A RESPONSE TO HAROLD BURGESS
by
Daniel N. Berg
The fundamental problem for Wesleyan ministry is really no different than for any other
system of belief that invokes action. Theory and practice, doxis and praxis, may be
a simple way to reduce the problem but it is the problem and it is no simple problem. In
the setting of the church the problem is presumed to divide theology and ministry, and
practically, too often does.
Theology is a rational function. It has to do with knowing. It has to do with the head.
Ministry requires the affective and behavioral dimensions of human existence. In a world
that can live neither with nor without its inheritance from rationalism, the division
between theology and ministry in the church sounds like a philosophical echo of questions
about the relationship between the mind and the body and the is and the ought.
No general announcement of the resolution of these issues in Western intellectual
tradition is on the horizon, Process Thought notwithstanding. Furthermore, it is the
consistent practice of those who think about the issue to seek for resolution by
redefinition. The result is that the priority of head to heart is reasserted and the
division is magnified.
From the other side of the division comes the worthy complaint that to wait until the
head has its act together is to wait forever. What people are feeling and doing often
cannot wait for some theological laboratory to run its tests. The people of God honor the
judge and the prophet as well as the wise man. Charismata is as Biblical as sophia.
Charismata is like pitch. It is sticky, picks up any loose dirt, and spreads with a touch.
But it can also plug knotholes and keep the ark afloat.
The issue will only be more thoroughly pressed if our attempts at resolution involve
only redefinition on the one hand and virtual ignoring of the issue on the other. We need
another mode, another method to work with the problem. The whole problem involves the
whole person, head and heart and hands.
This paper, which we have just heard, is a contribution to the continuing discussion
about this division. In a significant footnote Mr. Burgess finds a lame man at the door of
our pedagogical temples. "Perhaps," he says, "we tend to preserve this
disjunction between theology and practice by the way we organize the learning experience
of ministry students, i.e., theology is commonly taught as a classical discipline,
ministry as a practical one." But again, the attempt to resolve the problem directs
itself toward redefinition. And we cannot succeed at simply defining the problem away.
Nor is that really the intent of this paper overall. The intent of the paper is to
direct us first to more critical perception of the linkage between a theology which is
espoused and actual practices of ministry; and secondly, to establish a standpoint for
evaluating the results of ministry. These two objectives are to be accomplished in a
context of self-conscious Wesleyanism.
With regard to the first objective the author assures us that the options for
establishing the linkage between theology and ministry are more articulate if not actually
more numerous in our own time than in Wesley's. Names such as Freud and Jung suggest the
theoretical distance between Wesley and us.
Because I think rather concretely, I looked for examples in which present Wesleyans are
enlarging the breach between theology espoused and ministry practiced. I think I found one
in the author's suggestion that we are too Rogerian. I am frankly not positive what that
means. At first I thought it meant that we are too non-directive in our inculcation of
theory and our encouragement to practice. But to correct that would be to tend in the
direction of the very scholasticism that is condemned in the next several paragraphs. So I
rejected that meaning. I decided that it must mean that we anticipate the healing of the
soul from within, that the natural tendency of the human is to sound theology and true
ministry and the role of the spiritual helper is to help the soul discover its own natural
ability. Here is certainly a serious critique, a failure of theological nerve, and the
grounds for a counterproductive ministry. Understood thus, our Rogerian tendencies are a
good example of the distance between theology systematic and theology pastoral.
With regard to the second objective, I naturally wanted the author not just to say that
we ought to establish a standpoint for evaluating the results of ministry, but to go right
ahead and establish it. He did us the negating service of criticizing lip-service theology
that considers its task complete once creedal words have been hung in the air. And there
is the abstract "benchmark" statement drawn from the Book of Discipline of the
United Methodist Church that . . . "the only infallible proof of a true church of
Christ is its ability to seek and to save the lost, to disseminate the Pentecostal spirit
and life, to spread scriptural holiness, and to transform all peoples and nations through
the gospel of Christ." But the task is surely to press beyond the negative and/or the
abstract and run up some flags emblazoned with standards concrete enough to be evaluated.
This the author believes Wesley succeeded in doing. The standards may not be clear now.
But the mutual accountability of theology to ministry and ministry to theology did seem to
work in Wesley's life.
Finally, it is to be noted that these two objectives are to be achieved in the context
of a self-conscious Wesleyanism. The frequent attempts to invoke Wesley as one who
accomplished both the objectives desired by this paper can be considered only mildly
successful for the reason that neither is dealt with in a clear and direct way by Wesley
himself. The author confesses as much with regard to the second objective where he says
(in a footnote) that "it would be difficult to prove that Wesley employed a formal
hypothesis-making and testing procedure." What the author does help us to see is that
Wesley might more properly be viewed as a model than a mentor. That he manages to unite
theology and ministry is his major contribution. How he manages to unite theology and
ministry remains for his followers to articulate and emulate.
That he was able to hold his theology accountable to his ministry and his ministry to
his theology is important in the history of the Christian faith. How he did this is
important right now.
There are certain standards bequeathed to us from Wesley that can give us guidance.
They are not necessarily the standards that we most often admire in the churches of
Wesley, either doctrinal or behavioral. With reflection and maturity, the doctrinal and
behavioral standards are seen to be neither the most noble nor the most interesting
inheritances. Rather the standards by which Wesley moves from question to answer, or, more
practically from problem to resolution, appears to be far more interesting, and
informative.
For example, it is a truism among Wesleyan scholars that Wesley was quite at home with
the quadrilateral of theological authority propounded in the Anglican church. Debate may
flourish about the degree of primacy accorded faith over reason in Wesley but reason
remains valued, trusted, invoked. "It is a fundamental principle with us that to
renounce reason is to renounce religion, that religion and reason go hand in hand, and
that all irrational religion is false religion" (Letter to Dr. Rutherforth, Letters
V, 364). Like emphasis could be adduced from his writings to support as well experience,
tradition and the Scripture as sources of authority for theology. This coupling of
experience especially with scripture or reason or tradition creates a sense of risk for
both theology and ministry. A Wesleyan theology demands the risk and a Wesleyan ministry
will bear it. It is a methodological standard and a guarantee that Doctrine and service
belong together.
There are other standards of Wesleyan theology that can only be understood in the
practice of people influenced by it. For example, a Wesleyan ministry is more concerned to
see people "converted" than to see them "get saved." Wesleyanism
appreciates the theological categories which accompany conversion that are common to
evangelicalism in general. But emphasis creates a degree of difference. Two illustrations
might help. The Wesleyan, along with other evangelicals, sees the experience of conversion
as instantaneous, supernatural, and sometimes accompanied by tremendous emotional
upheaval. Wesley's own experience of this in meetings where he preached occasioned at
least one letter in which he deals with the relationship between emotional
"peaking" and conversion. He simply acknowledges that such emotion whether
silent and brooding or noisy and frenetic accompanies conversion. ". . . What
influence sudden and sharp awakenings may have upon the body I pretend not to
explain" (Works, I, 208). And, in fact, he could leave his reader wondering if such
emotional upheaval is a product of the piercing of the sword of the spirit or the devil's
work of distraction. What he does not leave his reader wondering about is the nature of
the association of high emotion with true conversion. "The merciful issue of these
conflicts in the conversion of the persons thus affected, is the main thing" (loc.
cit.). Thus emotion is devalued. And the conversion, though perhaps accompanied by
emotion, is not verified by emotion but by change. "The influence on some of these
(people thus affected), like a landflood, dries up; we hear of no change wrought: But in
others it appears in the fruits of righteousness, and the tract of a holy conversation
(loc. cit.). These words of Wesley make it clear that the emphasis in a Wesleyan ministry
must be entirely upon the fact of conversion and not upon the circumstances of conversion.
And the fact of conversion manifests itself in positive change subsequently observed.
A second illustration of the Wesleyan interest in conversion rather than getting people
saved may be seen in Wesley's understanding of assurance. That conversion is accompanied
by a profound assurance for the convert many evangelicals would readily affirm. Wesley,
however, is careful to distinguish in good Arminian fashion, that it is the assurance of
present pardon and not the assurance of final perseverance and salvation that the convert
receives (Works, I, 160, and IX, 32). Final salvation is the goal toward which conversion
turns us. Between conversion and final salvation lies the project of love perfected.
The point of all this is that while the Wesleyan ministry identifies with the
theological language of evangelicalism generally, a closer examination reveals that there
are significant emphases that actually distinguish the Wesleyan idea of
"conversion" from "being saved." A Wesleyan ministry understands the
supernatural, emotional, instantaneous nature of conversion. A Wesleyan ministry
understands assurance and its place in conversion. But this understanding, this theology,
is nuanced in quite a different way from the rest of evangelicalism because of its demand
for evidence in practice. The instant of conversion is not the objective of a Wesleyan
evangelistic ministry because conversion is not simply a juridical and irrevocable
adjustment of eternal destiny. The work of God for us which produces conversion is not an
end in itself. The objective of the work of God for us is to commence His work in us. A
Wesleyan ministry does not excite to "getting saved." Theologically and
practically, a Wesleyan ministry can only understand conversion.
We ought to note along the way that Wesley demurred at using the word
"conversion" because it is 90 "rarely used in the New Testament." That
consideration gives an air of the hypothetical to all we have been saying about setting a
standard for evaluating a Wesleyan ministry. But it is hypothetical only in the sense that
Wesley never addressed the issues precisely as they are raised for us.
This consideration bears especially upon a second standard of a Wesleyan ministry which
I would like to project. Howard Snyder has done a great deal of the groundwork for setting
this standard. He reminds us that Wesley's view of ministry may be described as
charismatic. While I do not wish to disagree that Wesley's view of ministry is something
other than strictly institutional I would feel uneasy with a wholesale description of
Wesley's view of the ministry as charismatic. In fact, I would want to argue that apart
from suggesting that Wesley softens the institutionalism ordinary in his day and to his
office in the church, the word charismatic obscures rather badly Wesley's view of
ministry. The reason is that Wesley is so much more articulate in both theory and practice
about spiritual discipline and so incomplete in his descriptions of the scriptural basis,
history and function of spiritual gifts. In short, the second standard of a Wesleyan
ministry is a preference for spiritual disciplines above spiritual gifts.
The structure with which John Wesley endowed the institution that was named in derision
of that structure may be sufficient to remind us of the surpassing value placed upon the
orderly transference between theology and practice. By contrast, as Howard Snyder points
out, Wesley's attempt to distinguish between ordinary and extraordinary spiritual gifts
simply bequeaths a confusion to Wesley's heirs. Wesley's judgment that the extraordinary
gifts have not operated in the church from the fourth century to the present, for whatever
reason, makes it impossible to speak meaningfully of him as charismatically inclined in
the sense of modern hard-core charismatic theology. Even a soft-core charismatic interest
suffers when Wesley balances against the extraordinary gifts of the spirit what he calls
the ordinary fruits of the spirit ( Works, V, 38) in his sermon on "Scriptural
Christianity" and what he calls "the ordinary gifts of the Holy Ghost" in
his sermon "The More Excellent Way" (Works VII, 27). These "ordinary"
gifts include:
1) "convincing speech, " in order to "sound the unbelieving heart;"
2) "persuasion" to move the affections, as well as enlighten the
understanding. "
3) Knowledge both of the word and of the works of God, whether of providence or grace.
4) faith . . . which goes far beyond the power of natural causes.
"We may desire," he continues, "whatever would enable us, as we have
opportunity, to be useful wherever we are." The element of the supernatural is not
essential here. Furthermore, the recipient is in no sense passive and a gift simply
visited upon him or her. These "ordinary gifts" could be attributed to talents
quite as readily as to charismata.
But the really convincing argument that spiritual disciplines are more highly valued
than spiritual gifts in a Wesleyan ministry is the dramatic shift in this very sermon from
a rather cursory examination of spiritual gifts which concludes in a paean of praise to
love in the style of I Corinthians 13 to a full-bodied presentation of the disciplines of
holiness.
But at present I would take a different view of the text, (I Corinthians 12:31) and
point out a "more excellent way" in another sense. It is the observation of an
ancient writer, that there have been from the beginning two orders of Christians. The one
lived an innocent life, conforming in all things, not sinful, to the customs and fashions
of the world; doing many good works, abstaining from gross evils, and attending the
ordinances of God. They endeavoured, in general, to have a conscience void of offence in
the behaviour, but did not aim at any particular strictness, being in most things like
their neighbours. The other Christians not only abstained from all appearance of evil,
were zealous of good works in every kind, and attended all the ordinances of God, but
likewise used all diligence to attain the whole mind that was in Christ, and laboured to
walk, in every point, as their beloved Master. In order to this, they walked in a constant
course of universal self-denial, trampling on every pleasure which they were not divinely
conscious prepared them for taking pleasure in God. They took up their cross daily. They
strove, they agonized without intermission, to enter in at the strait gate. This one thing
they did, they spared no pains to arrive at the summit of Christian holiness;
"leaving the first principles of the doctrine of Christ, to go on to
perfection;" to "know all that love of God which passeth knowledge, and to be
filled with all the fullness of God."
The quotation could be extended yet several paragraphs as Wesley works out in
considerable detail the kinds of disciplines that will characterize the quest for
holiness.
If these two standards are typical of Wesley and a Wesleyan ministry it is because they
view man as an active participant in both his spiritual birth and nurture. The passivity
implied in being saved and in popular notions of charismata are simply not characteristic
of Wesley.
Harold Burgess began his paper with a story about his students. Let me conclude with a
story about one of mine. As a Master's level student, he was very unhappy about the C he
received on his major paper in a seminar on theology. He is a fine fellow and I suppose I
must tell you that he is a firm pentecostal. When his understandable wrath had subsided at
the grade he had received he explained that he was simply a preacher, that he hadn't an
analytical mind and that he just "didn't have the gift of academic writing."
What could I say? I have no experience of academic writing as a gift. I know it only as a
discipline.
If theology and ministry are ever to be united, the proof will appear in the ability to
activate the people of God in quest of their own spiritual well-being and that of others.
That Wesley succeeded at this will continue to fascinate us. How Wesley succeeded at this
will continue to challenge us.
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