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As I crossed the boundary of the University designated "free speech" area, there he stood, the object of scorn: the maligned, hated, homophobic bigot. And that's what the Christians thought of him. He wore a dark blue suit and his well-groomed, jet black, slicked back hair shook wildly as the temperature of his words rose. A crowd had gathered, a gapers' block party, not necessarily to listen to him, but rather to gawk at the throwback "hellfire and brimstone preachin' fool."

"What do you think of this?" I asked a few students while working the crowds, transfixed on the traveling side show invading their space. Many students, with well-thought-out certainty revealed a low regard for the "turn back the clock" ignorance of the message, but a high regard for the messenger's courage in the face of constant heckling. Such a postmodern tolerance seemed oddly refreshing.

Joining with the interactive congregants, I chanced a question of my own.

"What would you say to the local campus ministers who stay here after you leave?"

He immediately retorted, "Are you a campus minister here?"

"Yes."

"Which group do you represent?"

"Methodist."

With a heart strangely heated and fire in his eyes he shouted, "College students across this nation are dying. When are you Methodists going to start doing what Wesley did? The answer to your question, sir, is, Do what Wesley did!" He had me.

The fact that he, the street preacher, was doing exactly what Wesley did sent convicting shockwaves down my spineless Methodist torso. He boldly planted himself in the middle of student turf and offered them Christ, preaching under the great cloud of our hero circuit riders. Defining moments in ministry are rare. We need to cherish them, own them, and thank God for beautiful times of burning revelation.

In Mark 4:35, one such moment occurs in the lives of Jesus' disciples. While teaching on the west bank of the Sea of Galilee, Jesus calls to them, "Let's go over to the other side." Jesus and his entourage then leave the safe, conservative, orthodox Jewish-ness of the northern Galilean region where Jesus had become a hometown hero early in his ministry. It was time to go, to move, to take the message to "those people." Who greets them, then, when they arrive on the east bank? A naked, bleeding, screaming, demon- possessed, cemetery-dwelling loner pacing the beach. As the story continues, Jesus exorcises the demons into a herd of pigs, leaving the man "dressed and in his right mind." The visitation and ministry of Jesus to just one crazy man justifies the "mission trip" to the other side.

Most of the students I work with are well-mannered, Spirit-filled believers brought up as good "Methodists." Others actually rival the naked lunatic on the beach. Many are "cutters" (self-inflicted skin-cutting to gain a "high"), addicted, dangerously body pierced, tattooed, isolated, lonely, sexed out, porn-fed, image-worried, media-consumed, cyber-world hypnotized, "it's cool not to care" zombies. All of the latter quite readily respond to anyone who crosses over and risks reaching out to their side of the lake in love. Renewal begins immediately when believers take seriously Jesus' words, "Do not say 'four months more [form a study committee] and then the harvest.' I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest" (John 4:35).

After graduating from seminary, I considered Good News to be “the enemy.” I demonized the leadership, and typically tossed the magazine without ever reading it. And then in 1993, along came the “notorious” issue on Re-Imagining. Something (now recognized as the Holy Spirit) prompted me to open and read. The depth and breadth of coverage was so compelling, it motivated me to reexamine just about everything I’d been taught at school, and it started me on the journey back to my evangelical roots. My life and ministry are richer because of the ministry of Good News. I count Board Chairperson Tom Lambrecht and Jim Heidinger and crew as some of my dearest associates. And I deeply appreciate the work they do to hasten renewal within the UM Church.

Karen Booth
Executive Director
Transforming Congregation

What if we began to commission missionaries to our college campuses, sending "circuit riders" to campuses in desperate need of prayer and Bible study formation, Christian worldview training, and equipping for disciplined living? What if we took the church out of our buildings and started new home fellowships on city turf made up of the lonely, lost, hopeless, broken, disenfranchised, confused, suffering, sick, less fortunate souls?

I attend an exciting new United Methodist church that risked praying a dangerous prayer about five years ago. We prayed, "Lord, show us and lead us to the people nobody else wants." God revealed to our pastor a vision of the millions of people who every week declare at a twelve step meeting that they have an addiction they can't handle on their own. They share about problems they can't handle and look for spiritual answers while turning their lives over to a "higher power."

Unfortunately, the church, for the most part, sits on the bank of the lake and never engages these souls seeking recovery and transformation. What would happen if we built bridges with these recovery communities, transforming our places of worship into safe places to share? What if we attempted to recover Wesley's high accountability small group paradigm which twelve step groups engage in already?

In other words, what if we took the advice of an old-fashioned street preacher to actually "do what Wesley did?"

Bill Hughes is the director of the Wesley Foundation on the campus of the University of Kentucky.

Future hope found in rich past
By Jorge Acevedo

In the summer of 2005, my wife Cheryl and I were standing in John Wesley's New Room in Bristol, England. We were serving as hosts for four other Florida United Methodist pastors and their spouses. The Florida Conference is blessed to have The Mr. and Mrs. B.W. Simpkins Wesley Study Retreat. Because of the benevolence of the Simpkins family, Florida United Methodist pastors can apply to travel to England and trace the life of the Wesleys from Epworth to Bristol to Oxford and finally to London. The hope of the Simpkins family is that the retreat will spark the fire of Wesleyan revival in the hearts of Florida United Methodist clergy.

The New Room served the Wesleys and the early Methodist movement as a meetinghouse and preacher's overnight accommodations. The curator dressed in full attire gave us a first person monologue from John Wesley about the use of this historic building. Following his speech, a time of questions and answers ensued. Remaining in first person, our curator politely answered our questions.

Betsy Ouellette, one of our clergy on the retreat asked, "Were these pews here during your time?" Betsy was referring to the pews that were permanently affixed to the floor of the New Room. The curator responded "Oh no! In my time we used wooden chairs or benches so that after our services we could push them to the corners of the room and use it for a medical clinic or a food ministry."

With these words, I began to softly weep. There were two reasons for my tears. First, it was because just a few years earlier, I had fought a "pews versus chairs" battle at Grace Church in Cape Coral. We were exploding and out of seats in our traditional sanctuary. For less than $6000 we could seat another 150 people in the same amount of space. A few of our diehards vehemently fought our leaders and me on this strategic, evangelistic move. Sitting in Bristol in the New Room I felt vindicated. I heard the whisper of the Holy Spirit say, "Jorge, you are standing in the stream of your tradition. Well done!"

I also wept because the church that nurtured me in the Christian faith had wandered so far from her roots. Our movement that began with the hallmarks of personal piety and social holiness has drifted. The lost were not being found. The poor were not being cared for. John Wesley's famous quote resonated through my head as I wept in the New Room: "I am not afraid that the people called Methodists should ever cease to exist either in Europe or America. But I am afraid lest they should only exist as a dead sect, having the form of religion without the power. And this undoubtedly will be the case unless they hold fast to both the doctrine, spirit, and discipline with which they first set out."

Our spiritual father's fear has become a reality in most places in Europe and America that bear the name "Methodist."

I believe our hope in the United Methodist Church can be found in our return to the New Room. There John Wesley led people with a God-sized vision to reform the nations with a message of personal faith in Jesus Christ expressed in passionate social holiness. They would preach the Word, train lay preachers, feed the poor, heal the sick, and send out a missionary movement. Early Methodists would never have sunk to petty, irrelevant conversations about pews or chairs, worship styles or committee structures. They had much more important Kingdom work to do. Our future hope is found in our rich past.

Jorge Acevedo is the lead pastor of Grace Church with campuses in Cape Coral, Olga-Fort Myers Shores, and North Fort Myers. www.egracechurch.com.

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Do what Wesley did! By Bill Hughes

Future hope found in rich past By Jorge Acevedo

Do what Wesley did!
By Bill Hughes

Future hope found in rich past
By Jorge Acevedo