If you Google the words "Shouting Methodist," you'll discover that the phrase is not an oxymoron.

Instead, you'll read these words in the first article:

One name commonly applied to early nineteenth century Methodists was "shouting Methodists" - a name Methodists were glad to accept and make their own. What was meant by the term, "shouting Methodists"?

At the very least, it meant that Methodists were a noisy lot, interrupting the preacher with ejaculations of "Praise the Lord," "Hallelujah," and "Amen." Alexander Campbell declared that the Methodist church could not live without her cries of "Glory! Glory! Glory!" And he reported that "her periodical Amens dispossess demons, storm heaven, shut the gates of hell, and drive Satan from the camp."

Singing and clapping, groaning and crying, praying and exhorting, contributed to the din. In one Methodist hymn book, dated 1807, the initial impression of a convert is reported:

It is clear that "shout" was a prominent part of the Methodist vocabulary. Nowhere is this more evident than in the refrains of their spiritual songs. "Shout, shout, we're gaining ground," they sang. "We'll shout old Satan's kingdom down." The word would appear in casual conversations. An aged person, for example, would rejoice at being still able "to shout," and a death would be recorded: "She went off shouting."
 
What did it mean to "shout"? "Shouting" was never mere noise. "Shouting" was neither preaching not exhorting. Exhorting was a noisy performance, but the word had a technical meaning that was not broad enough to include even the "action sermon." Nor was "shouting" praying, not even when praying became a din as a congregation sought to "pray down" a sinner or to contend in prayer for the souls of the penitent.

"Shouting" was praise or, as it was often called, rejoicing. Both its practice, including the clapping of hands and its meaning was partly shaped by Old Testament texts (for example, Joshua 6:5-20; 1 Samuel 4:5-7; Psalm 32:11; Isaiah 42: 11-13). Initially, "shouting" was probably no more than uttering ejaculations of praise. But it quickly became, in addition to these expressions, a type of singing, a type of song, a "shout song," or just a "shout."

If a "shout" was an expression of praise and a song of rejoicing, it also became the name of a religious service, a service of praise, a praise meeting. People spoke of going to a "preaching," of going to a "class meeting," and of going to a "shout", a praise meeting. "When we get home," they sang, "we'll have a shout in glory."


So that's how we got started.  But what happened?  We are now in a Methodist era in which we shout AT each other, as it seems we long ago lost the collective ability to shout TO the Lord.

What if we dropped some of our liturgical legalism and started bringing the shout back, one congregation at a time?

 

We've all had relationships that are toxic, haven't we?

Romantic relationships. Family relationships. Work relationships. Even church relationships.  Those connections that seem to bring out the worst in us.  And sometimes we bring out the worst in them.

Kind of like this one from Scripture . . . and from Hollywood:


So what does it look like for those relationships to be washed?

That's what we'll be talking about on this Memorial Day weekend at Good Shepherd.

Sunday.

8:30.  10.  11:30. 

One of the best things I have learned in recent months is the concept of translating the cause.

I gleaned these ideas from our friends at Newell & Associates and their High Impact Volunteer Training.

It's not quantum physics, but it is a way of inviting people into ministry that I had never considered before.  It may be old hat to you but it's revelatory to me.

Anyway, here's how it works.

At Good Shepherd, the cause is inviting all people into a living relationship with Jesus Christ.  We evaluate everything we do through the lens of that mission.  We repeat it, we write it, we bleed it, and one of these days, we might even sing it.

To translate THAT cause means that we re-frame every single volunteer ministry in terms of how it enables our church to live into that mission.

Nursery volunteers, for example, don't simply rock babies and change diapers and take up a spot in our monthly slate; they are inviting nervous parents into a living relationship with Jesus Christ by allowing them to sit in the Worship Center knowing their newborn is safe, secure, and clean.

Guitarists don't simply play a cool solo on a great song; they invite all worshipers into a living relationship with Jesus Christ by creating an environment in which voices sing and spirits soar.

Greeters don't merely hand out name tags and bulletins; they invite all first time guests into a living relationship with Jesus Christ by being that first point of contact for someone who wasn't sure they could walk through the doors of a church after 30 years away.

So we no longer say to volunteers:  Thank you for serving today.

We instead say:  I thank God for the way you helped people know more about a living relationship with Jesus Christ.  

Because the remarkable people who make up Good Shepherd would much rather contribute to a cause than fill in a spot on a list.