Aldersgate

 

Hello everyone. Welcome to Aldersgate Sunday. Take it from a professional and highly qualified Methodist - this is a big deal and, in no way did I just find out about this this morning during the service.  In 1738, on the 24th May, Church of England priest John Wesley preached to some vicar-type people and went down like a lead balloon. Disappointed, he attended a meeting at the Fetter Lane Society, probably intending to sit at the back in a bit of a sulky mood and then sneak out five minutes before the end and go to the pub. 

However, God had different ideas, and Wesley's quote about the evening has gone down in history.  

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. 

This is known as Wesley's Evangelical Conversion, and he went straight home and founded the Methodist Church. (Well, not quite, but you get the idea.) He also described his heart as being "strangely warmed", which my father used to say was Wesley's Baptism in the Holy Spirit. It's not exactly your pastor in a black church lying in a starfish shape whilst singing in tongues, but I suppose if you measure it by the effect this event had on the world, it certainly showed every sign of a movement of the Spirit.

You'll have to trust me that the photo above is a memorial containing the words in Wesley's Journal, describing the event. I realise that it could say anything, but I have things to do and no time to scour the Internet for something better. Sorry.

So this morning, we sang one of John's brother Charles Wesley's hymns to celebrate, "And can it be?" which is a song that I love - "'Tis mercy all, immense and free, for Oh my God, it found out me." Unfortunately, this morning, I was standing in front of someone who had decided to sing it competitively, so it was a bit of a racket, but never mind. 

I was "on coffee" this morning - thankfully with someone who knows what she is doing. We have drinks before and after the meeting. I am on the "before" rota, where I can't do as much damage. This was me - last time  I was on the rota - "If the dishwasher isn't draining - is that a bad thing?" The manager of Soft Play (there's quite a big soft play set up in the church, which runs all week) was very nice about it, considering a broken dishwasher would be a disaster for her. I did see her with a large screwdriver about twenty minutes later, but apparently it all got sorted, and it wasn't my fault, actually, despite what you were all thinking. In fact, I probably did her a favour by discovering it on a Sunday rather than during the week. She didn't say that - but I bet she thought it.

Anyway, we had a gentleman of the road in this morning who had partaken of a substance which wasn't entirely natural and was not making him particularly coherent. He came for a coffee to which he added six sugars. SIX! Then came back for a second and did the same again. Our Responsible Person (we have someone who strides purposefully around the foyer during the meeting to stop people sneaking into the car park and blocking fifteen people in while they "pop to Marks" or gets parents out of the meeting when their child is having a ballistic in Glow group, etc.) he came into the kitchen to let us know that this gentleman was obviously "on something" and that they were keeping an eye on him. The lady I was serving with observed, "I'll tell you what he's on - twelve sugars, six custard creams and a large chocolate chip muffin leftover from a children's party." The sugar buzz in his head must have been very deafening. Anyway, he came back to me for a further cup of coffee and asked if we had any brown sugar because that's better for you than white. Impressed by his levels of self-care, I found some sachets of brown under the counter, handed over six packets and sent him on his way. 

At the end of the meeting, we queued up for Communion. (We had a bigwig in to serve it - so we were allowed.) HOH and I ended up queuing up behind a very nice man who always gives us a humbug each when we are on the door. There was a lot of sniggery banter about it being like Tesco's, where the other queue is always moving faster and threatening to leg people up who were pushing in (Very quiet and respectful, obviously - we are not animals).

The bigwig had preached on Joseph - we are doing a series. I struggled a bit because there was a littley behind me playing Super Mario (at a REALLY low level, but you know when you can just hear it?) I was a bit irritated, but when we all had to "do the Peace" For the uninitiated everyone spends a minute or so walking round shaking hands and saying things - I think it is Peace Be With You but I am not entirely sure, so I just move my lips a bit and then smile winningly. It's fine. I turned round and the little boy on the Switch turned out to be as cute as a button, as was his harassed mum, so I immediately forgave them everything. 

The preacher sais that he wanted us to take away more about Joseph than just Andrew Lloyd Webber songs which is all well and good but I scored some pretty impressive points in a pub quiz once by being able to name ten of the tribes of Israel by singing that song from Joseph (under my breath obviously) so let's not knock it too much eh? 

I don't know why I am telling you any of this, really. Except Church does my head in sometimes, and sometimes it's really hard work. I know that some people who would love to go to church can't, for lots of reasons, and some people who would rather not find that they have to go, and Christians can be a bit of a mess. But, it is a comfort to me that we are nowt special, really; most Christians are doing their best. 

Sometimes "fellowship" in all its forms - either in or out of church is a pain in the bum. Sometimes it is wonderful, and sometimes it is just low-level rubbing along. All these are valid, I think. This is the way. Have a good week.

I want you to get out there and walk—better yet, run!—on the road God called you to travel. I don’t want any of you sitting around on your hands. I don’t want anyone strolling off, down some path that goes nowhere. And mark that you do this with humility and discipline, not in fits and starts, but steadily, pouring yourselves out for each other in acts of love, alert at noticing differences and quick at mending fences. You were all called to travel on the same road and in the same direction, so stay together, both outwardly and inwardly. Eph 4