Methodists on the Booze

There are many “Methodist” denominations throughout the world, not only the 1960s Harrismith, Orange Free State version, although that is the most important one. About 112 are listed in wikipedia. So there must be around 112 methylated ways to get to heaven, I spose. Many – or most maybe? – will deny whatever I mutter on the topic of their booze doctrine, but this is sort-of what they sort-of think, I think.

They gloss over Jesus and His wine. Jesus was a lot more pragmatic and accommodating than His Methodists. If he tried that water into wine trick in 2023 he’d be in trouble with this modern-day kerk! They would turn that trick of His into a whine. While it seems Meths are at pains to say they don’t actually BAN grog – no fatwas – they tut tut about it, and suggest that much-ignored Evangelical and Catholic tactic called ‘abstinence.’ The one that doesn’t work. That tactic. This is surely an opportunity for someone to start a 113th Meth sect: One that fearlessly BANS Booze!

From one of the many Methodist websites out there: “Abstinence from alcohol” witnesses to God’s liberating and redeeming love, and is part of living into the life God has prepared for us. We start there. We start with abstinence as faithful witness, and as the norm for guiding our behavior.” The fact that ‘where they start’ is 100% non-biblical? Well, the Bible is full of suggestions . . it’s a guideline . .

In 1960s Harrismith they didn’t get any of the above, sanks goodness. They got Mary Methodist who played the organ beautifully, coached the choir, sang in the choir, served on the Women’s Auxiliary (where women were kept away from any thoughts of usurping the patriarchy), kept us kids in line, or tried to, AND ran a bottle store. Which bottles contained liquor. She did all of these things well, and with love, did my Mom Mary of the Methodist Church and of the Platberg Bottle Store / Drankwinkel.

Do Methodists call for prohibition? Almost. They want “public policy calling for the strict administration of laws regulating the sale and distribution of alcohol.” Give them half a chance and they’ll prohibit, bottle stores will close, and the mafia will have our family’s income stream.

Well, despite their best efforts, if there is a place as boring as heaven, if it’s a good place, and if anyone is going there, Mary Methodist is most definitely at the front of that queue. St Peter won’t even ask to see her ID or her liquor licence. He’ll just wave her right through.

~~oo0oo~~

Here are a few more wafflings about booze by sundry Methodists:

https://www.umc.org/en/content/communion-and-welchs-grape-juice

https://www.christiancentury.org/article/2011-03/methodists-shun-bottle-no-one-wants-talk-about

https://christianityfaq.com/methodists-drink-alcohol/

Mostly it boils down to the same old ‘Yes, the Bible is the infallible word of God, BUT . . ‘ that all denominations use for various things.

~~oo0oo~~

Harrismith’s two bottle stores that provided much-needed succour to the grateful townsfolk were the Platberg Drankwinkel and the Horseshoe Drankwinkel. Sister Sheila tells the lovely story of the Aberfeldy farm school where the subject one day was Engels. The teacher asked, ‘Class, who knows the Afrikaans word for horseshoe?‘ And quick as a flash her friend Elsa du Plessis answered “Drankwinkel.”

Platberg bottle store, Annie’s garage, Flamingo Cafe & OHS 155 VW Beetle

Don’t Ask the Heathen!

I drove off to get some space and peace, and found out it’s hard to be on the road. Every space is taken. You can’t stop on the road and you really shouldn’t stop on the pavements. Nor should you block the few pull-over lanes the new South Africa made for taxis. But it was early Sunday morning, so I pulled into a lane that taxis can use outside St Elizabeth’s Church, not far from home. Who was Elizabeth, I wondered? And how do you become a saint? Do you have to be as evil as Mother Teresa?

So I’m sitting and thinking when a car cruises up slowly and stops opposite me. I wave and carry on with what I’m not doing when he winds down his window and I twig he wants to ask me something. He’s neatly dressed and the lady next to him is dressed for church. Lovely friendly-looking people who the Nats would have classified ‘Kleurlinges’- ‘Coloured’ – and the ANC KEPT these damned fake classifications! Jeeez! Under RACE in govt forms everyone should write NOT RUNNING.

‘Do you know what time the service is?’ he asks. Oh heck, no, I’m sorry, I’m a heathen. I wouldn’t have a clue, I tell him. It’s Anglican, right? I ask him. He says ‘Yes,’ smiling. His wife peers at me, interested, I think. Maybe she’s thinking: ‘So THAT’s what they look like!’? They drive off and park to watch the church. A few minutes later someone drives onto the church driveway, opens the gate and enters the parking lot. They follow that car – hopefully to get a more useful answer.

~~oo0oo~~

Tom’s Tortured Soul

Tom is in Gamalakhe inland of Shelly Beach visiting his big mate Lungelo. Lungelo has just been with us for a few days. They get fetched by Lungelo’s parents and today they’re going to church.

They leave at 08h30, church starts at 09h00 and on his way Tom messages me: “No airtime, please send”. I say Sing Those Hymns Sweetly My Boy.

At 13h17 he uses his new airtime “I’m still here! Haven’t eaten a thing! Desperate!”

At 14h12 he says “I am never going to another day of church in my life again!”

They got home at 16h15!! That’s torture! That’s cruel and unusual punishment! A mate of mine said his posh private boarding school cured him of church forever. I think this church has done it for Tom!

Tom tired in Church_2

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I fetched him in Shelly Beach on Thursday and got another heartfelt tale on the way home. The adults had seats, they had to stand! The preacher shouted over the tannoy for most of the six hours! The speakers would go WOOOH! and then SQUEEEE! every so often. The theme of this six-hour sermon was “scapegoats” or “escapegoats”, and these words were said about a million times, only surpassed by the number of times he said AMEN!

The collection drums came round four times. One round had the injunction to cough R50. He was asked why he hadn’t given, so he gave R2. He was also asked at one time why he was sitting on the floor, not standing. Some adults arrived late, some left early. The preacher would take a five minute break every so often while the people sang. “I’m sure he went out for a snack and something to drink” said an envious Tom.

In the last hour he made a resolution: For every hour he was trapped in this church he would avoid church for a full year! He reckons his next run-in with any church will be in 2024 – maybe.

Maybe he should send the preacher this link:

lengthy sermon.png