On Methodism, II
How I became a Methodist and why I have grown to love this tradition
This substack is a continuation of the first article I wrote on this topic, which you will want to read before reading this one. You can find part one here.
I grew up in a non-denominational megachurch that fit perfectly into the “seeker sensitive” model of church seen in the 1990’s/2000’s. Now, as much as I like to make fun of non-denominational Christianity, especially the “seeker sensitive” model of it, they are incredible at introducing people to Jesus. This particular church did just that for me, and although I would go on to have a radical encounter with Jesus elsewhere and end up called to another part of the body of Christ, that does not discredit the seeds planted in my life through this church during my childhood and adolescence. Although some seeds were planted through the non-denominational, “seeker sensitive” model of Christianity, that model of church and my distaste for it is not what drew me to Methodism.
Shortly after I graduated high school, I began attending a large Assemblies of God church where I made relationships with other Christians that I still have to this day. These relationships not only played instrumental roles in leading me to my first real, radical encounter with Christ, but they were also the first Christian friends (excluding my wife, girlfriend at the time) I ever had. I attended a camp with this church and met Jesus one night, and the next night (according to Pentecostals), I exhibited evidence of it. This encounter I had with God came immediately after wrestling with the concept of God, His existence, His goodness, His sovereignty, and many other theological conundrums I found myself in. God encountered me in a way that superseded my intellect, so that by believing, I might actually begin to see.[1] This moment marked the beginning of my lifelong journey of faith seeking understanding, which summarizes what I have devoted my life to. This was also the first time I had genuinely experienced the presence of God in a transformative way, and due to the denomination I was a part of, I kept seeking those experiences as I began ministry school. I went to an Assemblies of God school for my undergrad partially because that is where the Lord led me, but also because I assumed that since I had encountered the presence of God already in the AG, I would encounter Him more the further I pressed into it. Unfortunately, I flew too close to the sun. Like many Pentecostal denominations, upon close examination and experience of their theological convictions as well as their ecclesiology and polity, I realized that I had no home there. I am grateful for the education I received as well as the relationships I made during my time as a Pentecostal, and this is by no means a diss toward Pentecostalism; however, I found it to be theologically shallow with poor ecclesiology and polity, and what I went there looking for, which was the presence of God, I seldom could find. Although Methodism (not the current UMC, the tradition of Methodism itself) is known for outpourings of the Holy Spirit and it has far better theological depth, ecclesiology, and polity, these things are not what drew me to Methodism.
Upon the theological frustrations I experienced in the Pentecostal world, my insatiable hunger for a faith that seeks understanding, and my longing to serve the Church, I did what any reasonable young man does: I became a Calvinist. During this season of my life, I attended some Reformed churches, but I mostly “church-hopped” due to the pain I had experienced in my previous church/denomination. My draw to Calvinism and the Reformed tradition as a whole was quite simple: they were serious about Scripture, they had robust systematic theology stemming all the way back to Calvin himself (who I am still a big fan of, just not so much of those who bear his name today), and the real Calvinists were not Low-Church[2] as was most of the Christianity I had experienced thus far. Although I was hurt by the Church, I began to fall in love with Her through the formation I received from the Reformed tradition. Although they can be jerks sometimes, Calvinists (usually) have a deep devotion to the Church, the Scriptures, and systematic theology, which is what drew me and kept me there for a couple of years. During these couple of years, due to the mistreatment I saw in prior denominations, I also became a cessationist. I believed the Holy Spirit is God and is necessary for the New Birth, but that was about it. His person, work, fruit, and gifts? I could not stand any of that Pentecostal rubbish at that point in my life (thank God for healing and reconciliation). The Reformed tradition is by no means perfect, and I began to take notice of that. I saw the chasm of differences between those who call themselves Calvinists, from Reformed Baptists to Presbyterians, and upon comparing them to the works of Calvin himself, it pushed me further into the history of the Church. I had always loved St. Augustine of Hippo, but it was during my time in seminary, which I began around this time in my life, that St. Augustine became my best friend. Not only did I, by God’s providence (predestination, one could say…), end up attending a Methodist seminary, but near the end of my time as a Calvinist, I began attending the church that I am on staff at now, which is also Methodist. The Holy Spirit, through the works of St. Augustine, as well as the relationships with professors at seminary, relationships here at Stillwater, and the discipleship of the faithful and (probably) entirely sanctified Pastor Rob Ulmer, brought me out of Calvinism and into Methodism.
For my readers who are members of the “one true church,” which is somehow… two churches: Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, don’t worry, I did not forget you. During my time in seminary, as I began to devote myself to the writings of St. Augustine and the Church Fathers,[3] I was drawn to Roman Catholicism. This is partially due to one of my professors, who helped me to see the beauty in the traditions of the Roman Catholic Church and articulated it to me in a way that I had never heard before. He was like my St. Ambrose, if I might be so bold as to compare myself to St. Augustine for this analogy (not that I can even hold a candle to him). I skimmed the Catechism of the Catholic Church and read a few beginner’s books for those interested in this beautiful tradition. Despite my growth in love for Catholicism, which remains with me, there were some theological disagreements I had that would put me outside the lines of becoming Roman Catholic. During this process of exploring their beliefs and even my own, I became convinced that true, historical Methodism is what Roman Catholicism should have been “reformed” into after the Protestant Reformation. I know how bold a claim that is, so maybe I will write more on that in the future. But for now, while my love for that tradition and its members remains, I knew I had no theological or ecclesial home there. Finally, in January of 2025, I went on a spiritual pilgrimage to Cyprus and was immersed in all things Orthodoxy for a week. I am unashamed to state that it was one of the best weeks of my life. Leading up to that trip, my exploration of Catholicism piqued my interest in Orthodoxy. I had read The Way of the Pilgrim, parts of The Philokalia, and had begun incorporating the Jesus Prayer into my devotional life. I can confidently say that God was up to something amazing during that season of my life, and He brought me to Cyprus as icing on the cake. I had several profound, captivating, and life-changing encounters with God on that trip through immersion in the Orthodox tradition. One of them is permanently marked on my right arm for life, if that gives you an idea of how significant these encounters were for me. Once I got back, I was enamored with Orthodoxy for several months, and it is probably the tradition of Christianity that I most closely align with outside of where I have found my home in Methodism. Something that I loved the most about Catholicism and Orthodoxy is their focus on the inner life and holiness through the sacraments. Although Methodism certainly has tradition, is (usually) High-Church, and is focused on the inner life and holiness through the sacraments, these things are not what ultimately drew me to Methodism.
Although “seeker sensitive” Methodist churches exist, that is not what drew me to this tradition. Although God manifests His presence in Methodist congregations and gatherings, and has done so throughout the history of Methodism, that is not what drew me to Methodism. Although there are a few great systematic theologians who have come from the Methodist tradition, and there are certainly Methodists who are cessationists, neither of those things drew me to Methodism. Although there is beauty and tradition within the history and practice of Methodism, those things are not what drew me to Methodism. Finally, although Methodism places a massive focus on the inner life and holiness through the sacraments, these things were not what drew me to Methodism. What drew me to Methodism was God’s providence to administer specific grace to me that I needed, not that I wanted. What drew me to Methodism is the same thing that initially drew me to Christ: the love and grace of God encountered me in a way that surpassed my intellect and convinced me to use my intellect to understand my newfound faith, in this case, newfound tradition. Several years in, I am still learning the fullness of what it means to be a Methodist, and I know I have a long road ahead. I am still connecting Wesley to the Early Church and seeking understanding for how they speak to my faith and to the Church today. God knew that Methodism was not the tradition that I wanted, but rather it was the one I needed. I have made some of the most life-changing relationships because of Methodism, seen and participated in some of the most beautiful ministry in Methodism, and been transformed the most through the robust essentials of Methodism: Scriptural and social holiness which leads to entire sanctification, the sacramental life of the Church, and the emphasis on the person, work, fruit, and gifts of the Holy Spirit for both life and ministry. Now, in my typical fashion, allow me to conclude this article with the help of my ancient best friend, St. Augustine of Hippo.
My journey to and even in Methodism thus far has been much like an analogy that St. Augustine uses in his work On Baptism Against the Donatists. St. Augustine’s purpose for this analogy is slightly different than mine, but the truth within the analogy is the same. In this analogy, a man with a mortal wound is brought to a doctor by friends. The doctor immediately begins to address the mortal wound, and as he does, his friends would not foolishly ask, “But what about his healthy limbs? Can they not offer any assistance in saving his life?” They would not ask this because they entrust their friend and his wound to the doctor. Nor would the friends ask the doctor to apply all the healing practices to the healthy limbs as well, for the healthy limbs in this case do not need healing. Rather, the friends trust the doctor to do what only the doctor can do: save the life of their friend by addressing the mortal wound on his limb. In this analogy for St. Augustine, the mortal wound is schism.[4] For me, the mortal wound is always what is broken beyond human repair, especially what is beyond self-repair, within me. God is the doctor, and I am convinced that the friends are the relationships and spiritual family that I have made within Methodism. The Methodists, and the tradition of Methodism as a whole, have seen what is healthy and good in me and have not sought to platform the good, but rather to bring healing to the parts of me that were mortally wounded. The relationships and spiritual family that I have been blessed with within Methodism have invested in me, have walked with me through some of the hardest moments of my life, have stood by me when I made some of the dumbest decisions of my life, and have watched over me in love the entirety of our relationship: because that is what Methodists are called to do. I am not saying that this does not exist in other Christian traditions; I have seen it elsewhere. However, I have only experienced it for myself within Methodism. When I thought I needed to lead, I was told by Methodists who loved me that I really needed to serve. When I thought I needed to dive deeper into systematic theology, I was encouraged by Methodists to dive deeper into the parts of my faith that have grown apostate. When I was operating out of a wound when it came to my pneumatology,[5] I was shown by Methodists what biblical, orthodox, and traditional pneumatology looks like. When I was tempted to lean into what I have the propensity to be prideful about in my gifts, I was guided by Methodists to seek humility and faithfulness, even if it means never using my gifts. When I thought I needed more head knowledge, I was loved extravagantly by Methodists in a way that connected my hardened heart to my overactive brain, so that they might work together rather than in opposition to one another. God, the Great Physician, knows exactly what I need, when I need it, and provides His love and grace, other Methodists, and the tradition of Methodism to meet my needs according to His good and perfect will. I am far from entire sanctification, but I know that if I ever reach it on this side of glory, it will be because of the love and grace of God, the tradition of Methodism, and the love of other Methodists.
[1] John 20:29
[2] Low-Church is a term used to describe Christian denominations such as Pentecostals, Non-Denominational, Baptist, etc. who typically do not have much tradition, liturgy, or a focus on the sacraments in their ecclesiology. High-Church would describe the opposite, so denominations like Catholicism, Orthodoxy, Anglicanism, as well as some Methodists, Presbyterians, and Lutherans.
[3] In case you may not know, the Church Fathers are saints of the first ~700 years of the Church who were disciples of the disciples of Christ, were influential for the Church during those times and even today and were champions of orthodoxy.
[4] St. Augustine of Hippo, On Baptism Against the Donatists (Aeterna Press, 2014), 1.8.
[5] Pneumatology is the study and understanding of the person, work, fruit, and gifts of the Holy Spirit.