Student Testimony: Philip Matherne

My first experience with the Wesley Foundation was just a few days after stepping foot onto Louisiana Tech’s campus back in the fall quarter of 2015. The Wesley was hosting their popular 7:03 talent show, and I had signed up to perform some poetry I had written that summer. I had a great time watching everyone sing, perform magic, show off cool talents, and crack jokes, but what I remember most, with tangible clarity, was how hard my hands were shaking, how much my voice was wavering, and the racing heartbeat I couldn’t slow down as I stood behind the microphone. I distinctly remember the vulnerability I felt as I stepped in front of all of these strangers to share a piece of myself that I honestly had never shared with anyone before. The poem embodied the emotions and thoughts that I experienced from the end of a close relationship. They were longing and lonely words. I was concerned that opening myself up to these people would mean that they would see a genuine piece of myself and with the possibility that they would reject it—i.e., me. I was also worried that it was just bad poetry and I didn’t know any better (whether it was good poetry or not isn’t very important and doesn’t keep me awake at night). 

The MC that night, an intern at the Wesley named Courtney Nash, came up to me afterward and told me how much he enjoyed my piece. I don’t remember any more of our conversation, but we exchanged numbers, and I, for the majority of the next 3 years, did a passable job of avoiding the Wesley as best as I could. It wasn’t anything they had done. I received nothing short of love, encouragement, and warm welcome, but I busied myself in the activities of academic work, extracurricular activities, and the belief that the Wesley wasn't the place for me. To be honest, I had come to the conclusion that the Wesley was full of strangers that asked for your number and then never stopped texting you to hang out, had some weird progressive agenda, and listened to their hearts more than they listened to their bibles. Why I thought any of those things were reasons to avoid the Wesley is anyone’s guess. To be fair, the Wesley is still a place where I’m constantly receiving invitations to hang out, has a “weird progressive agenda,” and listens to their heart because they listen to their bibles. And that weird agenda turned out to be the same one shared by a Jewish carpenter crucified in the year A.D. 33. You know, the one that upset the established complacency of the ones who heard it, that expected them to actually change the way they lived in a way that would lead them to give up their own life and share that message with others through love and service? Yeah, I’m talking about me there. 

I could have saved myself a lot of misconception and experienced a lot more joy had I learned to overcome my fear of rejection. Thankfully for me, the people at the Wesley kept gently pursuing me. And I kept running away, not just from the Wesley but also the practices of attending my church regularly and the daily practice of reading the bible and praying. I would receive texts from Nash each season around the time of a talent show asking me to come to share more poetry. And I would ignore them. Thankfully, the Wesley had a secret weapon that I couldn’t so easily ignore, and I’m moving into a house with him this summer! 

They had the long-con, Pete Mace. I met Pete at the beginning of my sophomore year as he began his first quarter at Tech. We were both a part of the same friend group that became our main social circle at school. But, unlike me, Pete joined the Wesley community within the first week of being on campus and got involved. I joined his small group for a year, but I wasn’t a very good group member. I missed a lot, and the nights that I was there, I could be found as either the contrary opinion of the evening or conked out asleep (sorry, Pete!). However, through all of the avoidance on my part, I kept experiencing the attention and desire of those people to get to know me and love me. 

It was around this time last summer that Pete invited me to Wesley’s version of a summer reading program. Call it a study, a book club, or a discussion group, I bought a copy of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Life Together and came ready to be that contrary voice whenever something that didn’t match my theology was said. I was discouragingly convinced that I would speak up about something that would cause me to be rejected by the people there and that I would find many opportunities to do so. What I was met with instead is the reason why I am writing this to you now and the reason why I will be interning with the Wesley this school year, Lord willing.

I was met by the truth. I did end up having plenty of questions, but they were met with love and the scriptures. I encountered Christ through His believers and their desire to be governed by, confronted with, and conformed to the scriptures. I discovered a community that admitted to and allowed for the uncomfortable gospel to be present and unchanged by human experience. I met Christians who were more concerned with living like Christians than being right or what other people thought of them. Later, as I decided to finally start pursuing the people who pursued me by leading a small group, I learned how to share the ugly and broken parts of me that I feared would lead to rejection and have the hearers respond with increased intimacy. I learned how to be a part of a Christian community that encouraged the confession of sin, my sin, and wanted to hear about it. I’ve been rooted ever since.

Whether the words spoken at the Wesley are eloquent or not, they are the gospel. Despite the conclusions that the world often draws about Christians, the heart of the people at the Wesley, my people, is one that mirrors the love of Christ and pursues people like me the way that He did. 

Philip Matherne is an incoming intern at the Wesley Foundation. He recently graduated from Louisiana Tech with a Kinesiology and Health Sciences degree and a minor in Biology. In his spare time, Philip enjoys competitive napping, non-competitive cooking, and exploring outside.