Discussion Questions

David Bercot points out that Wesley mentions the Aldersgate experience only once in 7,560 pages; what does that suggest about what Wesley thought conversion was (and was not), and how does that confront the way modern evangelicals often center “my conversion story” as the defining marker of Christian life? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If Wesley barely talked about his Aldersgate experience, what does that say about what he thought conversion is (and isn’t)? How does that challenge the modern habit of treating “my conversion story” as the main proof of real Christianity?

Wesley (as Bercot summarizes him) distinguishes a past “we were saved” from a future “will be saved” tied to “He who endures to the end”; how does that two-fold view of salvation reshape what “assurance” means, and what would it require a church to stop saying or start saying to be honest to that framework? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If salvation is both “we were saved” and “we will be saved if we endure,” how does that change what “assurance” means? What would your church need to stop saying or start saying to match that view?

Wesley attacks the idea that “Christ’s righteousness is imputed… therefore we need none of our own,” calling it Satan’s masterpiece; which parts of his description sound uncomfortably close to things you’ve heard in Protestant circles, and where do you think the line is between honoring Christ’s righteousness and using it as “a cover for the unrighteousness of man”? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Wesley says it’s dangerous to think Christ’s righteousness means we don’t need any righteousness in our own lives. What parts of that sound like things you’ve heard in Protestant churches, and where is the line between trusting Christ and using it as an excuse to keep sinning?

Wesley insists, “Christ is no savior to you unless He saves you from your sins,” and that faith “profits you nothing” unless it purifies the heart; how does that claim change what you think God’s intentions are in grace—merely forgiving guilt, or actually delivering from sin’s power—and what happens to “salvation by faith” language if Wesley is right? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If Jesus isn’t your Savior unless He saves you from your sins, what does that say grace is meant to do—just forgive, or actually change and free you from sin’s power? If Wesley is right, how should we use the phrase “salvation by faith”?

Wesley ridicules the claim “Oh, I can do nothing,” saying that if you have faith you can “love Him and keep His commandments” and find them “the joy of your heart”; where do you see modern Christians (including sincere ones) using inability language to excuse disobedience, and what would it look like to test Wesley’s claim in a specific area of obedience? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Where do Christians today say “I can’t help it” to excuse disobeying God? Pick one specific command, and what would it look like to test Wesley’s claim that real faith can obey with joy?

Wesley’s dress sermon argues it is not beneath God’s wisdom to give “specific directions” about apparel (1 Peter 3; 1 Timothy 2); what does this reveal about God’s character and priorities—especially His concern for “trifles”—and how does that challenge the modern tendency to treat external practices as spiritually irrelevant? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If God gives specific guidance about clothing, what does that show about what God cares about, even “small” things? How does that challenge the idea that outward habits don’t matter spiritually?

Wesley distinguishes “slovenliness” from Christian plainness, insisting on neatness and cleanliness while rejecting “gold or pearls or costly array”; what would a genuinely “neat but plain and cheap” standard look like in your social setting today, and what practical difficulties or hypocrisies would it expose in your own habits? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What would “neat, clean, but plain and cheap” clothing look like in your world today? What problems or double standards would that expose in your own habits?

Wesley gives four harms of costly apparel—pride, vanity (desire to be admired), turbulent passions opposed to a “meek and quiet spirit,” and lust in both wearer and beholder—then asks, “Did you not desire… did you not design that it would do so?”; how do you respond to his accusation of intentionality, and how might you discern when your clothing choices are meant to attract admiration or desire rather than to please God? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Wesley says people often dress to be admired or to stir desire on purpose—how do you react to that? How can you tell when your clothing choices are to please God versus to get attention?

Wesley says every shilling needlessly spent on apparel is “in effect stolen from God and from the poor,” even calling expensive adornment “the blood of the poor,” illustrated by his Oxford story about wall pictures; what would it do to your spending if you took that logic literally, and where do you think modern Christians instinctively resist it (including arguments like “but I can afford it”)? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If every extra dollar spent on fancy clothes is money taken from God and the poor, how would your spending change? Where do you feel yourself push back against that idea, even thinking, “But I can afford it”?

Wesley warns against “meddlers” who laugh others out of costly-plain convictions, tells people to avoid such tempters, and even urges cutting off “sinful friendship with the ungodly” that pulls one back into conformity; what kinds of relationships and social pressures most shape your conformity today (family teasing, church culture, friendships), and what concrete steps—today, not “tomorrow”—would obedience require if Wesley’s counsel is accurate? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What people or pressures most push you to fit in (family jokes, friends, church culture)? If Wesley is right about avoiding those influences, what specific step should you take today, not later?