When John Raised the Bar

I’m amazed by John Wesley.

But not for the normal things.  Not for his character, commitment to Christ, preaching ability, or anything like that.  I’m amazed that he wrote down what he expected his congregation to sound like.

Back in the day (late 18th century England), you only probably had a few books in your house.  Unless you were rich.  Most of those books stayed in your house.  Because of the cost of printing, books were priceless and even regarded as heirlooms.

Only 2 books ever left your house: your family Bible and a family hymnal (if you were lucky enough to own one).  They only left on Sunday.  They were precious to you.  In the front of your Bible was a family list or a rough genealogy.  If you belonged to one of Wesley’s churches, you’d find another list inside front cover of your hymnal – a list of directives.

These weren’t optional.

These weren’t a suggestion.

This is how John Wesley saw worship.

THE POINT:

Imagine what it would be like to worship in Wesley’s church.  Give this some thought.  I mean, how gutsy is this?  Because you and I live in an era of passing worship fads, we might be tempted to believe that Wesley is slightly out of date.  But I’m not so sure.

A few questions:

  1. Do any of the above points rub you wrong?  Care to share why?
  2. Do any illicit an inaudible “amen” from you?  Why?
  3. Would you add anything?

Mr. Wesley, I’m sending a high-five your way.  Thanks for raising the bar, brother.

A Dusty Book. An Awesome Text.

Dusty books rock.

A few weeks ago, I found myself with an extra hour in my brother’s shared office. Because he’s a literature grad student, his office is full of awesome books.

My eyes fell on a book called “The History and Use of Hymns.” Published in 1903. Perfect! The next thing I knew, I was neck deep in nerd-land.

Happy to be so.

Among the treasures I found was the following hymn by William Cowper, whom I’ve blogged about before. I’m not sure of the story behind this little beauty, but I thought I’d pass it on nonetheless.

A Debtor to Mercy Alone

Love, love, love the lyric.

If you’re a song-writer, let’s find a melody for this. (I’ve got mine, but I’m curious to see what else is out there…)

Your Kid is a Theologian.

I have three kids.

Joseph is 6. Carston is 4. Hannah is 2.

They blow me away. Every day.

Not just in the what they say (as in “those-kids-say-the-darndest-things” sentiment), but in how they perceive themselves and their world. Children have an honesty that – for some reason – continually thrills and bewilders adults.

Although he never married and was never a father, Isaac Watts understood the power of theological education for children. His own theological imagination was stirred early on. His father, a deacon in a dissenting church, encouraged his son to process his world through the lens of biblical theology.

And the result was incredible.

At age 7, Watts used his name as a acrostic for the story of grace:

I – I am vile, polluted lump of earth
S – So I’ve continued ever since my birth
A – Although Jehovah, grace doth daily give me
A – As sure this monster, Satan, will deceive me
C – Come therefore, Lord, from Satan’s claws relieve me

W – Wash me in Thy blood, O Christ
A – And grace divine impart
T – Then search and try the corners of my heart
T – That I in all things may be fit to do
S – Service to Thee, and Thy praise too

Partly owing to the diligence of his own father, and partly as a result of his experiences in the church, Watts created an entire hymnal specifically for children in 1715: Divine Songs for Children.

Most notably, this was the first faith-based song book made exclusively for children.

Watts included some heavy theology in his collection – drawing on the book of Psalms for most of his texts. In the preface (addressed to children’s workers), Watts writes:

“MY FRIENDS – It is an awful and important charge that is committed to you. The wisdom and welfare of the succeeding generation are intrusted with you before hand, and depend much on your conduct.

The seeds of misery or happiness in this world, and that to come, are oftentimes sown very early; and, therefore, whatever may conduce to give the minds of children a relish for virtue and religion ought in the first place, to be proposed to you.”

Heavy stuff. I love it.

FOR PASTORS:  Sometimes I’m that Dad in the front row of the school play with the camcorder.  But cute stuff in church doesn’t stick. Trotting the kids out to sing a special number with Aunt Bea is all well and good, but kids are capable of far more than we give them space (and time) for.  Here are a few thoughts:

1.  A love for children is a good first step. But please, please, please hire people who are capable of teaching. Being a part of a church that supports what I’m teaching my kids is one of the biggest blessings parents can have.

2.  Create space for kids to lead. I’m serious. In appropriate ways, give kids a platform. How cool would it have been if young Watts’ pastor would have encouraged the rest of his congregation to make an acrostic for their names?

3.  Integrate your ministry. Don’t make your sanctuary, auditorium, worship center (whatever you call it) the dominate expression of your church. Instead, pump resources, space, and people into your children’s ministry.

4.  Don’t be afraid of parents. Sure, Watts was a brilliant kid. But let’s not forget: he had a devoted father. Give the parents in your congregation a vision for theologically deep children.