmed when Dr. Bryan asked me to join the clergy staff a year later and I have felt so blessed and fortunate to have the opportunity to serve this amazing congregation every day since. When I first started here, I did my very best to keep a low profile and I think many of you could tell I was sort of scared to death. My hope was to just be a good support to Dr. Bryan, do whatever no one else wanted to do, and function as sort of a professional Sunday School teacher. You and Dr. Bryan and God had other plans. Who would have thought, for example, that we would have seen Great Day of Service grow like kudzu, like Jesus’s mustard seed? A few of us had the idea that if a few large congregations could have a service day on the same day, it would create a community event that would touch the city more profoundly, get more people excited to be a part, and create a system that would eventually make a service day easier for smaller congregations to organize. Our mission work area debated long and hard and agreed to lead the effort, but only if it was done right and the whole congregation invested in the effort. So we tilled the soil and we planted. And when we woke up, we were astounded at what grew over night. The love of God through our churches has taken over like kudzu. We started with three churches, then grew to over a dozen churches, and this year we counted the churches by the dozens, including a dozen participating congregations in the Wetumpka area alone. Several years ago, Dr. Bryan saw many opportunities for our congregation to partner with Huntingdon College and other educational institutions to serve as a Teaching Church, much as a teaching hospital provides a context for doctors to learn onsite. You affirmed this identity enthusiastically and I was blessed to be a part of one aspect of this dream—to develop an intern program designed to raise young people who would serve congregations in vocational ministry. Since then, thirteen Huntingdon students have served as full-time interns. Five of them are still with us, seven are either working in ministry or enrolled in seminary, and one, Sarah Francis, has a special ministry as a school teacher in the Montgomery Public Schools and as an active member of our congregation. These numbers do not tell the true story, though, of the growth that has occurred in the lives of each of these students. That growth is due to the mysterious grace of God, but it would be impossible if you had not loved them and taught them how to love Christ through Christ’s church. Three years ago Susan Hunt and Meredyth Earnest showed me a video of a respite ministry for children with special needs in Oklahoma City called “Hannah’s Promise.” We all cried and determined we would make a similar program a reality here. You worked and dreamed and made Joy for Johnny happen, and last Saturday 18 children filled the third floor of Wesley Hall with laughter and play. When I joined the staff you were already talking about how Cloverdale School might be used for ministry. We held meetings, dreamt together, prayed together, painted and spackled and hung sheetrock together. We tilled the ground and planted the seed, and God made his kingdom grow through that place. Hundreds of college students have worshipped there, thousands of the working poor have had their taxes prepared for free, over a dozen mission agencies have used the facility to serve our community in one way or another, and untold lives have been put together through the support groups held there. And only God can know how much his kingdom has grown through the lives that have been impacted by Sunday night worship at the Cloverdale School. Those are a few programs I’ve been a part of, things I never planned or hoped for, things you labored for and God caused to grow. But when I think of what has grown in our midst, I think first of the relationships that have grown. I think of the way God has caused the friendships among the clergy to grow. I want you to know that the four of us don’t just seem to like each other. We truly and authentically have absolute trust, deep friendship, and profound mutual respect for each other in a way that is surprisingly unique to church staffs. It has been one of the greatest joys and privileges of my life to serve with Lawson, David, and Jay. We have learned from each other, grown with each other, sharpened each other, and supported each other through many of life’s changes. We’ll see each other frequently. But I will constantly feel the loss of day-to-day collegiality and comraderie with these great men of God. Only God truly knows what David Saliba did for this church in the first months I was appointed to this church, when I was still getting my legs under me and was frequently gone with doctoral seminars and he was driving to Snellville, GA for CPE with an injured back. I’ll never forget when he called me into his office to tell me that he and Elizabeth had fallen in love and I pretended that I hadn’t figured that out on my own. He is my true friend; his dedication to serving Jesus Christ and his church with all his might and with absolute excellence has taught me so much and has made me so much better. Jay and I have enjoyed having offices next to each other and have developed many, many inside jokes. It’s been so fun to go back to seminary vicariously through him. His heart is so pure for the Gospel ministry that I’ve often felt shamed by my own tendencies toward cynicism. At one point Jay, Susan, Shawna, and I were all pursuing advanced degrees while trying to be good parents to adolescent children, so we have been fellow sufferers in a special way. We all made it through together with God’s help and with yours. Fred Fuller has been a dear friend and a father in the faith. When he was very sick, the preachers went to see him at home on his birthday. Dr. Bryan asked him if he had any advice for the young guys. He said, “Stay close to your lover. And not to sound religious, but stay close to your Lord.” John Blount and Jack Allen and Fred Zeigler only have some sense of the clergy community they are about to join. This is a group of guys who expect the very best of themselves and of each other, who support each other completely and appreciate each other’s uniqueness, who cover for each other and laugh together all the time. John and Jack and Fred will serve you well because their hearts burn with passionate commitment to Christ and his church, but also because these men will help them to be all God has called them to be. Of course, there are many things I could say about what Lawson and Sherrill have meant and continue to mean to me. Words will not suffice, and time will not permit. In short, Lawson Bryan has believed in me more than I have believed in myself every day. In the gentlest way, he has helped me to always be better than I really am. Sherrill believes the Kingdom of God can be established one paintbrush stroke at a time. If I had to pick a parable for her, it would be the parable of leaven, because she makes an unbelievable difference in all of our lives, though nearly all of what she does for us is hidden. You all have been our church. We prayed and hoped and cried to the Lord and wondered at the justice of God when we wanted a baby for years and didn’t have one. We will never forget that you celebrated the miracle that happened when the Lord allowed our family to grow. You welcomed Maggie Grace with baby showers and hand-knit blankets and baptismal vows that you truly meant. When I didn’t care about finishing my doctorate anymore, you wouldn’t let me quit (especially Paulette Thompson). You encouraged me and pushed me and you celebrated with me. You cared more about me and my growth than I cared myself. And that tells me that in the Kingdom of God, we measure growth not by programs or numbers or activities or buildings or budgets (although those are good things). Love is what grows. And it is love that has grown among us. The currency of the kingdoms of this world is money—we call how much money we have the “bottom line.” The bottom line of the world’s currency shifts and changes and ebbs and flows. Money’s not a bad thing—the kingdom of God can redeem the currency of the world when it’s used for the purpose of spreading love. But the currency of the Kingdom of God is love. Love is the bottom line in God’s space. The Kingdom of God is a kingdom of love. And the love of God, like wheat in a field and kudzu in Monroe County, always, always grows. I’ve taken five groups through Disciple 1 Bible Study in my time here. Each time, the group thinks they’ve come together to learn about the Bible. They do learn about the Bible, of course. But what we have really learned is what it’s like to be a part of a people who share life together in God’s Kingdom of love. Someone gets sick, someone has a baby, someone passes away or loses someone close to them, and everyone shares the joy or sorrow. By the end, a community has grown up like kudzu. We showed up and filled in the boxes in our manuals, just as the farmer planted the field, but God made us into a community of disciples and citizens of his loving kingdom. Our lives have been knit together in hospital rooms and Sunday School classes, in tearful phone calls, and hallway conversations. These children even had to grow to love me—the first time I led the children’s minute one of the little guys came running down the aisle and hit the brakes when he saw it wasn’t Patrick. But we’ve grown up together, too, and those kids who were here in my first children’s minutes are old enough to be talking back to their parents like good pre-adolescents. Four years ago I read over the pictoral directory every day and couldn’t get the names to stick. Now I drive through the Publix parking lot and I know everyone walking in and out and I know their life stories. I’ve held your children and thanked God for them on the days they were born. We’ve wept together when those we love have gone to the church triumphant. We’ve worked side by side on mission trips and Habitat for Humanity homes. God has knit our lives together. Tomorrow I will no longer be your pastor. But because I believe the Gospel, I believe that nothing that God has allowed to grow among us will ever be lost. Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13 that everything in earth and heaven will pass away—money, position, buildings, nations, ideas, institutions, programs—everything. Except for three things—faith, hope, and love. The greatest is love, and love never passes away. Love just grows. That means that whatever is done for the sake of the love of God in this world will not be lost in the world to come. It means that every act of love is a sign of the breaking in of the kingdom of God into the kingdoms of this world. We cannot know exactly how this is so, but we can know that it is so. Our group that studied N.T. Wright learned of this image: Imagine an apprentice stonemason in the Middle Ages laboring in a quarry miles from a cathedral. He has been told to cut a stone in a particular way because it will be used in a grand church. He may never see the site of the cathedral. He most certainly will not see the completed building. And yet, thousands of worshippers will experience God’s presence for centuries in a building that was partially made possible by his contribution, a contribution which remains ever after. God has promised that each act of God’s love, each relationship formed, each investment in another for his sake, will never be taken away from us. It is part of a kingdom that is eternal and unshakeable. Our love only grows. You may remember Bishop Duffey’s last words to us when he last preached from this pulpit. He did not say goodbye. He said, “Until we meet again.” He used those words because he knew what Jesus knew, and he knew that his love for us and our love for him would only grow. He knew that he would never see most of us again in this life. But he knew that the Kingdom of God is an eternal family that always reunites and is only briefly separated. I’m only moving a few miles away. I’ll see many of you often, though it won’t be quite the same. There are some of you I will not see again until we gather around the Crystal Throne. But because God’s kingdom of love only grows, I know that nothing will be lost. Our love will always grow, because God’s love in us always grows. I love you. I thank you. I pray God always, always blesses each of you and this great church. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.