I once heard someone say that Christians should never use the word “hopeless.”

Years later, this phrase still haunts me.

It haunts me because I’m regularly tempted to look at situations and label them hopeless. And I’m sure you are too, whether it’s in regards to the homeless man who asks you for change every day, a difficult relationship in your life, or that one situation you’ve been praying for.

I’ve been blogging through old notes written generations ago by some of my family members, the Talleys.  And one note I came across led me to imagine that the Talley family dealt with hopelessness as well.

Three out of five of Mr. and Mrs. Talley’s sons became Methodist ministers. Their only daughter was active in the church. This left two adult sons, John Wesley and Elkanah, who did not know Christ as Savior and cared little about the church.

I imagine that hopelessness set in after John and Elkanah’s parents and siblings had prayed and shared God’s love with them for many years with no response. I imagine that they were tempted to think, and at times thought, that their family members would never experience God’s saving grace and the beauty of the church themselves.

But John Wesley Talley’s testimony reveals that such hopelessness would have ultimately been misguided:


“With such surroundings at home and the examples of my three oldest brothers, William, Alexander, and Nicholas, who had embraced religion and entered the Itinerancy, brother Nathan a local minister and brother Caleb a layman, and an only sister in the church, myself and brother Elkanah remained without religion;

Elkanah was the fifth son and I was the seventh.

That we should have resisted so long surrounded with such light is a wonder to me, but that the long sufferings of God should have continued toward us, the two wayward sinners is a miracle of grace, through the importunity of faith by the now sainted ones.

During the vacation of the school I was attending at Salem, Clark County, GA I went with the family to a camp meeting at Liberty Chapel, Green County. I had been much impressed and brought by the Spirit’s power and influence to see that I was a sinner. The light of the Bible, the godly lives of Stepfather, Mr. John Walker, & Mother, the prayers of a family resisted, overwhelmed me with deep dawning in gratitude toward Jesus Christ and God’s forbearance still to bear with me. I, by grace, resolved to give myself to God and seek his pardon and be reconciled to Jesus Christ my Saviour.”

Salem Camp Meeting

Campmeetings, which began in 18th century America, continue to be held today. 


Nothing is hopeless with God in view.

The disciples thought things were hopeless when Jesus was crucified. But three days later he showed them that he had conquered death. The outcasts in Israel thought they would never have any friends, until Jesus showed them that a new Kingdom on earth was being established that put them at the center. Sinners who thought they had no hope of ever being in a relationship with God found their situation transformed when Jesus said, “Your sins are forgiven.”

And this transforming power of God is still available to us today through the Holy Spirit.

What situation or person in your life have you been tempted to give up on?  Where have you seen God transform your hopelessness into hope in the past?

 

This is the third post in a series that highlights the writings of my 19th century ancestors.

1. Christians are made not born
2. The power of a testimony

The power of a testimony

Jonathan —  July 30, 2012 — 3 Comments

I grew up listening to people’s Christian testimonies whenever I could.

Whether it was hearing from a man freed from a life of addiction at a youth retreat, listening to a sweaty preacher tell how God transformed their life, reading books like The Cross and the Switchblade, or hearing about people who met Christ in dreams, I held on to every word. The more extreme the better.

And I still love hearing or seeing accounts of God radically changing people’s lives. Testimonies remind me of the power of God’s grace. They comfort me as I see again that where one finds themselves in a single moment is not where they have to end up. They narrate the Christian story of repentance, faith, and discipleship with concrete people in history.

As I’ve grown older, I no longer find only extreme testimonies compelling. Hearing from someone who was raised in the church and, like myself, never did lines of cocaine off of a bathroom sink also helps reveal God’s grace to me. In these stories, God seems quieter — almost like a still small voice rather than a consuming fire.  Yet, God seems just as powerful. Various testimonies help paint a more full picture of how God may operate in the world. 

When I came across the testimony below of my great, great, great, great uncle, Rev. Nicholas Talley, I couldn’t help but be encouraged by a hard lesson that I’m slowly learning in ministry: We are all co-workers in God’s service.  Some plant seeds.  Some water them. And God makes them all grow (1 Corinthians 3).

At times in ministry I’m tempted to want to see immediate fruit from my efforts. But the number of Christians who touched Nicholas’ life before he became a Christian reminds me that God employs all of our efforts for the sake of the Kingdom, whether we can see it or not.

I’ve made some grammar changes, spelling changes, and emphases in the text below to the document that Rev. Talley wrote in 1857.

His testimony begins in 1803 when he was eleven years old.


A bright moonlight night [February 15, 1803], my Father was very ill, hope of surviving gone, he communicated to Mother his peaceful state of mind in view of Eternity just before him.

They were both of the Methodist Episcopal Church where I had heard preaching for years, such men as Hope Hull, Britton Capel, Benjamin Blanton, Isaiah Randel & Bishop Whatcoat, Stith Meed.

The ground was covered with snow.

Cade's Cove Methodist Church

Cade’s Cove Methodist Church – Cade’s Cove, TN

I retired to the field or garden to meditate alone and to pray about 10:00.  I kneeled down in the snow and prayed the best I could that God would spare my Father as a guide and protector in this wicked world, but if He saw most for glory to take him then, that God would be my Father and care for me, Mother & Brothers.

And while I thus prayed my soul seemed melted in ecstasy, though deeply impressed with a voice from heaven – your Father will die but I will be a Father, a God, and guide unto you.

The moon, the stars, and the Heavens all seemed glorious to me.  Here was my first knowledge of the answer of my prayers.

I was happy but suppressed my feelings all in sorrow and tears.  I feared to divulge my feelings lest I should be thought an enthusiast.

In 1806, my fifteenth year, I entered as a clerk in D. & B. Sanford’s store with my Brother Alexander, who embraced religion two years after, much persecuted as the Methodists were for everything vile.

A change of heart by the power of the Holy Ghost was unphilosophical.  He soon entered the Ministry where he lived until death called him above.  I remained for near four years in the store, became worldly like other young men and great danger of bad habits.  My Mother would have me to return home, quitting the store.

I became attached to a young man who was a Methodist, and worked at his trade as a Coach Maker near my Mother, where I spent most of my time, and being ambitious and fond of the young men of the shop who sung well and often when at work, joining in the different parts of music, I could soon work as well as they could.

Lovick Pierce had married Col. Foster’s daughter, he would visit us.  I was very fond of him and the Rev. Joseph Tarpley, James Russell, Osburn Rogers and others of that day, but oh, my soul was not happy.

In the 5th of August 1810 I went with my Mother to Camp Meeting where she tented, called Burks camp ground, when under a persuasive exhortation of the Rev. Hope Hull, who had preached my father’s funeral years before I went in Sanford’s store, my heart became deeply affected.

I tried to pray but oh, the condemnation I felt I had sinned so against light and knowledge.  I feared my case was a hopeless case.

At a late hour Sabbath night after Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, penitents were invited to come into that rural altar for prayer and there I felt a peace and comfort of soul such as I had felt on that beautiful moonlight night spoken of in childhood.  I was happy in my Saviour’s love.


Rev. Nicholas Talley, 1791-1873, had four brothers who were also Methodist ministers.  He was made an Elder in the SC Conference in 1816 where he spent his entire career.  In those days, it included GA.  In 62 years of ministry Nicholas served 22 as a Presiding Elder, 12 at a station church, 9 itinerating on circuits, 14 on missions, and 5 retired.  He was a delegate to General Conference multiple times.

His testimony comes in a series of others.

 

“Christians are made, not born.” – Tertullian, second century

What if no one ever told you about the gospel of Jesus Christ?  What if your parents were Christians but decided not to ever discuss their faith with you because they didn’t want to “indoctrinate” you?  What if your friend, or the random person who first talked to you about Christ, decided not to because it might be awkward?

You wouldn’t be a Christian.

Christianity is not a faith that passes through the blood.  As missiologist Andrew Walls has observed, it must continuously be translated into a given culture, interact with it, and be passed on by others empowered by the Holy Spirit.  Or else it withers and fades.

These truths have recently led me to be thankful for “the communion of saints”—all those Christians in the past and present—that we speak of in the Apostles’ Creed.  I am particularly thankful for those saints who hold places closer than I to the trunk of my family tree.  They proclaimed and embodied the faith to their children.  And generations later, their actions helped lead to my baptism as an infant and acceptance of God’s wonderful gift of grace when I was older.

Looking at how God has worked long before we entered this world in order to draw us to himself reveals a beautiful picture of prevenient grace. Prevenient grace is an undeserved gift of God that goes before us, draws us to God, and ultimately prepares and enables us, a fallen humanity, to freely respond in faith to Christ.

The next few blog posts will contain excerpts of testimonies from family members of mine who God used to prepare the way for me.  These people responded to God’s grace in their lives, shared the transforming power of God with others, and left a record for future generations to behold.

My hope is that these excerpts will lead you to thanksgiving for the generations of Christians before us and lead you to see how God has worked in the past and may be working in the present.

Of course, it all begins with a mother. My great, great, great, great grandmother.

Mrs. Elizabeth Talley Stuart (b. 1764) “was clear and strong and greatly imbued with the Holy Spirit, carrying the flame of God’s love in her own soul; family prayer she ever kept up and often in perfect ecstasy to shout God’s praise at the family altar and in private devotion, often in the garden in the dusk of evening where she delighted to go for meditation and prayer.  She lived to see her children grown and in the church and five sons Ministers of the Gospel.”

Excerpted from “The Outline” by Methodist Minister Rev. Nicholas Talley (1791-1873)


Communion of Saints

As a Christian, have you ever had those times when you thought, “I can’t speak that hard-to-hear truth to my friend. That could cause a rupture in our relationship. Or lead to future awkwardness…”?

I certainly have.  Especially since I tend to be a harmonizer — someone who looks for concensus and doesn’t enjoy conflict.

Grace and truth are held together in Jesus Christ (John 1:17).  But let’s be honest, most of us are better at extending grace than speaking difficult truths in love to those we love.

One of my former seminary professors prodded me in this area with his challenging words below.  While his words are directed to pastors, they easily apply to all Christians.  This excerpt was drawn from an 11,000 word theological discussion on facebook (yes, things like that tend to show up on your mini-feed when you’re friends with professors).

Predicador

A young Methodist preacher
La Iglesia Evangelica Metodista El Buen Samaritano in Nicaragua

“After one sermon I preached at a friend’s church, I noticed the pastor and his wife, who are dear dear friends, were silent.

Finally, I asked, “You did not like that sermon did you?”

He said, “It was too ‘Christ against culture’.”

She said, “It did not sound like you.”

That is the point, I thought.

The message is the word of God and sometimes the Scriptures lead us where we do not want to go and say things that we do not want to say. Every honest pastor feels the contradiction between his life and the message he is called to preach.

Anytime we render a judgment about the good someone is going to feel the sting.

To use Luther’s language, some will hear it as gospel that liberates and delights and others will hear it as law that condemns because it names an omission or a commission.

As a Christian, submitting to the Lordship of Christ fundamentally means that no element of our lives is off limits. All aspects are subject to his judgment. And because we all have sined and fallen short, all of us will feel the sting of God’s judgment – a sting intended to call us to repentance and the joy of grace.

Sins such as gluttony are forms of the world’s brokenness. When we name such and such actions or thoughts as sin we name that brokenness, that disordered love that is in need of healing and reordering.

The prophetic office entails naming sin, naming the brokenness of the world (and declaring God’s good will for his creation), however painful it is to say and for them to hear. But the good pastor/prophet in compassion is with her people in their brokenness.”

Do you have trouble speaking truth in love?  Have you ever had an experience where this went much worse than expected?  Better?

“How many times did you worship at the church before you went on staff?  Once, twice?” asked a friend the other day.

“Zero,” I replied.

“Huh?”

“It’s a bit complicated, but let me try and explain how United Methodist churches work…”

I’ve had the above conversation many times recently.  Most of my friends from high school and college are members of Presbyterian, Baptist, or non-denominational churches.  Explaining how a pastor ends up at a church in those traditions is similar to how anyone else in America ends up at a job—you’re open for a position, you find openings at churches you’d like to serve, you interview and send in reference materials, a group at the church gives you an offer, and you decide whether to accept or keep looking.

To understand how pastors end up at United Methodist churches, forget all of that.

Churches in the UMC receive new pastors through a system called itinerancy.  Itinerancy is a system of church organization in which ministers are sent to local churches by a Bishop and are regularly rotated from one to another.  Ministers and Bishops are all part of a geographically organized conference (mine is North GA), which is broken down further into districts.  The conference limits where a Bishop can appoint each pastor to serve.

The appointments aren’t random—every year the Bishop and District Superintendents consult with those like me seeking a pastoral appointment and with each church in the conference.  Through much prayer and conferencing, they then seek to determine where to send pastors so that the UMC can best live out its mission: to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.  The gifts of the pastor, his or her family/life situation, the needs of a local church, the needs of the denomination, and many other factors are involved in the process.

Bishop Mike Watson of the North GA Conference

Bishop Mike Watson of the North GA Conference. Photo courtesy of NGUMC.org

Typically, pastors find out where they’re sent via a phone call in the spring.  Some are sent far away, some are sent to a church nearby, and some are asked to stay where they are.  Those moving begin to envision life and ministry at a church they’ve never visited.  One week in June, all the pastors who have been appointed to new churches move and begin ministry at their new churches.  All appointments are made for only a year at a time.  However, the average length of a UM pastor is around four years.  There is also a trend towards longer appointments.  You can read more about the current itinerant system here.

Many Methodist Churches in Britain, Central America, and all over the world continue to use this system that has a historical basis from Methodism’s earliest days.

The UMC website sums up the history well.  ”John Wesley began the itinerant system during his work in England. Wesley developed circuits for his assistants to travel, each of which included a large number of appointments. Preachers visited these appointments about once a month and changed circuits from year to year, depending on the current circumstances.”

1839

Mt. Zion United Methodist Church. Established 1839. Wilmore, KY.

On American soil, itinerancy adapted to the conditions at hand.  Traveling preachers became known as circuit riders as they rode from one outpost to another helping organize, lead, and perform the sacraments for groups of Christians across the frontier. This system enabled Methodist preachers to reach new settlements quickly.  The rapid growth of Methodism throughout the 18th and 19th centuries in America can be partly attributed to this form of organization.

“We have found by long and consistent experience that a frequent exchange of preachers is best. This preacher has one talent, that another; no one whom I ever yet knew has all the talents which are needful for beginning, continuing, and perfecting the work of grace in a whole congregation.” – John Wesley

If you are still reading at this point and you’re not a Methodist, you are probably thinking, “What a crazy system!”

If you are a Methodist congregant, you are probably thinking, “I’ve seen a lot of itinerant preachers come and go.  I’ve seen some crazy ones and many gifted ones.  I’m just thankful that we’ve never had a time without a pastor and that this church isn’t dependent on one person.”

If you are a Methodist pastor, perhaps like me you are thinking, “Lord, this itinerant system is counter to a culture that tells us to do what we want, look out for ourselves, and never submit to authorities.  I’ve placed myself in the hands of your church—in its beauty and brokenness.  I’m trusting that the Holy Spirit is present in the appointment process and that you are actively working all things together for good.  Give me strength, peace, joy, and a renewed love for you and your people as I travel to a new place.”

In the future I hope to write about the strengths and weaknesses of the itinerant system.  For non-Methodists, what do you think about this system?  For Methodists, how have you found living within this system?