July 2020 — pg. 7
“In the world, but not of it.” Jesus’ followers have wrestled
with this tension ever since He prayed the words in John
17. Jesus makes a clear distinction between His followers
who, like Himself, stand on the side of the Father against
the evil one, and “the world.” He even states that the world
has hated His followers as it has hated Him (John 17:14),
just hours before the final drama of His crucifixion unfolds.
Early Free Methodists worked very hard to avoid
“worldliness.” This central impulse not to be “of the world”
was part of what defined our movement. Some of the
stories from our early history seem almost bizarre, since
one aspect of being separated from the world focused
on extreme plainness of dress (e.g. no neckties for men,
lace collars for women, jewelry for anyone, or even
visible buttons on shirts). I have read diaries of early Free
Methodist female preachers who agonized over the inner
battle to relinquish all desire for “superfluous adornment”
and wear only the plainest clothing.
At another level, however, their lack of conformity to
the world demonstrated heroic courage and faith. The
same women who struggled to surrender to the Lord over
whether to disguise the buttons on their blouses stepped
out boldly to enter taverns and brothels to carry the Good
News and see lives transformed. When people responded
to the message and were converted, our forebears didn’t
leave these infants in the faith to fend for themselves —
they took the risk of opening their homes and welcoming
them in. They formed new converts into groups to grow in
grace and reform their lives. They taught them livelihood
skills and helped them find jobs. They organized inner-city
missions so these new believers could testify to others,
becoming effective evangelists on the mean streets of
Buffalo and Chicago, among other cities.
Addressing a variety of social problems, our forebears
opened orphanages and schools for indigent children
and nursing homes for destitute seniors. They sent
missionaries to India and Africa to carry the gospel and
to begin clinics among people with no access to medicine.
And to demonstrate solidarity with and hospitality to the
poor, Free Methodists required all their church buildings
to be simple and unadorned, with free pews for all.
Their bold, public action sprang from their understanding
that Jesus has sent His followers into the world, just like the
Father had sent Jesus (John 17:18).
What were “sent ones” to do? They took their mandate
for ministry from Jesus’ own “inaugural address” in Luke
4:18–19:
“The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed
me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to
proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight
for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year
of the Lord’s favor.”
They knew that Jesus was reading from Isaiah 61. The
entire context of Isaiah’s prophecy rings out with God’s
hatred of hypocrisy. Isaiah 58:6–7 demonstrates God’s
preferred form of religious observance:
“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the
chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the
oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your
food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer
with shelter — when you see the naked, to clothe them,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?”
Benjamin Titus (B.T.) and Ellen Roberts, our founding
couple, understood the calling of the Free Methodist
Church to be twofold: “To maintain the Bible standard of
Christianity and to preach the gospel to the poor” (fmchr.ch/
populistsaints). To them, the Bible standard of Christianity
involved biblical justice and social reform, “setting the
oppressed free, breaking every yoke,” as embodied earlier
by John Wesley and the Methodist revival in England.
Wesley had written and lived this statement: “A scheme to
reconstruct society which ignores the redemption of the
individual is unthinkable, and a doctrine to save sinning
men, with no aim to transform them into crusaders against
social sin, is equally unthinkable” (fmchr.ch/jwbready).
B. T. Roberts’ critique of the Methodist Episcopal Church,
from which he was eventually expelled, centered on its
conformity to the world. One evidence was its acceptance
of slavery, which he saw as an abomination. Even in the
North, at the time B.T. Roberts spoke out, abolitionism was
unpopular, but he powerfully wrote and preached against
the evil of slavery. He also railed against cold, dead worship
that lacked the enlivening presence of the Spirit of God. He
charged the Methodist Episcopal clergy with dominating
the leadership of the church, giving no voice to laypeople,
who are also called and gifted by the Spirit.
“Their lack
of conformity
to the world
demonstrated
heroic courage
and faith.”
/populistsaints
/populistsaints
/jwbready
/(fmchr.ch
/jwbready)