08/14/2026
How Do We Define Ourselves as Global Methodists?
I have been thinking a great deal about what it means for us to call ourselves Global Methodists.
I hope we will never define ourselves primarily by what we left, what denomination we are not, or even by a list of things we believe we have gotten right.
Sound doctrine matters. Baptism matters. The sacraments matter. Holy living matters. But none of these were ever intended to become fig leaves behind which we hide an unchanged heart.
Human beings have been sewing fig leaves since Genesis.
We want something we can hold up before God and say, “See? This proves I belong.”
Our doctrine can become a fig leaf.
Our denomination can become a fig leaf.
Our baptism can become a fig leaf.
Our traditions can become fig leaves.
Even our confidence that we are the faithful ones can become a fig leaf.
Jesus repeatedly confronted this kind of religiosity.
The Pharisees were concerned that His disciples had not properly washed their hands before eating. Jesus redirected the entire conversation to the heart. What ultimately defiles us is not what goes into the stomach, but what comes out of an unchanged heart.
Then comes the Canaanite woman.
She has no religious résumé to present. No claim of deserving anything. She simply cries:
“Lord, help me.”
And Jesus says, “Great is your faith.”
Think also of the thief on the cross.
He had no opportunity to be baptized, receive Communion, join the right denomination, complete a discipleship course, straighten out his life, or accumulate a record of good works.
His hands were empty.
All he could say was:
“Jesus, remember me.”
And Jesus received him.
That ought to make all of us very careful about constructing religious hurdles that Christ Himself did not require before extending His mercy.
Jesus did not tell us to seek first better fig leaves. Jesus did not tell us to seek first love as a feeling, peace as comfort, wealth as security, status as significance, or happiness as our highest goal. He told us to seek first the Kingdom.
He said:
“Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness.”
Perhaps we have sometimes turned that around. Instead of seeking the Kingdom, we have filled our hands with religious things that reassure us that we are righteous enough.
But our righteousness is not the key to heaven.
Our denomination is not the key.
Our baptism is not the key.
Our theological precision is not the key.
Our good works are not the key.
Christ is.
And this is not foreign to Methodism. It is very close to the heart of John Wesley's vision.
Wesley did not set out merely to make people more religious. He preached the new birth. He went beyond the comfortable walls of the established church to miners, laborers, prisoners, the poor, and people who often believed the Church had little interest in them.
His confidence was that the grace of Jesus Christ could change the human heart.
And changed hearts would produce changed lives.
Changed hearts change marriages.
Changed hearts change families.
Changed hearts change churches.
Changed hearts change communities.
That is why early Methodism spoke of spreading scriptural holiness.
Holiness was never supposed to mean putting on enough religious clothing that nobody could see what was underneath.
It meant that by the grace of God, the heart itself was being transformed into the likeness of Christ.
And perhaps that is one of the greatest opportunities before the Global Methodist Church.
Not simply to create another denomination.
Not to replace one religious system with another.
Not to become known merely as the Methodists who got certain issues right.
But to become a global movement proclaiming that Jesus Christ still changes hearts.
And the word Global should mean more than having churches located on different continents.
It should mean that Africans, Americans, Asians, Europeans, Latin Americans, and others are joining together under one King, participating in one Kingdom, and carrying one Gospel to a world where millions upon millions still desperately need to hear the name of Jesus.
That is our Great Commission.
We worship passionately.
We love extravagantly.
We witness boldly.
Not because those words make us special.
But because Jesus Christ has made us His.
And that brings us back to the thief and the Canaanite woman.
We do not have to approach Christ clutching our religious credentials.
We don't have to hide behind our fig leaves.
We don't have to pretend.
We may come to the throne of grace boldly and unafraid—even with empty hands.
Empty hands are not a problem for Jesus.
In fact, empty hands are finally able to receive.
We come saying:
“Lord, help me.”
“Jesus, remember me.”
And then grace begins its work.
We come empty-handed, not because righteousness does not matter, but because the righteousness that saves us is not something we manufacture for ourselves.
Christ receives us.
Christ forgives us.
Christ changes us.
Christ makes us holy.
And then He sends us into the world to tell others that they may come too.
No pretense.
No résumé.
No fig leaves.
Come boldly.
Come unafraid.
Come empty-handed.
Because the hands upon which our salvation ultimately depends are not ours.
They are the nail-scarred hands of Jesus Christ.
