According to Rome, only the church, i.e., the pope and bishops, are vested with the authority to interpret Scripture. For centuries, Rome denied the laity direct access to the Bible. In modern times, while granting the words of Scripture to the masses, Rome still monopolizes the meaning. More than four hundred years ago, William Whitaker addressed this abuse in his Disputations on the Holy Scriptures. Among the arguments he addressed was the claim that the church fathers favored the papist dogma on the issue. Against their use of Augustine, Whitaker wrote:

Augustine is next objected to us, who, in his first book against Cresconius the grammarian, cap. 33, says, “Let him who fears he may be deceived, consult the church.” I answer: This we allow, but under the condition which Augustine subjoins; namely, that that church is to be consulted “which the scripture points out.” For otherwise than by the scriptures it cannot certainly be known which is the true church. We say that the church should be consulted in every cause which concerns faith, and that the church ought to consult the scriptures. And truly they are justly deceived who do not consult the church, and obey her pious counsels and admonitions. But, although pious doctors are to be sought for and inquired of, and all proud and perilous temptations to be avoided, as Augustine hath reminded us in the Prologue to his books of Christian Doctrine; yet we should consider both what they answer, and how truly, lest our faith should rest upon human teaching rather than upon divine testimony. That is not really faith, which is founded upon the authority of men; and upon such authority is founded whatever depends not on the word and voice of God.

—William Whitaker, Disputations on the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 2005), 442.

John MacArthur explains Calvin’s view of human depravity:

The phrase “total depravity” (not an expression of Calvin’s but a phrase descriptive of his view) has an unfortunate ambiguity about it. Many who are exposed to that terminology for the first time suppose it means Calvin taught that all sinners are as thoroughly bad as they possibly can be.
   But Calvin expressly disclaimed that view. He acknowledged that “in every age there have been persons who, guided by nature, have striven toward virtue throughout life” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 2.3.3.]. Calvin suggested that such people (even though there are “lapses . . . in their moral conduct” [Ibid.]) are of commendable character, from a human point of view. “They have by the very zeal of their honesty given proof that there was some purity in their nature” [Ibid.]. He went even further: “These examples, accordingly, seem to warn us against adjudging man’s nature wholly corrupted, because some men have by its prompting not only excelled in remarkable deeds, but conducted themselves most honorably throughout life” [Ibid., emphasis added.].
   Nevertheless, Calvin went on to say, such thinking actually points the wrong direction. Instead, “it ought to occur to us that amid this corruption of nature there is some place for God’s grace; not such grace as to cleanse it, but to restrain it inwardly” [Ibid.].
   Calvin was describing here what later theologians called “common grace”—the divine restraining influence that mitigates the effects of our sin and enables even fallen creatures to display—never perfectly, but always in a weak and severely blemished way—the image of God that is still part of our human nature, marred though it was by the fall.
   In other words, depravity is “total” in the sense that it infects every part of our being—not the body only; not the feelings alone; but flesh, spirit, mind, emotions, desires, motives, and will together. We’re not always as bad as we can be, but that is solely because of God’s restraining grace. We ourselves are thoroughly depraved, because in one way or another sin taints everything we think, do, and desire. Thus, we never fear God the way we should, we never love Him as much as we ought, and we never obey Him with a totally pure heart. That, for Calvin, is what depravity means.
   Calvin’s thorough treatment of human depravity is one of his most important legacies. Next to his work on the doctrine of justification by faith, it may be the most vital aspect of his doctrinal system. He brought clarity to a crucial principle that had practically fallen into obscurity over the centuries since Augustine’s conflict with Pelagius: to magnify human free will or minimize the extent of human depravity is to downplay the need for divine grace, and that undermines every aspect of gospel truth.
   Once a person truly grasps the truth of human depravity, the more difficult and controversial principles of Calvinist soteriology fall into place. Unconditional election, the primacy and efficacy of saving grace, the need for substitutionary atonement, and the perseverance of those whom God graciously redeems are all necessary consequences of this principle.

—John MacArthur, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 137–138

In his chapter of the book John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, “Election and Reprobation,” Richard D. Phillips presents John Calvin’s doctrine, as well as Calvin’s answers to some common objections. Of particular interest to me is his response to the position I formerly held:

   First among [the objections to the doctrine of Unconditional Election] is the assertion that election is based on God’s foreknowledge. This approach seeks to counter Calvin’s doctrine of election by asserting that God foresees which people will believe His Word in the future, then predestines them for salvation on that basis. Likewise, God foreknows those who will not believe, and thus elects them for condemnation. Calvin explains, “These persons consider that God distinguishes among men according as he foresees what the merits of each will be” [John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill; trans. Ford Lewis Battles; Library of Christian Classics, XX–XXI (Philadelphia: Westminster John Knox, 1960), 3.21.3.].
   In reply, Calvin first notes that the true issue involves the origin of salvation. Under the foreknowledge view, God’s grace finds its origin in the worthiness of the recipient; since God can give grace only in response to foreseen merit, it is not His freely to give. But the Bible presents a different picture: as Calvin states, “God has always been free to bestow his grace on whom he wills” [Ibid., 3.22.1.].
   Calvin then unfolds the teaching of Scripture, which insists that salvation originates not in the worthiness of the recipient but in the free grace of God. He notes that the Bible’s teaching that God chose His people before the creation of the world (Eph. 1:4) clearly means merit plays no part in their election. We are chosen “in Christ”—since we have nothing in ourselves to commend us to God’s grace, God views us by our union with Christ. This shows that the elect possess no merit of their own for God to foresee. In fact, Calvin says, Ephesians 1:4 declares that “all virtue appearing in man is the result of election” [Ibid., 3.22.2.].
   Here, then, is the question: is our faith the cause or the result of our election? If we are elected because of foreseen faith, then we can make no sense of Paul’s teaching: “He chose us in [Christ] before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him” (Eph. 1:4). As Calvin explains, the foreknowledge objection inverts the order of Paul’s reasoning: “If he chose us that we should be holy, he did not choose us because he foresaw that we would be so” [Ibid., 3.22.3.]. This is abundantly confirmed in Paul’s subsequent teaching, when he states that our election is “according to the purpose of his will” (Eph. 1:5) and “according to his purpose” (Eph. 1:9). Paul uses similar language in 2 Timothy 1:9, writing that God “saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace.” Preaching on this text, Calvin asserts: “He saith not that God hath chosen us because we have heard the gospel, but on the other hand, he attributes the faith that is given us to the highest cause; to wit, because God hath fore-ordained that He would save us” [John Calvin, The Mystery of Godliness and Other Sermons (1830; repr. Morgan, Pa.: Soli Deo Gloria, 1999), 46.]. Therefore, instead of teaching that salvation originates in what God foresees in us, Calvin insists, “all benefits that God bestows for the spiritual life, as Paul teaches, flow from this one source: namely, that God has chosen whom he has willed, and before their birth has laid up for them individually the grace that he willed to grant them” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.22.2.].

—Richard D. Phillips, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 147–149.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

HYMN 27 (C. M.)
Assurance of heaven. 2 Tim. iv. 6—8, 18.
Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

Death may dissolve my body now,
   And bear my spirit home;
Why do my minutes move so slow,
   Nor my salvation come?

With heav’nly weapons I have fought
   The battles of the Lord;
Finished my course, and kept the faith,
   And wait the sure reward.]

God has laid up in heav’n for me
   A crown which cannot fade;
The righteous Judge at that great day
   Shall place it on my head.

Nor hath the King of grace decreed
   This prize for me alone;
But all that love and long to see
   Th’ appearance of his Son.

Jesus the Lord shall guard me safe
   From every ill design;
And to his heav’nly kingdom keep
   This feeble soul of mine.

God is my everlasting aid,
   And hell shall rage in vain;
To him be highest glory paid
   And endless praise—Amen.

—from The Psalms & Hymns of Isaac Watts. Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book I: Collected from the Holy Scriptures

John 1:19–28
   19 This is the testimony of John, when the Jews sent to him priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” 20 And he confessed and did not deny, but confessed, “I am not the Christ.” 21They asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” And he said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” And he answered, “No.” 22 Then they said to him, “Who are you, so that we may give an answer to those who sent us? What do you say about yourself?” 23 He said, “I am a voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as Isaiah the prophet said.”
   24 Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. 25 They asked him, and said to him, “Why then are you baptizing, if you are not the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” 26 John answered them saying, “I baptize in water, but among you stands One whom you do not know. 27 It is He who comes after me, the thong of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” 28 These things took place in Bethany beyond the Jordan, where John was baptizing.

The verses we have now read begin the properly historical part of John’s Gospel. Hitherto we have been reading deep and weighty statements about Christ’s divine nature, incarnation, and dignity. Now we come to the plain narrative of the days of Christ’s earthly ministry, and the plain story of Christ’s doings and sayings among men. And here, like the other Gospel-writers, John begins at once with “the record” or testimony of John the Baptist. (Matt. iii. 1; Mark i. 2; Luke iii. 2.)
   We have, for one thing, in these verses, an instructive example of true humility. That example is supplied by John the Baptist himself.
   John the Baptist was an eminent saint of God. There are few names which stand higher than his in the Bible calendar of great and good men. The Lord Jesus Himself declared that “Among those who are born of woman there has not risen a greater than John the Baptist.” (Matt. xi. 11.) The Lord Jesus Himself declared that he was “a burning and a shining light.” (John v. 35.) Yet here in this passage we see this eminent saint lowly, self-abased, and full of humility. He puts away from himself the honor which the Jews from Jerusalem were ready to pay him. He declines all flattering titles. He speaks of himself as nothing more than the “voice of one crying in the wilderness,” and as one who “baptized with water.” He proclaims loudly that there is One standing among the Jews far greater than himself, One whose shoe-latchet he is not worthy to unloose. He claims honor not for himself but for Christ. To exalt Christ was his mission, and to that mission he steadfastly adheres.
   The greatest saints of God in every age of the Church have always been men of John the Baptist’s spirit. In gifts, and knowledge, and general character they have often differed widely. But in one respect they have always been alike;—they have been “clothed with humility.” (1 Pet. v. 5.) They have not sought their own honor. They have thought little of themselves. They have been ever willing to decrease if Christ might only increase, to be nothing if Christ might be all. And here has been the secret of the honor God has put upon them. “He that humbles himself shall be exalted.” (Luke xiv. 11.)
   If we profess to have any real Christianity, let us strive to be of John the Baptist’s spirit. Let us study humility. This is the grace with which all must begin, who would be saved. We have no true religion about us, until we cast away our high thoughts, and feel ourselves sinners.—This is the grace which all saints may follow after, and which none have any excuse for neglecting. All God’s children have not gifts, or money, or time to work, or a wide sphere of usefulness; but all may be humble.—This is the grace, above all, which will appear most beautiful in our latter end. Never shall we feel the need of humility so deeply, as when we lie on our deathbeds, and stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. Our whole lives will then appear a long catalogue of imperfections, ourselves nothing, and Christ all.
   We have, for another thing, in these verses, a mournful example of the blindness of unconverted men. That example is supplied by the state of the Jews who came to question John the Baptist.
   These Jews professed to be waiting for the appearance of Messiah. Like all the Pharisees they prided themselves on being children of Abraham, and possessors of the covenants. They rested in the law, and made their boast of God. They professed to know God’s will, and to believe God’s promises. They were confident that they themselves were guides of the blind, and lights of those who sat in darkness. (Rom. ii. 17—19.) And yet at this very moment their souls were utterly in the dark. “There was standing among them,” as John the Baptist told them, “One whom they knew not.” Christ Himself, the promised Messiah, was in the midst of them, and yet they neither knew Him, nor saw Him, nor received Him, nor acknowledged Him, nor believed Him. And worse than this, the vast majority of them never would know Him! The words of John the Baptist are a prophetic description of a state of things which lasted during the whole of our Lord’s earthly ministry. Christ “stood among the Jews,” and yet the Jews knew Him not, and the greater part of them died in their sins.
   It is a solemn thought that John the Baptist’s words in this place apply strictly to thousands in the present day. Christ is still standing among many who neither see, nor know, nor believe. Christ is passing by in many a parish and many a congregation, and the vast majority have neither an eye to see Him, nor an ear to hear Him. The spirit of slumber seems poured out upon them. Money, and pleasure, and the world they know; but they know not Christ. The kingdom of God is close to them; but they sleep. Salvation is within their reach; but they sleep. Mercy, grace, peace, heaven, eternal life, are so near that they might touch them; and yet they sleep. “Christ stands among them and they know him not.” These are sorrowful things to write down. But every faithful minister of Christ can testify, like John the Baptist, that they are true. What are we doing ourselves? This, after all, is the great question that concerns us. Do we know the extent of our religious privileges in this country, and in these times? Are we aware that Christ is going to and fro in our land, inviting souls to join Him and to be His disciples? Do we know that the time is short and that the door of mercy will soon be closed for evermore? Do we know that Christ rejected will soon be Christ withdrawn? Happy are they who can give a good account of these inquiries and who “know the day of their visitation!” (Luke xix. 44.) It will be better at the last day never to have been born, than to have had Christ “standing among us” and not to have known Him.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:43–46

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

This is what was on my mind last night as I went to bed and this morning when woke up, probably because I’ve been reading a lot of WWII history lately. When I was a kid watching television programs like Baa Baa Black Sheep, I never really got the point of fighter planes flying around shooting at each other. So you shot the other guy down, and lived to tell about it; how is either side farther ahead than if they had just stayed home? Likewise, I didn’t really understand the reason for most naval battles. Many years and several Tom Clancy novels later, I understand, and you probably do, too. But do you understand how crucial that knowledge is to the effectiveness of the church in the world? And do you see that large portions of the church apparently don’t get it?

Now here is a concept that, obvious as it is, had never occurred to me: while God, in his omnipresence, fills all of creation, it is really creation that is contained by him. Charnock wrote:

“In him we live,” is to be understood, not of his power and goodness, perfections of his nature, distinguished according to our manner of conception from his essence, but of the essential presence of God with his creatures. If he had meant it of his efficiency in preserving us, it had not been any proof if his nearness to us. Who would go about to prove the body or sustenance of the sun to be near to us because it doth warm and enlighten us, when our sense evidenceth the distance of it? We live in the beams of the sun, but we cannot be said to live in the sun, which is so far distant from us. The expression seems to be more emphatical than to intend any less than his essential presence; but we live in him not only as the efficient cause of our life, but as the foundation sustaining our lives and motions, as if he were like air, diffused round about us; and we move in him . . . as a sponge in the sea, not containing him, but being contained by him. He compasseth all, is encompassed by none; he fills all, is comprehended by none. The Creator contains the world, the world contains not the Creator; as the hollow of the hand contains the water, the water in the hollow of the hand contains not the hand; and therefore some have chose to say, rather, that the world is in God, it lives and moves in him, than that God is in the world. If all things thus live and move in him, then he is present with everything that hath life and motion; and as long as the devils and damned have life, and motion, and being, so long is he with them; for whatsoever lives and moves, lives and moves in him.

—Stephen Charnock, The Existence and Attributes of God (Baker Books, 2005), 1:374–375

William Whitaker cites the Apostle Paul’s praise of the Bereans against the Roman Catholic doctrine of sola ecclesia:

   Our seventh argument [demonstrating that scripture, and not the church, is the interpreter of scripture] is taken from Acts xvii. 11, where the Bereans are praised for searching the scriptures whether those things which Paul taught were so. From which place we argue thus: If the doctrine of the apostle was examined by scripture, then the doctrine of the church should also be examined by scripture. The antecedent is true; therefore also the consequent. The Jesuit here hath but one reply. He says that the person of the apostle was not known to the Bereans, and that they did not understand whether Paul was an apostle or not; and therefore that they did well in judging his doctrine by the scriptures: but we do know (says he) that the church cannot err, and therefore we ought not to examine its teaching. I answer: It makes little matter whether the Bereans knew Paul to be an apostle or not. The question is not about persons, but about the kind of teaching. The Bereans are praised for not rashly and hastily receiving whatever Paul taught them, but diligently examining his doctrine by scripture. Whence we draw two inferences: First, that all doctrine is to be judged by the scriptures. For, if the Bereans compared the preaching of an apostle with the rule of scripture, shall we embrace without any examination whatever the pope may please to maintain? Secondly, That the apostles preached nothing which could not be established by the scriptures of the prophets, and did perfectly agree with them. But we (says he) know that the church cannot err. But we (say I) know that the pope errs shamefully, and they who think otherwise err also to the eternal ruin of their own souls. . . . Verily, the church, that is, the pope, would be a kind of God if he could not err.

—William Whitaker, Disputations on the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 2005), 457.

Writing on “The advantages of predestination” according to Calvin, Richard Phillips presents the doctrine of election as a source of assurance to believers:

   Calvin also saw the doctrine of predestination as possessing great pastoral value, especially in rightly grounding our assurance of salvation. But first he warned against a vain and dangerous attempt to base our assurance on direct knowledge of God’s decree. One must not attempt, he writes, “to break into the inner recesses of divine wisdom . . . in order to find out what decision has been made concerning himself at God’s judgment seat.” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.24.4.] No mere creature has direct access to God’s eternal counsel, so to seek assurance through knowledge of election is to be dashed against the rocks like a shipwrecked mariner.
   So how does the doctrine of election contribute to assurance? Calvin preached: “How do we know that God has elected us before the creation of the world? By believing in Jesus Christ. . . . Whosoever then believes is thereby assured that God has worked in him, and faith is, as it were, the duplicate copy that God gives us of the original of our adoption. God has his eternal counsel, and he always reserves to himself the chief and original record of which he gives us a copy by faith.” [John Calvin, Sermons on the Epistle to the Ephesians (1577; repr. Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1973), 47.] Election is always “in Christ” (Eph. 1:4), so the distinguishing mark of the elect is their union with Christ in faith. “Therefore,” Calvin explains, “if we desire to know whether God cares for our salvation, let us inquire whether he has entrusted us to Christ, whom he has established as the sole Savior of all his people.” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.24.6.]
   On this basis, true believers can and should look to the future without anxiety, knowing that their faith in Christ testifies to their eternal election. But this does not encourage presumptuous abuse of our privileges, since apart from discipleship to Christ our grounds for confidence vanish. Most importantly, Christians look for perseverance in faith not to themselves but to the promise of Christ: “This is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day” (John 6:39). Likewise, we rely for our perseverance in faith on the determination of God’s sovereign will, since, Paul writes, “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6).
   How many Christians stumble on in weakness, burdened with doubts that would be erased if only they knew their salvation rested not in themselves but in God? The doctrine of election tells us that it was God who sought us and not we who sought Him; that God called us to Himself in time because He chose us in eternity. No longer seeking confidence in a decision we have made or in our feeble resolves for the future, we put our confidence in God, as Paul insists: “God’s firm foundation stands, bearing this seal: ‘The Lord knows those who are his’” (2 Tim. 2:19a). Notice Calvin’s pastoral sensitivity as he preaches on this theme:

We are as birds upon the boughs, and set forth as a prey to Satan. What assurance then could we have of tomorrow, and of all our life; yea, and after death, were it not that God, who hath called us, will end His work as He hath begun it. How hath He gathered us together in the faith of His gospel? Is it grounded upon us? Nay, entirely to the contrary; it proceedeth from His free election. Therefore; we may be so much the more freed from doubt. [Calvin, The Mystery of Godliness, 103–104.]

—Richard D. Phillips, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 152–153.

There are certain people to whom I may or may not be related who would dispute my humility, or might in Churchillian fashion say, “Well, yes, but then he has good cause to be humble.” Calvinists in general are often characterized as lacking humility. While there no doubt are arrogant Calvinists, I believe this is a misrepresentation of Calvinists. We are, as our theology dictates, the first to admit that we have good reason to be humble, and no cause for pride. That is not to say that we don’t struggle with pride the same as everyone else. But God is faithful to provide humbling experiences (Daniel 4:37), as he did on this day last month . . .

By law, every blogger is required to make some remarks on the passing of Michael Jackson; at least, it seems so to me. This will be my one and only, with only a couple of items to mention.

I thought nothing could top the mis-direction of patriotic* worship services until I saw this (HT).

A lot of gushing praise has been poured out on Michael Jackson. Most of it (actually, all of it, in my opinion) is pure nonsense. A lot of negative things have been said as well. We’ll never know how accurate many of those things are. Without a doubt, there is much we have not understood, and never will understand, about this eccentric (to put it mildly) man. That being the case, it is prudent to simply keep our mouths shut and refrain from speculating about what we don’t know. Otherwise, when or if the truth is discovered, open mouths may be the mark of fools. For example , this.

*I’m not at all against patriotism. I’m very much a patriot myself. But when the church gathers together, it does so as citizens of a kingdom not of this world.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

HYMN XVIII
The Golden Calf    Ex. xxxii. 4, 31.
by John Newton (1725–1807)

WHEN Israel heard the fiery law,
   From Sinai’s top proclaim’d;
Their hearts seemed full of holy awe,
   Their stubborn spirits tam’d.

Yet, as forgetting all they knew,
   Ere forty days were past;
With blazing Sinai still in view,
   A molten calf they cast.

Yea, Aaron, God’s anointed priest,
   Who on the mount had been
He durst prepare the idol–beast,
   And lead them on to sin.

Lord, what is man! and what are we,
   To recompense thee thus!
In their offence our own we see,
   Their story points at us.

From Sinai we have heard thee speak,
   And from mount Calv’ry too;
And yet to idols oft we seek,
   While thou art in our view.

Some golden calf, or golden dream,
   Some fancy’d creature–good,
Presumes to share the heart with him,
   Who bought the whole with blood.

Lord, save us from our golden calves,
   Our sin with grief we own;
We would no more be thine by halves,
   But live to thee alone.

—from Olney Hymns. Book I: On select Passages of Scripture.

John 1:29–34
John’s Witness at Christ’s Baptism
Mt. 3:13–17; Mk. 1:9–11; Lk. 3:21, 22

This passage contains a verse which ought to be printed in great letters in the memory of every reader of the Bible. All the stars in heaven are bright and beautiful, and yet one star exceeds another star in glory. So also all texts of Scripture are inspired and profitable, and yet some texts are richer than others. Of such texts the first verse before us is preeminently one. Never was there a fuller testimony borne to Christ upon earth, than that which is here borne by John the Baptist.
   Let us notice, firstly, in this passage, the peculiar name which John the Baptist gives to Christ. He calls Him “The Lamb of God.”
   This name did not merely mean, as some have supposed, that Christ was meek and gentle as a lamb. This would be truth no doubt, but only a very small portion of the truth. There are greater things here than this! It meant that Christ was the great sacrifice for sin, who was come to make atonement for transgression by His own death upon the cross. He was the true Lamb which Abraham told Isaac at Moriah God would provide. (Gen. xxii. 8.) He was the true Lamb to which every morning and evening sacrifice in the temple had daily pointed. He was the Lamb of which Isaiah had prophesied, that He would be “brought to the slaughter.” (Isaiah liii. 7.) He was the true Lamb of which the passover lamb in Egypt had been a vivid type. In short, He was the great propitiation for sin which God had covenanted from all eternity to send into the world. He was God’s Lamb.
   Let us take heed that in all our thoughts of Christ, we first think of Him as John the Baptist here represents Him. Let us serve him faithfully as our Master. Let us obey Him loyally as our King. Let us study His teaching as our Prophet. Let us walk diligently after Him as our Example. Let us look anxiously for Him as our coming Redeemer of body as well as soul. But above all, let us prize Him as our Sacrifice, and rest our whole weight on His death as an atonement for sin. Let His blood be more precious in our eyes every year we live. Whatever else we glory in about Christ, let us glory above all things in His cross. This is the corner-stone, this is the citadel, this is the rule of true Christian theology. We know nothing rightly about Christ, until we see him with John the Baptist’s eyes, and can rejoice in Him as “the Lamb that was slain.”
   Let us notice, secondly, in this passage, the peculiar work which John the Baptist describes Christ as doing. He says that “he taketh away the sin of the world.”
   Christ is a Saviour. He did not come on earth to be a conqueror, or a philosopher, or a mere teacher of morality. He came to save sinners. He came to do that which man could never do for himself,—to do that which money and learning can never obtain,—to do that which is essential to man’s real happiness,—He came to “take away sin.”
   Christ is a complete Saviour. He “takes away sin.” He did not merely make vague proclamations of pardon, mercy, and forgiveness. He “took” our sins upon Himself, and carried them away. He allowed them to be laid upon Himself, and “bore them in His own body on the tree.” (1 Pet. ii. 24.) The sins of every one that believes on Jesus are made as though they had never been sinned at all. The Lamb of God has taken them clean away.
   Christ is an almighty Saviour, and a Saviour for all mankind. He “takes away the sin of the world.” He did not die for the Jews only, but for the Gentile as well as the Jew. He did not suffer for a few people only, but for all mankind. The payment that He made on the cross was more than enough to make satisfaction for the debts of all. The blood that He shed was precious enough to wash away the sins of all. His atonement on the cross was sufficient for all mankind, though efficient only to those who believe. The sin that He took up and bore on the cross was the sin of the whole world.
   Last, but not least, Christ is a perpetual and unwearied Saviour. He “takes away” sin. He is daily taking it away from every one that believes on Him,—daily purging, daily cleansing, daily washing the souls of His people, daily granting and applying fresh supplies of mercy. He did not cease to work for His saints, when He died for them on the cross. He lives in heaven as a Priest, to present His sacrifice continually before God. In grace as well as is providence, Christ works still. He is ever taking away sin.
   These are golden truths indeed. Well would it be for the Church of Christ, if they were used by all who know them! Our very familiarity with texts like these is one of our greatest dangers. Blessed are they who not only keep this text in their memories, but feed upon it in their hearts!
   Let us notice, lastly, in this passage, the peculiar office which John the Baptist attributes to Christ. He speaks of Him as Him “who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.”
   The baptism here spoken of is not the baptism of water. It does not consist either of dipping or sprinkling. It does not belong exclusively either to infants or to grown up people. It is not a baptism which any man can give, Episcopalian or Presbyterian, Independent or Methodist, layman or minister. It is a baptism which the great Head of the Church keeps exclusively in His own hands. It consists of the implanting of grace into the inward man. It is the same thing with the new birth. It is a baptism, not of the body, but of the heart. It is a baptism which the penitent thief received, though neither dipped nor sprinkled by the hand of man. It is a baptism which Ananias and Sapphira did not receive, though admitted into church-communion by apostolic men.
   Let it be a settled principle in our religion that the baptism of which John the Baptist speaks here, is the baptism which is absolutely necessary to salvation. It is well to be baptized into the visible Church; but it is far better to be baptized into that Church which is made up of true believers. The baptism of water is a most blessed and profitable ordinance, and cannot be neglected without great sin. But the baptism of the Holy Spirit is of far greater importance. The man who dies with his heart not baptized by Christ can never be saved.
   Let us ask ourselves, as we leave this passage, Whether we are baptized with the Holy Spirit, and whether we have any real interest in the Lamb of God? Thousands, unhappily, are wasting their time in controversy about water baptism, and neglecting the baptism of the heart. Thousands more are content with a head-knowledge of the Lamb of God, or have never sought Him by faith, that their own sins may be actually taken away. Let us take heed that we ourselves have new hearts, and believe to the saving of our souls.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:54–58.

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Last Monday I promised a post on Fighter Planes and Submarines, and how the church ought to take note of how they work and why. Rather than fully develop that theme, I chose to sow a seed for thought and pick it up later. Looking back on that post, I’d say I was so vague as to plant no seed at all. Call this a second attempt.

Disclaimer: As will be obvious, I am not expert in military tactics. I make no claim even to being well-read as a civilian interested in the subject. Nevertheless, I think I know enough for my purposes here.

Fighter planes don’t go up with the ultimate purpose of dueling with enemy fighters. There is an ultimate objective. Air forces fight for control of the skies; navies fight for control of the seas; the object of both is victory on land.

Fighter planes are sent to attack bombers. Bombing missions are therefore escorted by fighters for defense. The purpose of the fighters is, on the one side, to defend the target against the bombers, and on the other side, to protect the bombers and enable them to successfully reach their target.

Fighter planes, carrying missiles or bombs, are themselves used against primary targets. Again, enemy fighters are used to defend against those attacks.

Fighter planes are used to attack shipping convoys. The purpose of these attacks is not simply to sink ships, but to prevent the ships from delivering their cargo — troops, supplies, firepower (in the case of battleships and aircraft carriers) — to their destinations.

At sea, submarines serve a purpose similar to fighter aircraft. If you saw the movie (or better yet, read the book) The Hunt for Red October, you’re aware of two types of submarines: missile subs, and attack subs. The purpose of missile subs is to covertly sneak within missile range of land-based targets and deliver their missiles. In Red October, attack subs were used to hunt down the missile sub by that name (hence the title . . .). The usual purpose of attack subs is to attack ships. Consequently, there are then attack subs hunting other attack subs. Furthermore, naval convoys carry helicopters for the purpose of hunting subs.

Complicated enough yet? I could go on and on with this theme but, in short, war often involves battles within battles within battles, the purpose of which is only ancillary to the overall conflict.

What if military commanders lost sight of the big picture? What if aircraft carriers simply launched fighters on mission after mission just to engage in aerial dogfights, air and naval battles were fought for their own sake, and pilots and submarine commanders chalked up kill after kill, but supported no land-based objective? Individual combatants could boast of great accomplishments, but no victory would ever be won.

To be continued . . .

It’s another busy week, I’m afraid, and the blog will have to wait in line. In the mean time, here’s some fun viewing from the History Channel in keeping with yesterday’s topic.

Dogfights - P-51 Mustang
    Part 1 (9:57)
    Part 2 (9:56)
    Part 3 (9:58)
    Part 4 (8:31)
    Part 5 (6:20)

In lieu of a real blog post today, I’m going to just throw out a provocative statement and leave. It’ll be kind of like that 22 Words blog, if you don’t count this introduction. I might write more on this some other time, or I might not. So here you go; do with it as you wish.

God is not going to judge America for her rampant immorality (e.g., abortion, homosexuality, etc.).

Tom Ascol and John Calvin on sin, and God’s simultaneous love and hatred toward sinners:

   God’s response toward all sinners is anger and opposition. His wrath is provoked and stored up against all sin.
   The distinction that Roman Catholicism makes between venial and mortal sins is baseless. While Protestants rightly reject that kind of distinction theologically, it often subtly informs much of their thinking about sin and judgment. Many are under the false impression that God’s wrath in general, or hell in particular, is reserved for those guilty of “major sins,” such as Adolf Hitler or Saddam Hussein. Lesser sinners are tempted to hope that their case is significantly different. This is why even the title of Jonathan Edwards’ famous sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” so often evokes scorn. It is assumed that while it might be conceivable that some sinners would be in that horrible position, surely it is not true of all.
   To this Calvin answers, “Every sin is a deadly sin!” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 2.8.59.] In saying this, he was merely echoing the prophet Ezekiel, who teaches, “the soul who sins shall die” (18:4, 20), and the apostle Paul, who writes in Romans 6:23, “The wages of sin is death.” Calvin exhorts Christians to acknowledge this fundamental, vital point of biblical teaching: “Let the children of God hold that all sin is mortal. For it is rebellion against the will of God, which of necessity provokes God’s wrath, and it is a violation of the law, upon which God’s judgment is pronounced without exception.” [ibid.]
   This is true even for those whom God chose before the foundation of the world to receive salvation (Eph. 1:4). Though they are the objects of eternal, divine love, they are nevertheless liable to God’s anger because of their sin. Paul reminds the Ephesians of this fact when he writes that Christians were “by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind” (2:3). This means that, before their conversion, the elect are both deeply loved by God and at enmity with Him. Calvin explains the matter quite starkly by quoting Augustine after invoking Romans 5:8:

Therefore, [God] loved us even when we practiced enmity toward him and committed wickedness. Thus in a marvelous and divine way he loved us even when he hated us. For he hated us for what we were that he had not made; yet because our wickedness had not entirely consumed his handiwork, he knew how, at the same time, to hate in each one of us what we had made, and to love what he had made. [Ibid., 2.14.4.]

—Thomas K. Ascol, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 160–161.

Are you a Calvinist?
Take the test.
I scored 81%.

The final question makes it worth your time.

HT: Pure Church.

(image source)

These are just a couple of loose thoughts rattling around in my head this morning.1

• Item One:

  This was brought to my attention twice in one day (Thursday, to be precise). I take that to be a sign from God that I must comment on it. First, I heard it on the radio. As I seldom listen to the radio, that must be significant. Then, I was reminded in print2. Since “in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established,”3 I take this as an “anointing of the spirit”4 to share a “word of knowledge”4. And, today being Saturday, this is as good a time as any to share my wisdom. Prepare for the profundity.

  Anyone who can sing “Easy like a Sunday Morning”5 has obviously never gotten eight (or even one or two) children ready for church on Sunday.6

  If that requires any explanation, you should perhaps consider a life of celibacy.

• Item Two:

  This year marks the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing, or perhaps I should say, alleged moon landing. No, I’m kidding; but God, in his loving providence, has given us some entertaining folks who are not. More proof of his providence is that this was captured on video. I’m not saying what Aldrin did was right; I am saying that viewing it provided me with a moment of schadenfreude7 for which I have yet to feel convicted.

• Item Three:

  I like lists and footnotes.8

1 Yes, you may say it: along with a couple of loose screws.

2 You won’t see it in this link, but the text that came through my Google reader was “Easy like a Sunday Morning.”

3 Matthew 18:16. Yes, I know I am ripping it violently out of context. Believe it or not, I’m only following a precedent I’ve encountered in using this verse.

4 You may insert one of those rolling-eyes emoticons here, if your religion allows.

5 A truly horrible song, second in horribleness only to We’ll Sing in the Sunshine.

6 No, ladies, I don’t have to be a mom to know that.

7 A word that makes me look scholarly.

8 Footnotes add to the illusion of scholarshipliness. Lists give the appearance of orderly, structured thinking.*

* Footnoting a footnote is taking it a bit too far.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

PETITIONARY HYMNS
POEM XVII.
Augustus Toplady (1740–1778)

O may I never rest
   Till I find rest in thee;
’Till of my pardon here possess’d
   I feel thy love to me!
Unseal my darken’d eyes,
   My fetter’d feet unbind,
The lame shall, when thou say’st “Arise,”
   Run swifter than the hind.

O draw the alien near,
   Bend the obdurate neck,
O melt the flint into a tear,
   And teach the dumb to speak:
Turn not thy face away.
   Thy look can make me clean;
Me in thy wedding robe array,
   And cover all my sin.

Tell me, my God, for whom
   Thy precious blood was shed;
For sinners! Lord, as such I come,
   For such the Saviour bled:
Then raise a fallen wretch,
   Display thy grace in me!
I am not out of mercy’s reach,
   Nor too far gone for thee.

Thou quickly wilt forgive,
   My Lord will not delay;
Jesus, to thee the time I leave,
   And wait the accepted day:
I now rejoice in hope
   That I shall be made clean:
Thy grace shall surely lift me up
   Above the reach of sin.

Hast thou not died for me,
   And call’d me from below!
O help me to lay hold on thee,
   And ne’er to let ,thee go!
Though on the billows toss’d,
   My Saviour I’ll pursue:
Awhile submit to bear his cross,
   Then share his glory too.

—The Complete Works of Augustus Toplady (Sprinkle Publications, 1987).

John 1:35–42
Andrew and Peter follow Christ

These verses ought always to be interesting to every true Christian. They describe the first beginnings of the Christian Church. Vast as that church is now, there was a time when it consisted of only two weak members. The calling of those two members is described in the passage which is now before our eyes.
   We see, for one thing, in these verses, what good is done by continually testifying of Christ.
   The first time that John the Baptist cried, “Behold the Lamb of God,” no result appears to have followed. We are not told of any who heard, inquired, and believed. But when he repeated the same words the next day, we read that two of his disciples “heard him speak and followed Jesus.” They were received most graciously by Him whom they followed. “They came and saw where he dwelt, and abode with him that day.” Truly it was a day in their lives most eventful, and most blessed! From that day they became fast and firm disciples of the new-found Messiah. They took up the cross. They continued with Him in His temptations. They followed Him wherever He went. One of them at least, if not both, became a chosen apostle, and a master builder in the Christian temple. And all was owing to John the Baptist’s testimony, “Behold the lamb of God.” That testimony was a little seed. But it bore mighty fruits.
   This simple story is a pattern of the way in which good has been done to souls in every age of the Christian Church. By such testimony as that before us, and by none else, men and women are converted and saved. It is by exalting Christ, not the church,—Christ, not the sacraments,—Christ, not the ministry,—it is by this means that hearts are moved, and sinners are turned to God. To the world such testimony may seem weakness and foolishness. Yet, like the ram’s horns, before whose blast the walls of Jericho fell down, this testimony is mighty to the pulling down of strongholds. The story of the crucified Lamb of God has proved in every age, the power of God unto salvation. Those who have done most for Christ’s cause in every part of the world, have been men like John the Baptist. They have not cried, Behold me, or Behold the church, or Behold the ordinances, but “Behold the Lamb.” If souls are to be saved, men must be pointed directly to Christ.
   One thing, however, must never be forgotten. There must be patient continuance in preaching and teaching the truth, if we want good to be done. Christ must be set forth again and again, as the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” The story of grace must be told repeatedly,—line upon line, and precept upon precept. It is the constant dropping which wears away the stone. The promise shall never be broken, that “God’s word shall not return unto him void.” (Isaiah lv. 11.) But it is nowhere said that it shall do good the very first time that it is preached. It was not the first proclamation of John the Baptist, but the second, which made Andrew and his companion follow Jesus.
   We see, for another thing, what good a believer may do to others, by speaking to them about Christ.
   No sooner does Andrew become a disciple, than he tells his brother Simon what a discovery he has made. Like one who has unexpectedly heard good tidings, he hastens to impart it to the one nearest and dearest to him. He says to his brother, “We have found the Messias,” and he “brings him to Jesus.” Who can tell what might have happened if Andrew had been of a silent, reserved, and uncommunicative spirit, like many a Christian in the present day? Who can tell but his brother might have lived and died a fisherman on the Galilean lake? But happily for Simon, Andrew was not a man of this sort. He was one whose heart was so full that he must speak.
   And to Andrew’s out-spoken testimony, under God, the great apostle Peter owed the first beginning of light in his soul.
   The fact before us is most striking and instructive. Out of the three first members of the Christian Church, one at least was brought to Jesus, by the private, quiet word of a relative. He seems to have heard no public preaching. He saw no mighty miracle wrought. He was not convinced by any powerful reasoning. He only heard his brother telling him that he had found a Saviour himself, and at once the work began in his soul. The simple testimony of a warm-hearted brother was the first link in the chain by which Peter was drawn out of the world, and joined to Christ. The first blow in that mighty work by which Peter was made a pillar of the Church, was struck by Andrew’s words, “We have found the Christ.”
   Well would it be for the Church of Christ, if all believers were more like Andrew! Well would it be for souls if all men and women who have been converted themselves, would speak to their friends and relatives on spiritual subjects, and tell them what they have found! How much good might be done! How many might be led to Jesus, who now live and die in unbelief! The work of testifying the Gospel of the grace of God ought not to be left to ministers alone. All who have received mercy ought to find a tongue, and to declare what God has done for their souls. All who have been delivered from the power of the devil, ought to “go home and tell their friends what great things God has done for them.” (Mark v. 19.) Thousands, humanly speaking, would listen to a word from a friend, who will not listen to a sermon. Every believer ought to be a home-missionary, a missionary to his family, children, servants, neighbors, and friends. Surely, if we can find nothing to say to others about Jesus, we may well doubt whether we are savingly acquainted with Him ourselves.
   Let us take heed that we are among those who really follow Christ, and abide with Him. It is not enough to hear Him preached from the pulpit, and to read of Him as described in books. We must actually follow Him, pour out our hearts before Him, and hold personal communion with Him. Then, and not until then, we shall feel constrained to speak of Him to others. The man who only knows Christ by the hearing of the ear, will never do much for the spread of Christ’s cause in the earth.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:68–70.

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Parenting is the greatest of hum-a-few-bars-and-I’ll-fake-it skills. —Stephen King, Duma Key

If the Bible is to be believed — and you know I believe it is — the statement above is patently false. At the same time, however, I believe it’s true, in a way, and biblical.

What do you think? That is, Besides “What? Stephen King? . . .”

A final word from Charnock on the omnipresence of God:

   Let us endeavor for the more special and influential presence of God. Let the essential presence of God be our the ground of our awe, and his gracious influential presence the object of our desire. The heathen thought themselves secure they had their pretty household gods with them in their journeys: such seem to be the images Rachel stole from her father (Gen. xxxi. 19) to company her travel with blessings: she might not at that time have cast off all her respect to those idols, in the acknowledgment of which she had been educated from her infancy; and they seem to be kept by her till God called Jacob to bethel, after the rape of Dinah (Gen. xxxv. 4), when Jacob called for the strange gods, and hid them under the oak. The gracious presence of God we should look after, in our actions, as travelers, that have a charge of money or jewels, desire to keep themselves in company that may protect them from highwaymen that would rifle them. Since we have the concerns of the eternal happiness of our souls upon our hands, we should endeavor to have God’s merciful and powerful presence with us in all our ways (Ps. xiv. 5); “In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths:” acknowledge him before any action, by imploring; acknowledge him after, by rendering him the glory; acknowledge his presence before worship, in worship, after worship: it is this presence makes a kind of heaven upon earth; causeth affliction to put off the nature of misery. How much will the presence of the sun outshine the stars of lesser comforts, and fully answer the want of them! The ark of God going before us, can only make all things successful. It was this led the Israelites over Jordan, and settled them in Canaan. Without this we signify nothing: though we live without this, we cannot be distinguished forever from devils; his essential presence they have; and if we have no more, we shall be no better. It is the enlivening fructifying presence of the sun that revives the languishing earth; and this only can repair our ruined soul. Let it be, therefore, our desire, that as He fills heaven and earth by Hiss essence, he may fill our understanding and wills by his grace, that we may have another kind of presence with us than animals have in their brutish state, or devils in their chains: his essential presence maintains our beings, but his gracious presence confers and continues a happiness.

—Stephen Charnock, The Existence and Attributes of God (Baker Books, 2005), 1:405.

I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: I love Puritan titles; you never have to wonder what you’re about to read. And if the main title isn’t enough, the chapter titles fill in even more details.

Having completed “Our arguments whereby we prove that the supreme decision in interpreting scripture belongs not to the church, but to the scriptures themselves and to the Holy Spirit,” William Whitaker addresses “The state of the question, concerning the means of finding the true sense of scripture.” The first means he lists is one that ought to be the easiest, but I’m afraid is likely to be the most neglected.

   In the first place, prayer is necessary for reading the scriptures so as to understand them; and on that account David so often begs of God to illuminate his mind and to open his eyes; and, in Matth. vii. Christ says, “Ask, and it shall be given you: seek, and ye shall find: knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” And James, chap. i. v. 5, says: “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him.” Whence a certain father said, that he profited more in the knowledge of scripture by prayer, than by reading and study. And Origen, in his 12th Homily on Exodus, says that we must not only apply study in order to learn the sacred word, but also supplicate God and entreat him night and day, that the Lamb of the tribe of Juda may come, and, taking himself the sealed book, vouchsafe to open it. Augustine too, in his book De Scala Paradisi, c. 2, writes thus admirably upon this subject: “Reading inquires, meditation finds, prayer asks, contemplation tastes: whence the Lord himself says, ‘Seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.’ Seek by reading, and ye shall find in meditation: knock by prayer, and it shall be opened to you in contemplation. Reading does, as it were, set the solid food at the lips; meditation breaks and chews it; prayer gains a relish; and contemplation is the very sweetness itself which gives us pleasure and refreshment. Reading is in the rind, meditation in the marrow,, prayer in the demand of desire, contemplation in the delight of the sweetness now acquired.” Thus far Augustine. And Jerome says to Læta: “Let reading follow prayer, and prayer reading.” This should be always the first means, and the foundation of the rest.

—William Whitaker, Disputations on the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 2005), 467–468.

Tom Ascol and John Calvin on expiation (the taking away of sin, not to be confused with propitiation):

   Christ accomplished [expiation] in His death. Paul writes that it was “while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son” (Rom. 5:10). What Jesus did on the cross removed the cause of the breach in the relationship between God and sinners. His death expiated our sins.
   Calvin’s comments on the announcement of John the Baptist upon seeing Jesus for the first time (John 1:29) underscore this truth. Calvin writes:

The principal office of Christ is briefly but clearly stated; that he takes away the sins of the world by the sacrifice of his death, and reconciles men to God. There are other favors, indeed, which Christ bestows upon us, but this is the chief favor, and the rest depend on it; that, by appeasing the wrath of God, he makes us to be reckoned holy and righteous. For from this source flow all the streams of blessings, that, by not imputing our sins, he receives us into favor. Accordingly, John, in order to conduct us to Christ, commences with the gratuitous forgiveness of sins which we obtain through him. [John Calvin, Commentary on the Gospel According to John, 1:63.]

   In the old covenant, expiation of sins was portrayed by means of animal sacrifices. All of the ceremony surrounding the sacrificial offerings was designed to point to the work of Christ on the cross. Calvin elaborates:

The sacrifice was offered in such a manner as to expiate sin by enduring its punishment and curse. This was expressed by the priests by means of the laying on of hands, as if they threw on the sacrifice the sins of the whole nation. (Exodus 29:15) And if a private individual offered a sacrifice, he also laid his hand upon it, as if he threw upon it his own sin. Our sins were thrown upon Christ in such a manner that he alone bore the curse. . . . [This describes] the benefit of Christ’s death, that by his sacrifice sins were expiated, and God was reconciled towards men. [John Calvin, Commentary on the Prophet Isaiah, 4:124–125.]

—Thomas K. Ascol, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 164–165.

This is review is courtesy of my pastor, Jerry Drebelbis. The book in review, The Advent of Evangelicalism: Exploring Historical Continuities, can be purchased here, or you may download the table of contents and a sample chapter here.

The Advent of Evangelicalism: Exploring Historical Continuities:1
A review by Jerome Drebelbis

   At first glance Haykin and Stewart’s edited analytical essays on David Bebbington’s 1989 work, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1960s, is rather daunting covering 432 pages. But moving into the various analyses from different scholar’s perspective proved both profitable and interesting. Value in reading such an analysis can be found on several levels.

Analysis of a classic:
   Now some twenty years after publication Bebbington’s work is considered a classic. His study and analysis of evangelical movement, thought and doctrine as influenced by Enlightenment philosophy is considered by some a “seminal study of great importance.”2 Because of the importance of Bebbington’s study a second look is always worthwhile. Thus Haykin and Stewart’s edited volume is both timely and valuable. Every contributor goes to great length to examine various aspects of Bebbington’s thesis. Did evangelicalism begin in the mid-eighteenth century? Just how influential, if at all, were Enlightenment philosophers on Christian theology and practice? Can the evangelical movement truly be characterized by Bebbington’s “quadrilateral” elements, biblicist, conversionist, cruciform and activist?
   These and other issues are brought to the forefront for analysis as each contributor examines one or more of the elements and attempts to answer the question. Did evangelicalism being in the mid-eighteenth century and can it be typified by these four elements? How each contributor approached the topics proved interesting and fully worthwhile both from an historical standpoint but also from a theological perspective. Each contributor assists in bringing precision to Bebbinton’s thesis but even more so gives sharper focus to the time period and preceding factors.

Organization:
   To answer these questions and bring precision to the issue, The Advent of Evangelicalism is very nicely organized into four sections (it’s own “quadralateral” if you will); an introduction, a geographical regional perspectives, analysis of eras, and finally from a doctrinal (or theological) analysis. In each case the contributor was quite thorough, given subject limitations, in his analysis providing copious quotations and bibliographical references. Thus, we’re given a broad viewpoint of the evangelical movement both synchronically and diachronically. This was very helpful in that the reader is given a better understanding of the evangelical movement not only in a particular country but also through time.

Theological:
   The main theme in Bebbington’s work was that Enlightenment thought and its philosophers heavily influenced evangelicals. Of particular interest was the contributor’s discussion on theological diversity and continuity within the period and their understanding of thought and theology as it related to the Enlightenment. This discussion was very beneficial to those of us who normally do not study the movement or evolution of theological thought from one century to another. Most helpful was the analysis of various denominational distinctions and how they may or may not have been influenced by enlightenment ideas. For example John Coffey notes that the differences were more a matter of “one of degree,” and “even the politics of evangelicalism owed much to Puritanism.”3

Conclusion:
   The Advent of Evangelicalism gives us a better understanding of ecclesiastical history not only of the 18th century but the time leading up to it. Examining the subject from a broader chronological perspective, regional differences and theological standpoints was very beneficial. But in another sense the work is also comforting. The reader is given a better understanding that historically and theologically evangelicalism’s roots are not necessarily tainted with humanistic enlightenment as we may be led to believe. Rather the roots from which evangelicals are born are from sound theological thought emanating from centuries prior as the Holy Spirit worked in and through his Church in time and events.

1 Haykin, Michael, A.G. & Stewart, Kenneth J., The Advent of Evangelicalism: Exploring Historical Continuities: B&H Publishing Group, Nashville, 2008 ↑ 

2 ibid, p. 13 ↑ 

3 Ibid, pg. 269 ↑ 

When can we stop pretending that Islam is a “religion of peace,” and publicly acknowledge it as a genuine threat to all civilization? Now, maybe?

Jimmy Carter is a hot topic lately, having apostatized from the SBC over their misogynist policies. Southern Baptists are naturally interested, but old Jimmy’s even got the attention of at least one Lutheran. And Dan wraps up my thoughts pretty well. I’ll just add one comment: So? He’s undeniably the worst former President in history, and now the former worst President in history (note the clever word-play there). Should we expect him to be a great theologian?

In another not-so-strange moment, on a program featuring the non-stop, simultaneous, incoherent babbling of five silly women, Whoopi Goldberg admits that conspiracy theories of the alleged moon landings do make her wonder. (HT: Fred, who offers this in Whoopi’s defense.)

I hate hearing the derisive expression, “That’s gay,” or the more emphatic “That is so gay.” The folks at ThinkB4YouSpeak.com agree. Well, actually, they don’t. When I ask, “When you say ‘That’s so gay,’ do you realize what you say?” — and I do ask, if I know the offending party sufficiently well — I mean, and say, Do you really think sodomy is involved here? Is that the picture you want to paint? Because, unless you mean “exuberantly happy,” that’s exactly what you’re saying. Would you like me to elaborate on what that means? No? Then ThinkB4YouSpeak, indeed. (HT: Frank)

Here is an echo of my thoughts on boycotts. The money quote:

It is easy, it is without cost, to refrain from drinking Pepsi and send them them emails explaining your moral outrage. Now, put your money where your mouth is. The United States of America collects taxes, some of which goes to funding legal partial-birth abortions. If you think the dyslexic sexuality (I wish I could remember who came up with that description) of gay people is bad, how much worse is infanticide? Quit paying your taxes and boycott a country that funds killing babies if you think boycotts are the way the Kingdom is grown. (I hear crickets chirping.) “But I have to pay taxes” you say. No you don’t. You will go to jail if you don’t. It will cost you and your family unlike switching from Pepsi to Coke and sending Pepsi a few emails. So, do your really think boycotts are the way to go out into the world with the Good News to the glory of the Triune God?

The citizens of the state of my birth had me shaking my head when they elected The Body governor in 1999. But when the land of 10,000 flakes elected Al Franken to the Senate, they confirmed once and for all what I already knew: Minnesota is no longer peopled primarily by level-headed, hard-working Scandinavians. Anyway, it terrifies me to think of Franken as a member of the Senate Judiciary Committee. But that’s not what I’m after here. I want to correct a misconception that came up in an exchange between Franken and Judge Sonia Sotomayor during the Sotomayor nomination rubber-stamping hearings: that the right to privacy is not in the Constitution. It is, in the same way that the Trinity is in the Bible. Check the Fourth Amendment.

Finally, here is something that is unconstitutional: in case you’re interested, here’s a list of who has gotten financial bailout (TARP) money so far.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

Applying for Relief to the All-Sufficiency of Christ
Samuel Davies (1723–1761)

I hear the counsel of a Friend;
To the kind voice, my soul, attend.
“Come, sinners, wretched, blind, and poor,
Come, draw from My unbounded store.”

“I only ask you to receive,
For freely I My blessings give.”
Jesus, and are thy treasurers free,
Then I may dare to come to Thee?

I come for grace, that gold refined,
To enrich and beautify my mind,
Grace that will trials well endure,
By trials more divinely pure.

Naked I come for that bright dress,
Thy perfect spotless righteousness,
That glorious robe, so richly dyed
In Thine own blood, my shame to hide.

Like Bartimaeus, Lord, to Thee
I come; oh, give the blind to see!
E’en clay is eye-salve in Thine hand,
If Thou the blessing but command.

Poor, naked, blind I hither came,
Oh, let me not depart the same!
Let me return, all-gracious Lord,
Enriched, adorned, to sight restored.

—Worthy Is the Lamb (Soli Deo Gloria, 2004).

John 1:43–51
Phillip and Nathanael Follow Christ

Let us observe, as we read these verses, how various are the paths by which souls are led into the narrow way of life.
   We are told of a man, named Philip, being added to the little company of Christ’s disciples. He does not appear to have been moved, like Andrew and his companions, by the testimony of John the Baptist. He was not drawn, like Simon Peter, by the out-spoken declaration of a brother. He seems to have been called directly by Christ Himself, and the agency of man seems not to have been used in his calling. Yet in faith and life he became one with those who were disciples before him. Though led by different paths, they all entered the same road, embraced the same truths, served the same Master, and at length reached the same home.
   The fact before us is a deeply important one. It throws light on the history of all God’s people in every age, and of every tongue. There are diversities of operations in the saving of souls. All true Christians are led by one Spirit, washed in one blood, serve one Lord, lean on one Saviour, believe one truth, and walk by one general rule. But all are not converted in one and the same manner. All do not pass through the same experience. In conversion, the Holy Spirit acts as a sovereign. He calleth every one severally as He will.
   A careful recollection of this point may save us much trouble. We must beware of making the experience of other believers the measure of our own. We must beware of denying another’s grace, because he has not been led by the same way as ourselves. Has a man got the real grace of God? This is the only question that concerns us.—Is he a penitent man? Is he a believer? Does he live a holy life?—Provided these inquiries can be answered satisfactorily, we may well be content. It matters nothing by what path a man has been led, if he has only been led at last into the right way.
   Let us observe, secondly, in these verses, how much of Christ there is in the Old Testament Scriptures. We read that when Philip described Christ to Nathanael, he says, “We have found Him of whom Moses in the law and the prophets did write.”
   Christ is the sum and substance of the Old Testament. To Him the earliest promises pointed in the days of Adam, and Enoch, and Noah, and Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob. To Him every sacrifice pointed in the ceremonial worship appointed at Mount Sinai. Of Him every high priest was a type, and every part of the tabernacle was a shadow, and every judge and deliverer of Israel was a figure. He was the prophet like unto Moses, whom the Lord God promised to send, and the King of the house of David, who came to be David’s Lord as well as son. He was the Son of the virgin, and the Lamb, foretold by Isaiah,—the righteous Branch mentioned by Jeremiah,—the true Shepherd, foreseen by Ezekiel,—the Messenger of the Covenant, promised by Malachi,—and the Messiah, who, according to Daniel, was to be cut off, though not for Himself. The further we read in the volume of the Old Testament, the clearer do we find the testimony about Christ. The light which the inspired writers enjoyed in ancient days was, at best, but dim, compared to that of the Gospel. But the coming Person they all saw afar off, and on whom they all fixed their eyes, was one and the same. The Spirit, which was in them, testified of Christ. (1 Pet. i. 11)
   Do we stumble at this saying? Do we find it hard to see Christ in the Old Testament, because we do not see His name? Let us be sure that the fault is all our own. It is our spiritual vision which is to blame, and not the book. The eyes of our understanding need to be enlightened. The veil has yet to be taken away. Let us pray for a more humble, childlike, and teachable spirit, and let us take up “Moses and the prophets” again. Christ is there, though our eyes may not yet have seen Him. May we never rest until we can subscribe to our Lord’s words about the Old Testament Scriptures, “They are they which testify of me.” (John v. 39.)
   Let us observe, thirdly, in these verses, the good advice which Philip gave to Nathanael. The mind of Nathanael was full of doubts about the Saviour, of whom Philip told Him. “Can there any good thing,” he said, “come out of Nazareth?” And what did Philip reply? He said, “Come and see.”
   Wiser counsel than this it would be impossible to conceive! If Philip had reproved Nathanael’s unbelief, he might have driven him back for many a day, and given offence. If he had reasoned with him, he might have failed to convince him, or might have confirmed him in his doubts. But by inviting him to prove the matter for himself, he showed his entire confidence in the truth of his own assertion, and his willingness to have it tested and proved. And the result shows the wisdom of Philip’s words. Nathanael owed his early acquaintance with Christ to that frank invitation, “Come and see.”
   If we call ourselves true Christians, let us never be afraid to deal with people about their souls as Philip dealt with Nathanael. Let us invite them boldly to make proof of our religion. Let us tell them confidently that they cannot know its real value until they have tried it. Let us assure them that vital Christianity courts every possible inquiry. It has no secrets. It has nothing to conceal. Its faith and practice are spoken against, just because they are not known. Its enemies speak evil of things with which they are not acquainted. They understand neither what they say nor whereof they affirm. Philip’s mode of dealing, we may be sure, is one principal way to do good. Few are ever moved by reasoning and argument. Still fewer are frightened into repentance. The man who does most good to souls, is often the simple believer who says to his friends, “I have found a Saviour; come and see Him.”
   Let us observe, lastly, in these verses, the high character which Jesus gives of Nathanael. He calleth him “an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.”
   Nathanael, there can be no doubt, was a true child of God, and a child of God in difficult times. He was one of a very little flock. Like Simeon and Anna, and other pious Jews, he was living by faith and waiting prayerfully for the promised Redeemer, when our Lord’s ministry began. He had that which grace alone can give, an honest heart, a heart without guile. His knowledge was probably small. His spiritual eyesight was dim. But he was one who had lived carefully up to his light. He had diligently used such knowledge as he possessed. His eye had been single, though his vision had not been strong. His spiritual judgment had been honest, though it had not been powerful. What he saw in Scripture, he had held firmly, in spite of Pharisees and Sadducees, and all the fashionable religion of the day. He was an honest Old Testament believer, who had stood alone. And here was the secret of our Lord peculiar commendation! He declared Nathanael to be a true son of Abraham,—a Jew inwardly, possessing circumcision in the spirit as well as in the letter,—an Israelite in heart, as well as a son of Jacob in the flesh.
   Let us pray that we may be of the same spirit as Nathanael. An honest, unprejudiced mind,—a child-like willingness to follow the truth, wherever the truth may lead us,—a simple, hearty desire to be guided, taught, and led by the Spirit,—a thorough determination to use every spark of light which we have,—are a possession of priceless value. A man of this spirit may live in the midst of much darkness, and be surrounded by every possible disadvantage to his soul. But the Lord Jesus will take care that such a man does not miss the way to heaven. “The meek will he guide in judgment: and the meek will he teach his way.” (Psalm xxv. 9.)

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007), 3:76–80

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Eric Carpenter likes something about Jehovah’s Witnesses. He has observed that they are apparently more integrated than most Christian churches. Why? he asks. I’m sure I don’t know, but if I was to guess, I’d say it’s due more to their small numbers than anything else.

All people tend to gravitate towards like people. Ethnic differences are not limited to appearance; they include cultural differences, as well. I don’t think this is primarily due to racism. It’s just the way we are. If a group of people, let’s say Christians, gets large enough, it will begin splitting into sub-cultures. This is not inherently a bad thing, but it ought not to be so in the church. We should be united in one commonality: our common faith.

And here’s another thought about JW unity: maybe their one commonality — their religion — so dominates their thinking that differences among them fade away. I don’t know if that’s true of them, but it should be of us.

To draw an analogy, consider Major League Baseball. In any given game, you’ll see men of diverse ethnicities, personalities, religions, etc. on the diamond. It is possible that a team could be comprised of players who have nothing at all in common save one: baseball. And they take the field united in one purpose: to win the game.

Let it be so with us. Let our adoption as joint-heirs with Jesus and the commission he has given us be everything as we gather and live and work together.

The following single sentence from Charnock, inspired by Psalm 147:5, is worthy of a post all by itself, and an excellent truth upon which to meditate.

Nothing doth so much delight a gracious soul, as an opportunity of celebrating the perfections and goodness of the Creator.

—Stephen Charnock, The Existence and Attributes of God (Baker Books, 2005), 1:406.

I have frequently been amazed by ridiculous interpretations of Scripture of people who isolate single verses or passages from their contexts. I have been greatly dismayed at times to discover that I have done the same thing. It makes me feel only slightly better to know that I’m not alone, and that, as William Whitaker writes, “Indeed, the ancients frequently fell into mistakes from not attending to the series and connection of the text.”

[W]e ought to consider the scope, end, matter, circumstances (that is, as Augustine says, the persons, place and time), the antecedents and consequents of each passage; and by this means it will be no hard matter both to refute many errors, and to arrive at a clear understanding of those things which seemed at first obscure. The Rhemists conclude from 1 Pet iv. 8, (where Peter writes, that charity covers the multitude of sins,) that charity hath the power of taking away and extinguishing sins, and thereby of justifying us before God; and therefore, that faith alone does not justify. Now, if we consider the occasion, scope, preceding and following context, and the other circumstances of this passage, we shall find that the apostle is not speaking of our charity as justifying us before God or procuring remission of our sins, but of that fraternal love which represses many occasions of offence, and so quenches feuds and enmities amongst brethren. But how shall we understand that this is the sense of the passage? Why, from the context itself. The apostle says, in the words immediately preceding, “having sincere love one towards another.” He is speaking, consequently, of the love wherewith we should embrace and respect our brethren. And, if we compare this place with another, namely, with Prov. x. 12, whence Peter took these words, this will appear still more plainly. There we read thus: “Hatred stirreth up strifes and contentions, but love covereth the multitude of sins:” where, by reason of the antithesis between the first and second clauses of the sentence, the meaning of the latter may easily be gathered from that of the former. Christ says, Matt. xix. 17: “If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.” From this all the papists collect that we are justified by the merit of our works, but, in the meanwhile, they reflect not what sort of person it was to whom Christ said this; a person, namely, who had come to Christ resting upon the opinion of his own righteousness, and, elevated with pride, had asked, what he ought to do to obtain eternal life. Such persons, who trust in their own merits, are deservedly referred to the law; that so they may come to understand how far they are from perfect righteousness. Indeed, the ancients frequently fell into mistakes from not attending to the series and connection of the text.

—William Whitaker, Disputations on the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 2005), 470–471.

Arminians have often caricatured the doctrine of Irresistible Grace as dragging sinners, against their will, into the Kingdom of God. But that is not what any Calvinist believes, and it is certainly not what Calvin himself believed. Keith Mathison writes:

   In 1542, the Dutch Roman Catholic theologian Albert Pighius wrote a work titled Ten Books on Human Free Choice and Divine Grace. Pighius was critiquing Calvin’s teaching on the subject of free will and predestination as found in the 1539 edition of the Institutes. In 1543, Calvin wrote a response to Pighius titled The Bondage and Liberation of the Will. This book contains Calvin’s most extended treatment of the relationship between God’s grace and man’s will. In it, Calvin sums up his argument against Pighius in the following statement:

But all that we say amounts to this. First, that what a person is or has or is capable of is entirely empty and useless for the spiritual righteousness which God requires, unless one is directed to the good by the grace of God. Secondly, that the human will is of itself evil and therefore needs transformation and renewal so that it may begin to be good, but that grace itself is not merely a tool which can help someone if he is pleased to stretch out his hand to [take] it. That is, [God] does not merely offer it, leaving [to man] the choice between receiving it and rejecting it, but he steers the mind to choose what is right, he moves the will also effectively to obedience, he arouses and advances the endeavor until the actual completion of the work is attained. [Calvin, The Bondage and Liberation of the Will: A Defence of the Orthodox Doctrine of Human Choice Against Pighius, 114.]

   Contrary to Pighius, Calvin affirms that grace is efficacious:

[In the Institutes] I say, then, that grace is not offered to us in such a way that afterwards we have the option either to submit or to resist. I say that it is not given merely to aid our weakness by its support as though anything depended on us apart from it. But I demonstrate that it is entirely the work of grace and a benefit conferred by it that our heart is changed from a stony one to one of flesh, that our will is made new, and that we, created anew in heart and mind, at Transforming Grace length will what we ought to will. For Paul bears witness that God does not bring about in us [merely] that we are able to will what is good, but also that we should will it right up to the completion of the act. How big a difference there is between performance and will! Likewise, I determine that our will is effectively formed so that it necessarily follows the leading of the Holy Spirit, and not that it is sufficiently encouraged to be able to do so if it wills. [Ibid., 174.]

   As we see, Calvin clearly taught that in order for man to be saved, the Holy Spirit had to work efficaciously and irresistibly to bring him from a state of spiritual death to spiritual life.
   In his teaching on the subject of saving grace, Calvin merely followed the doctrine set forth in the Scriptures. The doctrine of efficacious grace is necessary because of the state of fallen man. Man is born dead in sin (cf. Rom. 5:12; Eph. 2:1; Col. 2:13), with his mind and heart corrupted (Gen. 6:5; Jer. 17:9; Rom. 8:7–8; 1 Cor. 2:14). He is a slave to sin (Rom. 6:20; Titus 3:3) and therefore unable to repent and come to God (Jer. 13:23; Matt. 7:18; John 6:44, 65). Because of this, man must be born again (John 3:5–7). Those whom God elected and for whom Christ died are brought to life by the Holy Spirit (John 1:12–13; 3:3–8; 5:21; Eph. 2:1, 5; Titus 3:5). God gives them faith and repentance (Acts 5:31; 11:18; 13:48; Eph. 2:8–9; Phil. 1:29; 2 Tim. 2:25–26), and they are justified.

—Keith A. Mathison, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 173–174.

Can Christians lose their salvation? Jesus said no, and that promise is repeated in the New Testament epistles. Yet anecdotes abound of those who have abandoned the faith. Many of us know someone who we believed to be saved, but has gone back to the world. Calvin said “it happens daily.” Is this proof that salvation can be lost? Jay Adams writes:

When, for instance, preachers from the heretical denomination called the Churches of Christ speak of “the possibility of apostasy,” they mean that those who are truly saved may leave the faith, lose their salvation, and turn against the Lord Jesus Christ. Plainly, the Bible speaks about apostasy, but that is not what it means by the word. A very important verse that makes the truth about apostasy clear is 1 John 2:19: “They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us. But they went out, that it might become plain that they all are not of us.”
   In this verse, John is addressing the fact that certain gnostic teachers who had been in the fold had left and had begun teaching their heresy. Previously, they had seemed to be true Christians, because they gave no outward indication of their heretical belief. But their false views of the nature of Christ solidified and came to the fore, and they found that they could no longer fellowship with genuine Christians. So they apostatized and denied that Christ died for our sins.
   In this verse, two important facts emerge. First, those who apostatized were never true believers. John says that by leaving they made it clear that this was so (“they were not of us”). While they had been a part of the visible church, they had never belonged to the invisible church. Their profession of faith was false. This problem of a false profession of faith in Jesus Christ, which we so often encounter in our churches today, was a problem in apostolic times and in the sixteenth century as well. In fact, Calvin describes it as a “daily” occurrence:

Yet it daily happens that those who seemed to be Christ’s, fall away from him again, and hasten to destruction. Indeed, in that same passage, where he declares that none of those whom the Father had given to him perished, he nevertheless excepts the son of perdition [John 17:12]. True indeed, but it is also equally plain that such persons never cleaved to Christ with the heartfelt trust in which certainty of election has, I say, been established for us. [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.24.7.]

   Those who teach that believers may apostatize from the church disregard John’s plain explanation of the facts. We must not do so. Instead, we must maintain that those who denounce the faith never had true faith in the first place. They may have been among believers, but they were not of them. Otherwise, as John says, they would not have failed to persevere with them.
   Second, note the corollary: John affirms that “if they had been of us, they would have continued with us.” True believers remain in the faith and in the church. They endure to the end. It is certainly possible for a believer to defect for a time, but, like Peter or John Mark—who both had temporary lapses—in the end they repent and return.

—Jay E. Adams, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 184–185.