AS THINGS HAVE turned out, 1963 is a year for Methodism to remember for two reasons, one historical and the other contemporary: first, it brings round the 225th anniversary of John Wesley’s Aldersgate experience—an occasion which is being widely celebrated in Methodist circles; second, this year of grace has seen the publication of the report on the conversations between the Church of England and The Methodist Church. The former points back to the true heart of Methodism; the latter places Methodism before the crossroads of decision as it faces the future.
John Wesley, as is well known, was not a separatist. He was born, lived, and died in the Church of England. And the same was true of his brother Charles—though Charles considered it unlawful to separate from the Church of England, whereas John considered it inexpedient.
In the earlier years of his ministry the Rev. John Wesley could justly be described as a “high” churchman. He was a strict legalist, earnest in his devotion to duty and the observance of formalities, exemplary in his own high standard of morality, a disciplinarian of himself as well as of others. But the one vital thing was missing: a religion of the heart. In 1737, for example, when he was in Georgia, the exclusive view of episcopacy which he held caused him to insist on rebaptizing the children of dissenting families, to refuse admission to Holy Communion to all who had not been episcopally confirmed, and to decline to bury any who had not been baptized in the episcopal church. This discrimination extended even to the Moravian missionaries whom he so greatly admired for their piety. Thus, referring some years later to a letter he had received from the Austrian pastor, John Bolzius, he wrote in his journal: “What a truly Christian piety and simplicity breathe in these lines! And yet this very man, when I was at Savannah, did I refuse to admit to the Lord’s Table, because he was not baptized; that is, not baptized by a minister who had been episcopally ordained. Can any one carry High Church zeal higher than this? And how well have I been since beaten with mine own staff!”
By a kind of poetic justice it was the Moravian brethren whom God used to convince Wesley of the central deficiency in his spiritual life—so much so that in reply to the question as to what he had learned from his visit to Georgia he felt bound to say: “Why (what I least of all suspected) that I, who went to America to convert others, was never myself converted to God.” A conflict raged within his breast until that memorable twenty-fourth day of May, 1738, when, unwillingly attending the meeting in Aldersgate Street, he felt his heart strangely warmed as he listened to one reading from Luther’s preface to Romans, and came to personal faith: “I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for my salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me.…”
Now at last he had a religion of the heart, and a Gospel to proclaim of personal salvation through faith in the finished work of Christ. Now the high churchman became the evangelical churchman. Now the formalist became the itinerant preacher, forced to improvise for the sake of the Gospel. Cold-shouldered by bishops, shut out from churches, he preached in rooms, in the streets, in the fields—wherever anxious souls could be found to hear.
Today in England, Methodists and Anglicans are planning to heal the breaches of the past. The report now published of the official conversations which have taken place has many commendable features. It reflects the excellent spirit in which these conversations were conducted. Yet the recommendations launched by the report seem to be headed for the rocks, for of the Methodist delegates four, all distinguished members of their denomination, have tabled a dissentient view. This in itself is an indication that the report is certain to divide the ranks of Methodism.
The issue may perhaps be summed up as follows: Which John Wesley do the Methodists now intend to follow—the high churchman or the evangelical churchman? For the main bone of contention in the proposed Service of Reconciliation is precisely the intrusion of the high-church doctrine of episcopacy. This service is expressly designed to provide a way by which “Orders such as Anglicans have inherited from the undivided Church may be given to those who have not previously received them”; and the distinctive character of these Orders may, apparently, be designated by the term “priesthood.” Accordingly prayer is offered that the Methodist ministers on whom episcopal hands are laid may be endued with “grace for the office of priest,” and after the laying on of his hands the bishop authorizes them to “exercise the office of priest.” This leads the dissentient four to conclude that “it is impossible to doubt that whatever else the rite implies it confers episcopal ordination.”
The exclusive doctrine of episcopacy which they condemn coincides in general with the doctrine of Wesley during his early high-church period. It is not the doctrine of classical Anglicanism, and there are very many in the Church of England today who deplore the fact that this narrow theory of episcopacy is becoming so constant a stumblingblock in the way of full and free communion with fellow Christians. Unless this obstruction is removed, it is difficult to see how there can be any hope of true progress towards unity. At the same time it is commonly accepted that the form of a reunited church in England should be episcopal: but it will have to be a moderate type of episcopacy which does not hopelessly prejudice the issue by exclusive theories of ministerial validity.
More important, however, than the question of order is the question of faith. If the Church is to make a spiritual impact on our contemporary world, then the way forward is still the evangelical way that starts at Aldersgate.
