The Wesleyan Mutt
There is nothing better than the love of a crossbred dog. A mutt, a pooch, a mongrel—whatever you call it. Purebred dogs have their charms but also their particularities, not to mention their cost. Meanwhile, mutts don't pretend to be something they're not, and instead make very clear their mixed genetics. A couple of ears from here, a snout from there, a tail from who knows where. And so, without any pretension, they live full of love.
This type of dog makes us think of the mixed pedigree of Wesleyanism. We often think of John Wesley as a full-blooded Anglican, but his own parents grew up in homes of "dissenters," that is, people who obtained special permission to live their faith apart from the Church of England. They became Anglicans later, but John's childhood was marked by these alternative Christian currents. As a college student and seminarian, Wesley was immersed in the writings of the Apostolic Fathers and their articulation of the classical faith of the church. But he was also enchanted by the literature on holiness, especially by medieval and Anglican authors. After his missionary trip to the colony of Georgia, his growing friendship with the Moravians led him to Germany to study more about their ideas on the assurance of salvation and the role of the Holy Spirit in believers. He would come to reject certain elements of this pietism, but it marked him deeply in other ways. Regarding the eternal debate between faith and works, Wesley came to emphasize so greatly (as did Paul and Jesus) the role of works as necessary companions to our salvation, that many "Protestants" would not recognize him. And let us not forget to add a bit of the French mysticism of Jeanne (Madam) Guyon, with her ever-appealing vision of the inner life of a believer close to Christ.
This portrait of Wesley is much more diverse than we might have thought, and that's just the theological part. His own ministry practices also had diverse roots, along with novel experiences that influenced him. Preaching outdoors, letting female leaders teach, organizing groups of people for mutual growth — all these activities broke with the order of the Anglican Church of his day. In the end, Wesley winds up with the brains of a Catholic, the heart of a Pietist, and the lungs of a Pentecostal, all with hands dedicated to the service of God and neighbor.
So perhaps there is no such thing as "pure Wesleyanism," because Wesley himself was not looking for any breed of ideological purity. He was a minister who was both conservative and innovative. He would defend tooth and nail the classic truths of the Christian Church, but with equal enthusiasm he would toss out the window some practice or custom that prevented him from living God's call in his life. In a letter dated April 6, 1761, he wrote, “I would observe every point of order, except where the salvation of souls is at stake. There I prefer the end before the means.” And he was willing to use any means, wherever they came from. Despite having such a clear focus, he had his eyes and arms wide open for any help from any side.
This is a trait of the Wesleyan spirit that we must imitate: not some supposed doctrinal purity, but the certainty that mixing with other types of Christians will not defile us. We today, heirs to a greater or lesser degree of this witness, obviously have our own set of influences on our Wesleyan identity. We must analyze which ones distract or deceive us, which ones strengthen and inspire us, and then at times modify our makeup. The mutt does not have the chance to choose his lineage, and in that we have the advantage. But the mutt does have a permanent lesson for us: approach everyone with a true smile and a spirit of love.
