WESLEY’S PRUDENTIAL MEANS OF GRACE
(Lesson #4)
December 7, 2008
We will end our series today on John Wesley’s “means of grace”, that part of his theology many consider his most important teaching. If you remember our last lesson, and I know that’s asking a lot, they were 1) prayer, 2) Bible study, 3) the Lord’s Supper, 4) fasting, 5) and group fellowship. Since Wesley deemed these practices to be ordained by God he called them the “instituted means of grace.” In addition, though, he added three precepts of his own. These he called the “prudential means of grace”; ways of living the Christian life that prudent Christians would follow.
The three prudential means of grace differ from the five institutional means of grace—by two. Another difference is, they are less specifically biblical (as you will soon see), yet are ways Christians logically would to put their beliefs into action. There is a good part of that and a bad part, in my opinion. But before we get into the good and the bad, let’s identify the prudential means of grace; they are: 1) do no harm, 2) do all the good you can, 3) and attend the private and public worship of God. As you can see, this closely follows biblical teaching such as 1 Peter 4:10 which says, “Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms.” So where do we receive these gifts we are to use? They are given to us because of God’s grace. And what are we to do with them? We are to serve others.
I mentioned that there could be a bad element in interpreting Wesley’s prudential means of grace, and let’s look at that first in something Wesley may have had in mind. According to Steve Harper, who, if you remember, is one of Wesley’s biographers, “He used these means (that is, the prudential means of grace) as conditions for continuing membership in the Methodist societies, and members were regularly examined to see how they were living up to such standards.” In other words, if you didn’t practice the prudential means of grace, you were dismissed from the Methodist Societies. And of the three, only one of them was objective, or measurable: “attending the private and public worship of God”. So one had to attend; and there were examinations to determine this. Needless to say, for most United Methodists today that would be a deal breaker. But in all honesty should we not admit that most people do better when they are accountable to someone other than themselves? But this is far too complicated to get into today, so I will leave it for another time. Still, it’s a pretty fascinating part of our history, to consider how far we’ve come from that, and if that had been good or bad.
Now let’s look at some of what is good about the three prudential means of grace. When I think of 1) doing no harm, 2) doing all the good you can, 3) and attending the private and public worship of God I immediately see that each of them involves two entities, and one of them isn’t God. They each involve me and somebody else. Whereas, of the instituted means of grace, only the last one, group fellowship, involves anyone other than God and me, the prudential means of grace involve a relationship between me and those with whom I share God’s creation. To put it another way, John Wesley believed that we receive grace directly from God, but we also receive it person to person. That implies two things: 1) we said before that grace is most akin to the idea of mercy. So God makes what we do for others an act of mercy—for us! 2) And to place it in the proper perspective, Wesley didn’t mean that we should depend on someone else to give grace to us, because God has already done that. The important idea here is that I will CONTINUE to receive God’s grace (his mercy) through what I do for others. But gosh; wouldn’t it be easier just to ask for it? Must I really do all of that—for them? I have a friend who worked his way from nothing to being very wealthy. He told me one time, everyone wants to be a millionaire—but few are willing to work hard enough to be one. Could that be the same as saying, “Everyone will admit they need continuing grace; but few are willing to do what it takes to receive it.”
There is ample precedent for this, not only over and over in scripture, where we read of people (including the prophets, Jesus and the disciples) ministering selflessly to others, but also from scholars who study the deeper meanings of our faith, and, thus, its wider implications. Let me give you three examples. First, writer and pastor, James L. Mayfield tells us, “The primary instrument God uses to give us grace is other people…People [also] are the primary instruments God uses to deliver us from our distress.” Think about that. Who put his or her arm around you as you hurt with pain, or were paralyzed by fear, or ravaged by grief? Who promised to pray for you? It is always someone who loved you enough to take, not send God’s grace to you. And this doesn’t imply, for instance, that sending our money to those in need, wherever they are in the world, isn’t good. It is! But there is more to it than that. We must take God’s grace to the ones right here in our community who are desperately in need of it.
The second example is suggested by one of my favorite twentieth century theologians, Reinhold Niebuhr, who wrote, “…the most potent form of divine grace is that which is mediated by human love.” I must confess that I struggled as I pondered Niebuhr's words here. I was shamed because of how seldom I’ve visited Gene Faires or Bill Lee or Grace Riggs. I’ve probably fallen short for many of you as well. Speaking for myself, it is just so easy to be too busy. Current writer, Barbara Brown Taylor, really nailed me when she wrote, “…the fraudulent virtue that has come up more than any other has been—talk about what comes naturally—busyness.” Can busyness really be a fraudulent virtue? I have on my desk the name of a former inmate at the Stiles Prison with whom I’ve prayed and shared God’s grace and many good times in Kairos. And now he’s out and working here in Beaumont; and I know where he’s working, but I still haven’t visited him. Yes, busyness is truly one of my fraudulent virtues!
And finally, current theologian, Miroslav Volf sort of sums up this idea of the prudential means of grace as he writes, “Inscribed on the very heart of God’s grace is the rule that we can be its recipients only if we do not resist being made into its agents; what happens to us must be done by us.” Would any of us sit here today and say, “Well if that’s what it takes to receive God’s grace, then count me out”? No, we don’t say that, but, you know, “the proof is in the pudding”; do we change anything? This is what God’s grace is all about. He does for us what he wants us to do for others. And he shows us how to do it, to be the agents of his grace. I suspect that most of us have forgotten what a blessing that is. If so, let me pose to you three questions.
1) Everyone wants to be loved—right? 2) And everyone, deep down, wants to be the hero, don’t we? 3) And do we not all like to be the one who turns on the light in someone’s eyes? Well God has given us the means to be and do all of those things—1) by taking his grace to those who need him; 2) to those who may have forgotten him; 3) and to those who may not know him. These people need a friend. I am reminded of something I read some time ago: “A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.” There are a lot of people out there who have forgotten the words, and we all know some of them. Let’s sing back to them the song in their hearts—as we place healing arms around them and say, “You matter to me”. To forget or neglect them is sinful if we really believe the tenets of our faith. And remember, God, knowing we are sincere in wanting to learn to love him, gives us each other on whom to practice. It’s what we do with that opportunity that tells us (and God) how sincere we are.
The more I study, the more I observe God working in my life and others, the more I understand how necessary it is to practice Wesley’s means of grace on a continuing basis. For the passing of God’s grace is primarily 1) a transfer of spiritual sustenance, the very food our souls need for us to survive. 2) It is an act of mercy, the very sustenance others need to survive, as well. But this is not a one-time occurrence; a real relationship with him doesn’t end in time, nor is it bound by the perimeter of our souls. God never intended for our spiritual lives to involve communion only with him. The most acclaimed theologian of the last century, Karl Barth, said, “…there is no private Christianity.” What God intended was for our relationship with him to be first; but that is the beginning, not the end, of spiritual completeness. It is to be followed closely by giving relationships—with all others. This is the heart of the two commandments on which Jesus said all the rest depended. In Matthew 22:36-40 Jesus was asked, "Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."
It’s hardly a stretch, then, to say that Wesley’s first five means of grace follow that first commandment in which we present ourselves to God. Wesley’s second three means of grace reflect the second part of Jesus’ teaching which was to present ourselves to each other. I think John Wesley might end this series by quoting Jesus’ from Matthew 25:40: “Inasmuch as you have done it to one of the least of these, my brethren, you have done it unto me.”
(Lesson #4)
December 7, 2008
We will end our series today on John Wesley’s “means of grace”, that part of his theology many consider his most important teaching. If you remember our last lesson, and I know that’s asking a lot, they were 1) prayer, 2) Bible study, 3) the Lord’s Supper, 4) fasting, 5) and group fellowship. Since Wesley deemed these practices to be ordained by God he called them the “instituted means of grace.” In addition, though, he added three precepts of his own. These he called the “prudential means of grace”; ways of living the Christian life that prudent Christians would follow.
The three prudential means of grace differ from the five institutional means of grace—by two. Another difference is, they are less specifically biblical (as you will soon see), yet are ways Christians logically would to put their beliefs into action. There is a good part of that and a bad part, in my opinion. But before we get into the good and the bad, let’s identify the prudential means of grace; they are: 1) do no harm, 2) do all the good you can, 3) and attend the private and public worship of God. As you can see, this closely follows biblical teaching such as 1 Peter 4:10 which says, “Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms.” So where do we receive these gifts we are to use? They are given to us because of God’s grace. And what are we to do with them? We are to serve others.
I mentioned that there could be a bad element in interpreting Wesley’s prudential means of grace, and let’s look at that first in something Wesley may have had in mind. According to Steve Harper, who, if you remember, is one of Wesley’s biographers, “He used these means (that is, the prudential means of grace) as conditions for continuing membership in the Methodist societies, and members were regularly examined to see how they were living up to such standards.” In other words, if you didn’t practice the prudential means of grace, you were dismissed from the Methodist Societies. And of the three, only one of them was objective, or measurable: “attending the private and public worship of God”. So one had to attend; and there were examinations to determine this. Needless to say, for most United Methodists today that would be a deal breaker. But in all honesty should we not admit that most people do better when they are accountable to someone other than themselves? But this is far too complicated to get into today, so I will leave it for another time. Still, it’s a pretty fascinating part of our history, to consider how far we’ve come from that, and if that had been good or bad.
Now let’s look at some of what is good about the three prudential means of grace. When I think of 1) doing no harm, 2) doing all the good you can, 3) and attending the private and public worship of God I immediately see that each of them involves two entities, and one of them isn’t God. They each involve me and somebody else. Whereas, of the instituted means of grace, only the last one, group fellowship, involves anyone other than God and me, the prudential means of grace involve a relationship between me and those with whom I share God’s creation. To put it another way, John Wesley believed that we receive grace directly from God, but we also receive it person to person. That implies two things: 1) we said before that grace is most akin to the idea of mercy. So God makes what we do for others an act of mercy—for us! 2) And to place it in the proper perspective, Wesley didn’t mean that we should depend on someone else to give grace to us, because God has already done that. The important idea here is that I will CONTINUE to receive God’s grace (his mercy) through what I do for others. But gosh; wouldn’t it be easier just to ask for it? Must I really do all of that—for them? I have a friend who worked his way from nothing to being very wealthy. He told me one time, everyone wants to be a millionaire—but few are willing to work hard enough to be one. Could that be the same as saying, “Everyone will admit they need continuing grace; but few are willing to do what it takes to receive it.”
There is ample precedent for this, not only over and over in scripture, where we read of people (including the prophets, Jesus and the disciples) ministering selflessly to others, but also from scholars who study the deeper meanings of our faith, and, thus, its wider implications. Let me give you three examples. First, writer and pastor, James L. Mayfield tells us, “The primary instrument God uses to give us grace is other people…People [also] are the primary instruments God uses to deliver us from our distress.” Think about that. Who put his or her arm around you as you hurt with pain, or were paralyzed by fear, or ravaged by grief? Who promised to pray for you? It is always someone who loved you enough to take, not send God’s grace to you. And this doesn’t imply, for instance, that sending our money to those in need, wherever they are in the world, isn’t good. It is! But there is more to it than that. We must take God’s grace to the ones right here in our community who are desperately in need of it.
The second example is suggested by one of my favorite twentieth century theologians, Reinhold Niebuhr, who wrote, “…the most potent form of divine grace is that which is mediated by human love.” I must confess that I struggled as I pondered Niebuhr's words here. I was shamed because of how seldom I’ve visited Gene Faires or Bill Lee or Grace Riggs. I’ve probably fallen short for many of you as well. Speaking for myself, it is just so easy to be too busy. Current writer, Barbara Brown Taylor, really nailed me when she wrote, “…the fraudulent virtue that has come up more than any other has been—talk about what comes naturally—busyness.” Can busyness really be a fraudulent virtue? I have on my desk the name of a former inmate at the Stiles Prison with whom I’ve prayed and shared God’s grace and many good times in Kairos. And now he’s out and working here in Beaumont; and I know where he’s working, but I still haven’t visited him. Yes, busyness is truly one of my fraudulent virtues!
And finally, current theologian, Miroslav Volf sort of sums up this idea of the prudential means of grace as he writes, “Inscribed on the very heart of God’s grace is the rule that we can be its recipients only if we do not resist being made into its agents; what happens to us must be done by us.” Would any of us sit here today and say, “Well if that’s what it takes to receive God’s grace, then count me out”? No, we don’t say that, but, you know, “the proof is in the pudding”; do we change anything? This is what God’s grace is all about. He does for us what he wants us to do for others. And he shows us how to do it, to be the agents of his grace. I suspect that most of us have forgotten what a blessing that is. If so, let me pose to you three questions.
1) Everyone wants to be loved—right? 2) And everyone, deep down, wants to be the hero, don’t we? 3) And do we not all like to be the one who turns on the light in someone’s eyes? Well God has given us the means to be and do all of those things—1) by taking his grace to those who need him; 2) to those who may have forgotten him; 3) and to those who may not know him. These people need a friend. I am reminded of something I read some time ago: “A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.” There are a lot of people out there who have forgotten the words, and we all know some of them. Let’s sing back to them the song in their hearts—as we place healing arms around them and say, “You matter to me”. To forget or neglect them is sinful if we really believe the tenets of our faith. And remember, God, knowing we are sincere in wanting to learn to love him, gives us each other on whom to practice. It’s what we do with that opportunity that tells us (and God) how sincere we are.
The more I study, the more I observe God working in my life and others, the more I understand how necessary it is to practice Wesley’s means of grace on a continuing basis. For the passing of God’s grace is primarily 1) a transfer of spiritual sustenance, the very food our souls need for us to survive. 2) It is an act of mercy, the very sustenance others need to survive, as well. But this is not a one-time occurrence; a real relationship with him doesn’t end in time, nor is it bound by the perimeter of our souls. God never intended for our spiritual lives to involve communion only with him. The most acclaimed theologian of the last century, Karl Barth, said, “…there is no private Christianity.” What God intended was for our relationship with him to be first; but that is the beginning, not the end, of spiritual completeness. It is to be followed closely by giving relationships—with all others. This is the heart of the two commandments on which Jesus said all the rest depended. In Matthew 22:36-40 Jesus was asked, "Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."
It’s hardly a stretch, then, to say that Wesley’s first five means of grace follow that first commandment in which we present ourselves to God. Wesley’s second three means of grace reflect the second part of Jesus’ teaching which was to present ourselves to each other. I think John Wesley might end this series by quoting Jesus’ from Matthew 25:40: “Inasmuch as you have done it to one of the least of these, my brethren, you have done it unto me.”
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