The most dangerous place for a ship to be in a storm is moored to a dock. The wind and waves will smash it to pieces against the dock and other vessels. A ship is much more likely to survive a storm by riding it out on open water.

If a ship is tied to the dock, after a storm has begun, it cannot simply sail out into the open sea. However, sailors have devised a technique whereby a crew can pull themselves to safety. This technique involves an ingenious use of the ship's anchor.

The anchor is cast out into the bay toward the sea. When the anchor digs in and is secured on the bottom, the ship reels in the chain and pulls itself toward the anchor. This process is repeated until the ship is safely out of the harbor.

The church finds itself in a storm today. The world is rapidly changing. Truths that seemed secure at the beginning of the previous century do not hold now. Science, technology, and globalization have brought us into a new world.

Religion is no longer a question of denomination. Church shopping has transformed itself into an à la carte menu of religious beliefs. Yet, in this multicultural, multifaith era, there is little esteem given to any belief system that challenges the course of consumer society.

Through most of the previous century, mainline churches felt confident. We trusted that the society, which was shaped in many ways by a religious revival of which we were a part, would remain a safe haven. We built big, glorious "ships" and anchored them in what seemed to be safe harbors.

Now the storms are here and the ships are being damaged. The question is: "Will we use our anchor?"

Our anchor is first and foremost the Cross of Jesus Christ – God's revelation in the man from Nazareth, whose life, death, and resurrection have provided, once and for all, reconciliation with God, new life in the Spirit, defeat of the principalities and powers, and a glimpse of the kingdom of God. Without him, we have nothing.

I believe the experience of Christ in early Methodism reveals two things to the wider church that will help give our anchor its grip. There are two arms to this anchor that will hold fast in the storm: Going Low and Going Deep.

The first arm is Going Low.

John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, was privileged. His family home in Epworth is grand. He and his brothers were educated at elite preparatory schools. All attended Oxford University.

On May 24, 1738, at a society meeting on Aldersgate Street, London, this privileged young clergyman experienced the personal assurance of God's forgiving love. Although the "new birth" was unusual in Wesley's circles, a number of respectable people had had such experiences.

What turned an isolated experience into revival happened in April 1739. On April 1, the day of fools, Wesley witnessed George Whitefield, one of his students at Oxford, preach to the masses out of doors. Such an exercise seemed at first unseemly to Wesley. That night God convicted him with the example of the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus, the Son of God, had preached out of doors to the crowd.

The next day "at four in the afternoon, [Wesley] submitted to be more vile, and proclaimed in the highways the glad tidings of salvation." His first open-air sermon echoed Jesus' calling to preach good news to the poor (Luke 4:18).

God called Wesley to "go low."

Much of mainline and evangelical Christianity in this country is overly concerned with respectability. Because of this, social circles within which we operate have gotten smaller and smaller.

If we are to be true to our anchor in the twenty-first century, we need to Go Low. We need to be more like Jesus (Philippians 2:5-11). If we allow ourselves to be "more vile for the Kingdom of God," the anchor (the cross of Christ) will grip with ordinary people, and we ourselves will be revived.

The second arm is to Go Deep.

A large part of Methodism's success was that it took the common person deep into Christian faith. Methodism's evangelistic focus was never limited to justification; it did not end with conviction or even the New Birth. Its focus was always sanctification – advancing the boundaries of God's kingdom in individuals and society.

The means to this end was discipleship in the class meeting. Those who joined the Methodist movement were nurtured into faith in Christ and equipped for growth in love through participation in the classes. This was the "method" in Methodism.

Such discipleship required a rule of life known as the General Rules. Wesley first published the General Rules in 1743 as a penny pamphlet. It went through thirty-nine editions in his lifetime. The rules were succinct and specific guidance for simple Christians seeking to live out their faith. They were understandable and holistic: Do no harm. Do good. Practice the instituted means of grace.

These rules molded a spirituality that held together individual piety, public worship, acts of compassion, and campaigns for justice – a spirituality that could be understood and practiced by ordinary people.

The class meeting has largely disappeared. The General Rules, though still published in The Book of Discipline of The United Methodist Church 2000 (pages 72-74), are neither as accessible nor as accessed as they once were. However, the spirit of the class meeting and the General Rules is revived today in Covenant Discipleship groups and the General Rule of Discipleship: To witness to Jesus Christ in the world and to follow his teachings through acts of compassion, justice, worship, and devotion under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

Only through such diligent accountable discipleship will the church have anything of substance to offer an increasingly confused, fragmented, and stormy world.

The cross of Christ – going low and going deep – is the anchor the church needs to help us weather the present storm. It is here with us in the boat, but we need to get it off the deck and into the bay. There are signs that such moves are beginning to take place. Certainly the ropes that have lashed us to shore are beginning to loosen. If we can locate and cast our anchor into the future, into the storms of this new century, our ship will be brought to a new place. Such a move is risky. Open water does not seem as secure as being tied to the shore, but it is where a ship belongs.

Scott Kisker is Assistant Professor, The James C. Logan Chair of Evangelism, at Wesley Theological Seminary in Washington, DC, and a clergy member of the Iowa Annual Conference of The United Methodist Church.