Methodist Lovefeast.
Methodism has created new institutions and coined new words to express
the object of them. The lovefeast is purely Methodistic: it is a
meeting of Christian people belonging to one or more societies, where
they relate their religious experience, and bear their testimony to the
worth and influence of Divine grace in the soul.
Under the conduct of a minister, or someone duly appointed for the
purpose, the meeting is opened with singing and prayer; then, while the
people are sitting, bread and water are distributed to all present, to
suggest that believers are members of one great family, and partners in
the same spiritual provision made by Christ who gave Himself to be the
Bread of Life for men. When this is done the offerings of the people
are gathered, usually for the poor of the Lord's flock. The
formalities ended, the meeting is thrown open for the relation of
Christian experience, and any one speaks that is prompted.
In every period of Methodism the lovefeast has been a precious and
popular means of grace. These meetings are held all through the
country, every little church taking care to have its quarterly or
annual lovefeast. And it is remarkable what a hold some of these
meetings have upon the people; ten, or even twenty miles, have not been
considered too great a distance to be travelled in order to be present
at some of them, even though the entire journey has had to be performed
on foot. Men and women, some of them stricken in years and bowed down
with the toils and cares of a long and hard life, have joyfully walked
many a weary mile for the pleasure of attending a lovefeast; old
people, leading their grand-children by the hand, and telling them of
the stirring times of early Methodism; younger people in groups,
singing revival hymns as they plod steadily along the dusty or miry
roads under melting sun or pelting rains, making their way to these
attractive and soul-stirring meetings, contending against every
obstacle and overcoming every hindrance, determined to be there and do
honour to the Divine Master, who said, "Ye are my witnesses."
There have been some of the grandest manifestations of Divine power at
these gatherings, as seen and felt in the sweet, gentle, and
unconscious melting of feelings, until the whole congregation has been
broken down to tears and songs of joy and praise; or coming suddenly
upon them as a "rushing mighty wind," without sound or sign, save in
the bending of heads, the breaking of hearts, the streaming tears, and
the adoring responses of the people. Then, believers have caught the
spark of sanctifying fire from God Himself, and declared it; then, men
have been endued with the gift of tongues, and spoken with apostolic
power; then, sinners, drawn into the place by the peculiar attractions
of the occasion, have felt their souls shaken by Divine energy, like
forest trees in a tempest, and trembling, bending, rending, breaking,
have fallen in the storm of Heaven's mercy, and cried for help and
found it. Oh, how many there are now in glory or on the way, of whom
it may be said, "Convicted in a lovefeast! converted in a lovefeast!
sanctified in a lovefeast!" Their name is "legion, for they are many."
Hallelujah!
Some things among the usages of the churches we may perhaps afford to
dispense with and suffer no loss, but not this glorious means of grace.
If in any place they have lost their power, the fault is not in the
institution, but in the Church; religious declension is the greatest
enemy to this good old custom. If the Lord's people return to their
first love, the lovefeast will resume its former glory and power. Oh,
Lord, "wilt Thou not revive us again, that Thy people may rejoice in
Thee?"
Methodism cannot afford to forsake her old ways for new and untried
ones; they are intelligent, proper, and essentially Christian.
Lovefeasts are the olive branch which we have received from the revered
hands of our fathers and mothers in the faith, not to be cast away, but
to be prized and kept as a mark of our love for them, for each other,
and for Christ our Saviour; and though the green branch which they left
us may be somewhat faded, and its leaves droop in our moistureless
hands, though it has lost some of the freshness it had when it first
came to our keeping, thank God! thank God! it is not dead, it lives!
and can be revived. It wants more moisture; sprinkle tear-drops of
penitence upon its shrunken foliage; let the springs of our sympathy
once more flow over it; let us ask God to give us the "upper and the
nether springs," that _His_ love and ours may flow out in one united
stream; let us come to that stream, near, nearer, to the brink, and
olive branch in hand, plunge in, refresh ourselves, and revivify the
blessed, beautiful, and sacred symbol.
There was no meeting in which Little Abe was more at home than a
lovefeast; whether as conductor or in a private capacity,--if such a
term can be applied to Abe,--he gloried in a rousing lovefeast. His
love for these meetings and his aptitude in conducting them occasioned
a great demand for his presence. He had such a way of interspersing
enlivening comments between the speakers. He was a good singer, too,
and was always ready with some hymn expressive of the feeling of the
meeting. Then he had the power to make everyone feel at home, so that
he was the very man to lead a lovefeast, although he did sometimes say
things that would shock very orderly and circumspect persons.
DEVIL DIDN'T POP THEE.
Little Abe was leading a lovefeast in Berry Brow Chapel; the place was
crowded, people had come from far and near; the Holy Spirit was present
in great power; there was no lack of witnesses, two or three being
often on their feet together waiting for an opportunity to speak.
Little Abe, as he said, "was fair swabbing o'er," he wept for joy.
A young man at length rose to relate his Christian experience. He had
but lately been converted to Jesus, and before that had been a very
wicked, drunken, degraded character. He proceeded to say what the Lord
had done for him, how He had found him in his sins and misery, and
taken hold of him when hardly any one else would look at him, except a
policeman, who felt as if he had a sort of right to him, and often
found him board and lodgings for a few weeks. At the time of his
conversion he was almost naked, and absolutely destitute; said he, "I
had popt" (pawned) "my coat, and popt my shoes, my vest, my shirt, and
everything on which I could raise money, and I was almost in hell."
This was more than Abe could sit under; he sprang to his feet and
exclaimed, "It's a rare job th' devil didn't pop thee and all, my lad!
Praise th' Lord!" The young man fell on his seat and vented his
gratitude in a fresh burst of tears, and many an eye in that meeting
ran over as well.
RELIGION ALL HUMBUG.
Little Abe once got up in a lovefeast. "Friends," said he, "a man
asked me what I made so mich noise abaat religion for; he said, 'It's
all humbug,' and I said, 'Thaa'rt roight for once, mon; it's th'
sweetest humbug that iver I tasted. I have been sucking it for mony a
lang year, and it is sweeter than iver.'" (Humbug is the Yorkshire
name for sweets and goodies). It was just in Abe's way to turn the
tables on his assailant, and certainly in this case the Little Bishop
had the best of the encounter, and the joy of the humbug as well.
PENITENT PHYSIC.
The Bishop was leading a lovefeast in Shelley Chapel (where it is said
that the Rev. John Wesley once preached), and one of the speakers had
been a backslider, but had determined to return to the Lord. This man
was telling the meeting his bitter sorrow, and how he had drunk of the
wormwood and gall of repentance, and as he spoke tears ran chasing each
other down his face. "Bless th' Lord," said Little Abe, "I see my
Father has been giving the' some penitent physic, and it's made the'
'een" (eyes) "run. Ne'er moind, lad, He'll heal thee heart, and wipe'
away all tears from thee 'een.'"
HONLEY FEAST MONDAY.
The Honley feast is one of the remaining relics of byegone times, and
is tenaciously kept year by year throughout the parish as a holiday.
It begins with Sunday, and extends over the greater part of the week,
during which time the people enjoy themselves in ways suited to their
varied tastes, too many of them indulging in the cup which brings
aching heads and empty pockets. What a pity it is that men, and even
women, too, are so infatuated as to think that pleasure can only be
found in drunkenness and public-house brawling! Thank God there are
many who know the folly of this, and have other and better ways of
finding pleasure. Ever since Salem Chapel was first built it has been
the custom to hold a lovefeast there on Honley Feast Monday, and this
is perhaps the most popular meeting in the whole year, and is always
looked to with great interest. People come to this lovefeast from many
miles around, and the chapel is invariably filled to overflowing.
This was always a great occasion with Little Abe--a real red letter
day. I remember attending this annual meeting some years ago. Abe was
there, and he certainly monopolised a good share of my attention. He
was very happy, and kept on ringing changes with clapping, stamping,
shouting, and sometimes, when under strong feelings, he pealed a clash
altogether, with hand, foot, and voice. "Hey, lads!" he said, "it's
grand! it gets better and better, bless th' Lord!" His face was
covered with smiles from his smooth chin to his bald forehead; he never
ceased smiling during all that service,--for no sooner had his joyous
countenance spent itself on one pleasant thing, and the light, dancing
ripples begun to subside, than something else presented itself to his
notice, and another smile passed across his face like a playful breeze
over a clear pool, shaking up the waves again; and so on he went,
through all that service, with a face as bright as a sunbeam.
At length Abe rose to his feet, still smiling, and his hands clasped
together; every eye was on him in a moment, and smiles and tears of joy
mingled all over the chapel; the women wiped their eyes, and the men
shouted, "Glory, Abe! God bless the', lad." "Friends," he began, "I
am happy, I mun spaike naa, or I'st brust mysen." "Go on, Abe," came
from all parts of the chapel. "Hey, my lads, I mean to go on; I'm noan
going to turn back naa; it's heaven I set aat for, and heaven I mean.
I've been on th' road aboon fifty years, and I'st get t' th' end afore
lang." And then he went on to say how glad he was to see them there
once more, and to see the place full of earnest worshippers. "You knaw
it warn't always soa. I can remember when we wor just a few, but we
agreed to pray for a revival, and gie th' Lord no rest until we should
mak' His arm bare amang us. We started a prayer-meeting on Sunday
mornings at five o'clock to th' minute, and they that worn't there at
time should be locked aat. Well, yo' know, I wor' baan to be at that
meeting. So I telled aar Sally on Saturday noight I mun be up i' th'
morning at half-past four. Well, wod yo' believe it, I waked abaat
five minutes to five. I wor aat o' bed in a wink, and shoved my feet
in my stockings, and then on wi' my breeks, scratted up my booits"
(boots) "i' my hand, and off I ran in my stocking feet. When I gat
hoalf-way up th' Braa th' clock struck five, and I pushed one fooit in
my booit, fastened up my gallasses, and ran on agean panting up th'
hill, and just as I came t' th' gate I saw th' chapel door shut in my
face, so I wor locked aat; but I wor noan baan to looise my meeting.
While they insoid wor getting ready, I finished dressing mysen.
By-and-bye I hears one on 'em give aat a hymn, and I clapped my ear t'
th' key-hoil and listened for th' words, and then I put my maath to th'
hoil and sang with 'em, and so I kept on until they began to pray.
Then I listened, and shaated Amen through th' hoil, and kept on while
iver they prayed. At last my owd friend Bradley stopped in th' middle
of his prayer,--'Oppen that door,' he said, 'I canna pray with that
chap shaating in at th' key-hoil that road;' so they oppened th' door,
and I went in and had my meeting after all,--but yo' moind I wor niver
late agean."
Our little friend will be remembered as a lovefeast man for many years
to come. His name had quite grown to be associated with the Conference
lovefeast of the Methodist New Connexion, and many are the affectionate
references to our brother in these grand annual gatherings even to this
day. His voice is not now heard as it once was, along with that of
Thomas Hannam, John Shaw, and men of like spirit and notoriety; but his
name is still fragrant in the affectionate memories of those who are in
the habit of attending our Conference lovefeast.
"BREED 'EM YOURSENS."
Although Little Abe was no narrow-minded sectarian, he still loved to
foster in the minds of his own children a preference for the people
that had, under God, saved his soul, and made him what he was, and he
tried to bind his family to the Church of his choice. Spending a
Sunday in the town of Dewsbury, in company with a devoted brother and
local preacher who is now in heaven, they were led to converse about
the Community to which they both belonged. Abe said, "I was born in
th' New Connexion, never aat of it, and by God's help I'st die in it,
and I hope my children after me." And then, taking up an incident
which his own words had called to mind, he said, "My lad went by a
cheap trip to Hull t'other day, and what dost ta think wor th' first
thing he axed for when he gat there?" "Don't know," replied his
friend. "Why, afore he gat aat at station yard, he goes up to a man
and says, 'Can yo' tell me th' way t' th' New Connexion Chapel?' Naa,"
he added, looking across at his friend; "if yo' want th' roight soort,
yo' mun breed um yoursens;" a saying which, put into other words,
simply means that if we are to have reliable members in the Church,
pious parents must bring in their own children, and let them grow up in
the fear of the Lord and love of His people, and the maxim is correct.