July 16, 2025: The death was not unexpected, nonetheless it hurt. He had been an almost constant companion in my automobile since January… literally, a passenger in the car with me. He had traveled with JoAnne and me on ice cream runs, on our trips to visit family in Richmond, Annual Conference and even our annual family exodus to the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

I first “met” him in May of 2013, when my friend Julie Nitzsche and I were enrolled in an online United Methodist History class through Wesley Theological Seminary. The final project for the class was to visit a designated United Methodist Historical Site and write a reflective paper on the experience. Partly out of convenience (because it was nearby), but also with a sense of curiosity of the man, I suggested we visit the deathplace of Francis Asbury. The only physical evidence to be found was this historic marker, erected by the Commonwealth of Virginia. For me, though, Francis Asbury died today, July 16, 2025.

An explanation is in order. How can a man who died over 200 years ago, die today? While dreaming, researching and reading more about Asbury, I came to realize that I needed to read his entire journal. As the subject of a forthcoming book, concentrating on the year 1791 was ok… but imagine what I might learn about this man who shared his thoughts, trials, laments, joys and concerns of 45 years for all to see.

I found that an audio recording of Asbury’s journal was available on LibriVox, in three volumes that totaled over 66 hours of listening time. I’ve listened to many books while driving, in January, I began listening to Francis Asbury’s journal whenever I was in my car.

I met him as he disembarked from his sailing ship in 1771 at Philadelphia and preached for the first time at St. Georges Church. I listened to his anguish of British Men O’ War ships reported at a nearby harbor and the “great loss of life” during Revolutionary War battles. I’ve looked over his shoulder as he read letters from John Wesley. I was there when Thomas Coke ordained him, and he was elected the 1^st bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church.

I have heard his laments on the wickedness of slavery. I’ve observed his gift of compromise as he grew and held together the early Methodist Church. With joy, I was there as he presided over the sacraments for the first time. I watched him suffer repeatedly with illness to the point of asking God to please take him.

Over these months of listening, I have heard entries of a very spiritual nature, confessions to temptations and joy at God’s deliverance. I have experienced the explosive growth of Methodism by Asbury’s loving guidance.

Yesterday, as I was commuting from the parsonage at Batesville, to our home in Ruckersville, I knew that I was very close to the end of Asbury’s journal. I was listening to his entries from December 1815. I expected another 20-25 minute segment following that, but was surprised to see a 10 minute segment titled “An Account of the Death of Francis Asbury” show up on my car’s display panel.

I stopped the recording, as if to delay Asbury’s death. Did I want to experience it while driving? How will I react? After so many hours, what will I do next? I woke up this morning, having not listened to that final chapter of his journal. Thoughts of it occupied every idle moment of my mind. 24 hours after having stopped the recording, I asked JoAnne if she would like to go for ride and listen to those last 10 minutes of the journal. She said yes… but she’d like to hear Asbury’s final entries just before that. Ah… he will live for another 22 minutes.

We listened together to those last entries – in hindsight, entries of a dying man, and man who knew the end was near. His final words for the world were very spiritual and reflective in nature. Gone were the reports of miles traveled, a count of new professing souls. The final 10 minutes played automatically. When it ended, there was silence in the car. I fought back tears and choked to say anything. My old friend died today at the age of 71… I am 71 on this day.

LibriVox readers are volunteers and often there will be multiple readers associated with a book. In the case of Asbury’s journal, about 95% was read by Brian Keenan. After hours of listening, I have come to associate Brian’s voice with Francis Asbury. Should I meet Bishop Asbury one day in Glory… I will expect his voice to be the voice of Brian Keenan. And unless I misunderstand the extent of God’s grace, I suspect God would make that so.

Peace,
-Pastor Tim