More love from the religion of peace.

“Famous musicians shouldn’t grow old.” I’m not sure the younger (1974) is so much better than the older (2008). Stephen King once wrote of a character singing “with a voice that could melt screws.” I think we’ve found him, if you can call that “singing.” On the other hand, here’s a famous musician who got old: hear him in 1957, 1969, about (I’m guessing) 1985–90, and in 2009 — at 100 years old. I guess it all depends on what you call music.

Oh, Benny. This is so ironic you wouldn’t want to leave it out in the rain . . . you know, because it would rust.

Conclusive proof we elected the wrong man: our President drinks light beer.

And finally, possibly the worst joke I will ever tell. This is no exaggeration. It is utterly horrible, but it’s also so much my style that I can’t resist. The worst part is that it’s original; it just popped into my head the other day. It’s really only funny in the perverse way of bad puns and the twisted minds that love them. So you have my sincere apologies in advance. Prepare the tomatoes.

David, son of Jesse, King of Israel, walks into a bar . . .

Yep, clichéd lead-in and all. Sorry.

. . . has drink, shares casual banter with the bartender, etc., and leaves. Spends the afternoon writing several Psalms, plays Harp Hero with one of the boys. Wanders back to the bar later that evening.

The bartender says to himself, “Wow, man. Dave à Jew.”

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

THE LAND OF LIGHT.
Horatius Bonar (1808–1889)

That clime is not this dull clime of ours;
   All, all is brightness there;
A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers,
   And a far milder air.
No calm below is like that calm above.
No region here is like that realm of love;
Earth’s softest spring ne’er shed so soft a light.
Earth’s brightest summer never shone so bright.

That sky is not like this sad sky of ours,
   Tinged with earth’s change and care:
No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers,—
   No broken sunshine there!
One everlasting stretch of azure pours
Its stainless splendor o’er these sinless shores;
For there Jehovah shines with heavenly ray,
There Jesus reigns dispensing endless day.

Those dwellers there are not like these of earth.
   No mortal stain they bear;
And yet they seem of kindred hlood and hirth,—
   Whence, and how came they there?
Earth was their native soil, from sin and shame,
Through tribulation they to glory came;
Bond-slaves delivered from sin’s crushing load.
Brands plucked from burning by the hand of God.

Those robes of theirs are not for these below;
   No angel’s half so bright!
Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow?
   Whence came that radiant white?
Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb,
Fair as the light those robes of theirs became,
And now, all tears wiped off from every eye,
They wander where the freshest pastures lie,
Through all the nightless day of that unfading
   sky!

—Horatius Bonar, Hymns of Faith and Hope, First Series (James Nisbet & Co., 1878).

The Gospel According to John
Christ Changes Water to Wine

2 On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there; 2 and both Jesus and His disciples were invited to the wedding. 3 When the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to Him, “They have no wine.” 4 And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what does that have to do with us? My hour has not yet come.” 5 His mother said to the servants, “Whatever He says to you, do it.” 6 Now there were six stone waterpots set there for the Jewish custom of purification, containing twenty or thirty gallons each. 7 Jesus said to them, “Fill the waterpots with water.” So they filled them up to the brim. 8 And He said to them, “Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter.” So they took it to him. 9 When the headwaiter tasted the water which had become wine, and did not know where it came from (but the servants who had drawn the water knew), the headwaiter called the bridegroom, 10 and said to him, “Every man serves the good wine first, and when the people have drunk freely, then he serves the poorer wine; but you have kept the good wine until now.” 11 This beginning of His signs Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and manifested His glory, and His disciples believed in Him.

These verses describe a miracle which should always possess a special interest in the eyes of a true Christian. It is the first, in order of time, of the many mighty works which Jesus did, when He was upon earth. We are distinctly told, “This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee.”—Like every other miracle which John was inspired to record, it is related with great minuteness and particularity. And, like every other miracle in John’s Gospel, it is rich in spiritual lessons.
   We learn, firstly, from these verses, how honourable in the sight of Christ is the estate of matrimony. To be present at a “marriage” was almost the first public act of our Lord’s earthly ministry.
   Marriage is not a sacrament, as the Church of Rome asserts. It is simply a state of life ordained by God for man’s benefit. But it is a state which ought never to be spoken of with levity, or regarded with disrespect. The Prayerbook service has well described it, as “an honourable estate, instituted of God in the time of man’s innocency, and signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church.” Society is never in a healthy condition, and true religion never flourishes in that land where the marriage tie is lightly esteemed. They who lightly esteem it have not the mind of Christ. He who “beautified and adorned the estate of matrimony by His presence and first miracle that He wrought in Cana of Galilee,” is One who is always of one mind. “Marriage,” says the Holy Spirit by Paul, “is honourable in all.” (Heb. xiii. 4.)
   One thing, however, ought not to be forgotten. Marriage is a step which so seriously affects the temporal happiness and spiritual welfare of two immortal souls, that it ought never to be taken in hand “unadvisedly, lightly, wantonly, and without due consideration.” To be truly happy, it should be undertaken “reverently, discreetly, soberly, and in the fear of God.” Christ’s blessing and presence are essential to a happy wedding. The marriage at which there is no place for Christ and His disciples, is not one that can justly be expected to prosper.
   We learn, secondly, from these verses, that there are times when it is lawful to be merry and rejoice. Our Lord Himself sanctioned a wedding-feast by His own presence. He did not refuse to be a guest at “a marriage in Cana of Galilee.” “A feast,” it is written, “is made for laughter, and wine maketh merry.” (Eccles. x. 19.) Our Lord, in the passage before us, approves both the feast and the use of wine.
   True religion was never meant to make men melancholy. On the contrary, it was intended to increase real joy and happiness among men. The servant of Christ unquestionably ought to have nothing to do with races, balls, theaters, and such-like amusements, which tend to frivolity and indulgence, if not to sin. But he has no right to hand over innocent recreations and family gatherings to the devil and the world. The Christian who withdraws entirely from the society of his fellow-men, and walks the earth with a face as melancholy as if he was always attending a funeral, does injury to the cause of the Gospel. A cheerful, kindly spirit is a great recommendation to a believer. It is a real misfortune to Christianity when a Christian cannot smile. A merry heart, and a readiness to take part in all innocent mirth, are gifts of inestimable value. They go far to soften prejudices, to take up stumbling-blocks out of the way, and to make way for Christ and the Gospel.
   The subject no doubt is a difficult and delicate one. On no point of Christian practice is it so hard to hit the balance between that which is lawful and that which is unlawful, between that which is right and that which is wrong. It is very hard indeed to be both merry and wise. High spirits soon degenerate into levity. Acceptance of many invitations to feasts soon leads to waste of time, and begets leanness of soul. Frequent eating and drinking at other men’s tables, soon lowers a Christian’s tone of religion. Going often into company is a heavy strain on spirituality of heart. Here, if anywhere, God’s children have need to be on their guard. Each must know his own strength and natural temperament, and act accordingly. One believer can go without risk where another cannot. Happy is he who can use his Christian liberty without abusing it! It is possible to be sorely wounded in soul at marriage feasts and the tables of friends.
   One golden rule on the subject may be laid down, the use of which will save us much trouble. Let us take care that we always go to feasts in the spirit of our divine Master, and that we never go where He would not have gone. Like Him, let us endeavour to be always “about our Father’s business.” (Luke ii. 49.) Like Him, let us willingly promote joy and gladness, but let us strive that it may be sinless joy, if not joy in the Lord. Let us endeavour to bring the salt of grace into every company, and to drop the word in season in every ear we address. Much good may be done in society by giving a healthy tone to conversation. Let us never be ashamed to show our colours, and to make men see whose we are and whom we serve. We may well say, “Who is sufficient for these things?” But if Christ went to a marriage feast in Cana there is surely something that Christians can do on similar occasions. Let them only remember that if they go when their Master went, they must go in their Master’s spirit.
   We learn lastly, from these verses, the Almighty power of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are told of a miracle which He wrought at the marriage feast, when the wine failed. By a mere act of will He changed water into wine, and so supplied the need of all the guests.
   The manner in which the miracle was worked deserves especial notice. We are not told of any outward visible action which preceded or accompanied it. It is not said that He touched the waterpots containing the water that was made wine. It is not said that He commanded the water to change its qualities, or that He prayed to His Father in Heaven. He simply willed the change, and it took place. We read of no prophet or apostle in the Bible who ever worked a miracle after this fashion. He who could do such a mighty work, in such a manner, was nothing less than very God.
   It is a comfortable thought that the same almighty power of will which our Lord here displayed is still exercised on behalf of His believing people. They have no need of His bodily presence to maintain their cause. They have no reason to be cast down because they cannot see Him with their eyes interceding for them, or touch Him with their hands, that they may cling to Him for safety. If He “wills” their salvation and the daily supply of all their spiritual need, they are as safe and well provided for as if they saw Him standing by them. Christ’s will is as mighty and effectual as Christ’s deed. The will of Him who could say to the Father, “I will that they whom thou hast given me be with me where I am,” is a will that has all power in heaven and earth, and must prevail. (John xvii. 24.)
   Happy are those who, like the disciples, believe on Him by whom this miracle was wrought. A greater marriage feast than that of Cana will one day be held, when Christ Himself will be the bridegroom and believers will be the bride. A greater glory will one day be manifested, when Jesus shall take to Himself His great power and reign. Blessed will they be in that day who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb! (Rev. xix. 9.)

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:88–92

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

A few weeks ago, I made the following provocative statement:

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

Some of the responses I received came very close to what I was leaving unsaid.

First, I should clarify what kind of judgment I am talking about here. God has said he will judge according to deeds (Matthew 16:27, Romans 2:6). But I’m not thinking of an eschatological judgment, I’m thinking of judgment here and now (or yet to come, but in this world), which is what is meant when people say that God will judge America for immorality.

Second — and this may be disputable — I’m not so sure God will ever judge America for any reason. I think that idea comes from the inflated sense of importance with which American evangelicals view their nation. They reason that since America is so important on earth, she must be important in heaven, too. And there is no denying that a certain segment of evangelicalism considers America to be God’s nation, like a new Israel. Therefore, surely God will deal with an ungodly America the same as he did with Israel. I don’t think so. In God’s eyes, America is no more important than, say, Liechtenstein. God is interested in people, not in political structures. Of course, when enough of a population is under judgment, the social and civil structures will crumble. But that, as I see it, is a consequence of judgment, not the judgment itself.

That is one reason I could say that God will not judge America; but that is not the main point I was getting at. The point is this: God is not going to judge, his is judging.; and he is not judging for immorality, he is judging with immorality. Abortion, homosexuality, etc. are not the cause of judgment; the are the judgment. Which leaves the question yet unanswered: What is provoking God’s judgment?

Romans 1:18 For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, 19 because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. 20 For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse. 21 For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. 22 Professing to be wise, they became fools, 23 and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures. 24 Therefore God gave them over in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, so that their bodies would be dishonored among them. 25 For they exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever. Amen. 26 For this reason God gave them over to degrading passions; for their women exchanged the natural function for that which is unnatural, 27 and in the same way also the men abandoned the natural function of the woman and burned in their desire toward one another, men with men committing indecent acts and receiving in their own persons the due penalty of their error. 28 And just as they did not see fit to acknowledge God any longer, God gave them over to a depraved mind, to do those things which are not proper, 29 being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, greed, evil; full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malice; they are gossips, 30 slanderers, haters of God, insolent, arrogant, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, 31 without understanding, untrustworthy, unloving, unmerciful; 32 and although they know the ordinance of God, that those who practice such things are worthy of death, they not only do the same, but also give hearty approval to those who practice them.

“The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men . . .” Which men? Those who knew the truth as plainly revealed by God and suppressed it. They knew God but — here’s their crime — “they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures.” Their sin was nothing but a failure to worship God. They were idolaters, so God said, If you will not worship me, I will remove the restraints I have placed upon your depraved flesh and let you sink as low as you will go. That is my judgment upon you (Remember Nebuchadnezzar, Daniel 4:30–33).

God is not going to judge for sodomy or abortion. He is judging for idolatry. He is causing idolaters to commit perverse acts upon one another, and he is causing them to murder their children, or simply to choose preemptive measures against them. The next generation is being killed in the womb while the present generation is dying of “the due penalty of their error.” That is God’s judgment.

Stephen Charnock on the future knowledge of God; or, Why Open Theists Are Wrong:

God knows all future things, all things to come. The differences of time cannot hinder a knowledge of all things by him, who is before time, above time, that is not measured by hours, or days, or years; if God did not know them, the hindrance must be in himself, or in the things themselves, because they are things to come: not in himself; if it did, it must arise from some impotency in his own nature, and so we render him weak; or from an unwillingness to know, and so we render him lazy, and an enemy to his own perfection; for, simply considered, the knowledge of more things is a greater perfection than the knowledge of a few; and if the knowledge of a thing includes something of perfection, the ignorance of a thing includes something of imperfection. The knowledge of future things is a greater perfection than not to know them, and is accounted among men a great port of wisdom, which they call foresight; it is then surely a greater perfection in God to know future things, than to be ignorant of them. And would God rather have something of imperfection than be possessor of all perfection? Nor doth the hindrance lie in the things themselves, because their futurition depends upon his will; for as nothing can actually be without his will, giving it existence, so nothing can be future without his will, designing the futurity of it. Certainly if God knows all things possible, which he will not do, he must know all things future, which he is not only able, but resolved to do, or resolved to permit. God’s perfect knowledge of himself, that is, of his own infinite power and concluding will, necessarily includes a foreknowledge of what he is able to do, and what he will do. Again, if God doth not know future things, there was a time when God was ignorant of most things in the world; for before the deluge he was more ignorant than after; the more things were done in the world, the more knowledge did accrue to God, and so the more perfection; then the understanding of God was not perfect from eternity, but in time; nay, is not perfect yet, if he be ignorant of those things which are still to come to pass; he must tarry for a perfection, he wants till those futurities come to be in act, till those things which are to come, cease to be future, and begin to be present. Either God knows them, or desires to know them; if he desires to know them and doth not, there is something wanting to him; all desire speaks an absence of the object desired, and a sentiment of want in the person desiring: if he doth not desire to know them, nay, if he doth not actually know them, it destroys all providence, all his government of affairs; for his providence hath a concatenation of means with a prospect of something that is future: as in Joseph’s case, who was put into the pit, and sold to the Egyptians in order to his future advancement, and the preservation both of his father and his envious brethren. If God did not know all the future inclinations and actions of men, something might have been done by the will of Potiphar, or by the free-will of Pharaoh, whereby Joseph might have been cut short of his advancement, and so God have been interrupted in the track and method of his designed providences. He that hath decreed to govern man for that end he hath designed him, knows all the means before, whereby he will govern him, and therefore bath a distinct and certain knowledge of all things; for a confused knowledge is an imperfection in government; it is in this the infiniteness of his understanding is more seen than in knowing things past or present; his eyes are a flame of fire (Rev. i. 14), in regard of the penetrating virtue of them into things impenetrable by any else.

—Stephen Charnock, The Existence and Attributes of God (Baker Books, 2005), 1:429–431.

While we believe in the perspicuity of scripture, we also must acknowledge that all scripture is not equally clear. Some passages are undeniably difficult to understand, and others appear to be contradictory. How are we to deal with these problem passages?

[O]ne place must be compared and collated with another; the obscurer places with the plainer or less obscure. For though in one place the words may be obscure, they will be plainer in another. For example, James, chap. 2, verse 21, affirms that Abraham was justified by works. The place is obscure, and seems to favour the papists. Whence, then, shall we know the true meaning of this passage? Why, we must compare it with the second verse of the fourth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, and so it will readily appear how this place is to be understood. For Paul, in Rom. iv. 2, expressly says, that Abraham was not justified by works, because then he would have whereof to glory: and it is sufficiently plain that the apostle Paul is speaking, in that place, of the works which followed the call of Abraham: first, because he says, “Abraham believed God, and it was counted unto him for righteousness;” which every body knows to have taken place after his call: secondly, because afterwards he proceeds to the example of David, whom all know to have been a holy man, regenerated by the Spirit of God, and called by God. We must needs therefore confess that the term ‘justification’ is taken in different senses, unless we choose to suppose that the apostles are at variance, and pronounce contradictory declarations. In James, therefore, to be justified means to be declared and shewn to be just, as Thomas Aquinas himself confesses upon that place; but, in Paul, to be justified denotes the same as to be absolved from all sins, and accounted righteous with God.

—William Whitaker, Disputations on the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 2005), 471–472.

Years ago, the doctrine of “once saved, always saved” was a big stumbling block for me as I approached the doctrines known as “Calvinism.” Having read and heartily agreed with The Gospel According to Jesus (ironically, I thought, by a Calvinist), I abhorred the notion that one could “accept Jesus” and be secure in his salvation while living an unchanged life; and I still do. The doctrines known as “Free Grace Theology” are no less than anti-gospel heresies. But isn’t that the logical conclusion of Calvinism?

If you have been taught the “once saved, always saved” doctrine, you may think that there is no difference between that teaching and the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints. But while it is certainly true that those who are once saved will always be saved, the concept of the perseverance of the saints encompasses a vitally important truth that is rarely emphasized by people who teach the “once saved, always saved” view. That missing emphasis is the fact that a person is saved through perseverance, not apart from it. The “once saved, always saved” view may lead those who hold it into quietistic thinking. That is to say, they may think that they have little or no part to play in maintaining their salvation, but that God does it all for them. While a person is not saved by works (as Romanists believe) and does not remain saved because of works (as the Churches of Christ believe), God saves only those who persevere in the faith.
   In a section of the Institutes of the Christian Religion titled “Perseverance is exclusively God’s work; it is neither a reward nor a complement of our individual act,” Calvin writes:

Perseverance would, without any doubt, be accounted God’s free gift if a most wicked error did not prevail that it is distributed according to men’s merit, in so far as each man shows himself receptive to the first grace. But since this error arose from the fact that men thought it in their power to spurn or to accept the proffered grace of God, when the latter opinion is swept away the former idea also falls of itself. However, there is here a twofold error. For besides teaching that our gratefulness for the first grace and our lawful use of it are rewarded by subsequent gifts, they add also that grace does not work in us by itself, but is only a co-worker with us. [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 2.3.11.]

Perseverance is the result of the work of the Spirit in believers’ hearts. Nevertheless, it is a work that enables them to keep on believing, as Peter says. God does not believe for them. Rather, they are “guarded” through faith.
   In John 15, we read about the sanctification that is necessary for a believer to be saved. [I.e., the sanctification that is always present, giving evidence of the fact that one is saved.] A so-called “abiding” condition, which some Higher Life adherents take to mean a special sort of holiness, is not taught in the passage. That idea distorts the apostle’s teaching. The Greek word meno, which the King James Version translates as “abide,” means “remain, continue, stay.” It does not refer to some special state of “resting” in Christ that only super saints achieve. Rather, this abiding is equivalent to persevering in the faith. And it is true not of a select few, such as the apostles only, but of all Christians. Indeed, persevering in one’s faith in Christ is necessary not only for bearing “much fruit,” as the passage teaches, but also for salvation.
   Unless one remains in the vine, “he is thrown away like a branch and withers,” eventually to be burned up (v. 6). Jesus, therefore, commands, “Abide [or remain] in my love” (v. 9b). The apostles had to persevere in their faith or be cast aside like a branch broken off the vine, and the same is true for all believers. Christ, the Vine, requires every professed Christian to remain in Him by genuine faith or eventually be thrown into the fire.
   So perseverance is the result of true faith, nourished and maintained by the Spirit. But the believer himself must continue to exercise it. He may never sit back and say, “I’m saved, I may do as I please, since I can never be lost.” To think that way indicates either that he has received very faulty teaching or that he is not a believer. No one who is truly converted can think that way for very long, if at all. True Spirit-given and Spirit-nourished faith leads to biblical thinking. A professed Christian must persevere—remain, continue, stay—in the Vine.
   Jesus spoke not only of believers remaining in Him, but also of His “words” remaining in believers (v. 7). Moreover, in verse 14 He said, “You are my friends if you do what I command you.” After justification, by means of divinely guarded faith, one remains in salvation by the work of the Spirit, who, through that faith, enables him to continue obeying Jesus’ words and commandments. That is perseverance.
   This precious doctrine of the perseverance of the saints, coming down to us from the Reformation, must be preserved at all costs. We may neither abandon it nor compromise with those who would do so. The certainty of salvation, which Calvin so dearly wished his congregation to know and which he bequeathed to subsequent generations, must not be lost.

—Jay E. Adams, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 187–189.

When discussing biblical soteriology, we often speak of the substitutionary aspect of the atonement. Less often do we think of our union with Christ as vital to our salvation. Philip Ryken writes:

   Apart from union with Christ, it is impossible to receive any of the saving blessings of God. Not even the cross and the empty tomb can save us unless we are joined to Jesus Christ. Calvin was emphatic:

We must understand that as long as Christ remains outside of us, and we are separated from him, all that he has suffered and done for the salvation of the human race remains useless and of no value for us. Therefore, to share with us what he has received from the Father, he had to become ours and to dwell within us. . . . We also, in turn, are said to be “engrafted into him” [Rom. 11:17], and to “put on Christ” [Gal. 3:27]; for, as I have said, all that he possesses is nothing to us until we grow into one body with him. [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.1.1.]

   Simply put, if we are not in Christ, we have no part in His death on the cross to atone for sins and no share in His resurrection from the dead. We are not justified, adopted, sanctified, or glorified without being united to Christ. “I do not see,” wrote Calvin, “how anyone can trust that he has redemption and righteousness in the cross of Christ, and life in his death, unless he relies chiefly upon a true participation in Christ himself. For those benefits would not come to us unless Christ first made himself ours.” [Ibid., 4.17.11.] Union with Christ, therefore, is nothing less than a matter of spiritual life and death.

—Philip Graham Ryken, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 193–194.

Dig the zany hijinx of those rascals from the Religion of Peace®. (Do I seem to be belaboring the point? Yes, I suppose I do.)

I just finished reading State of Fear by the late Michael Crichton (October 23, 1942 – November 4, 2008). This is definitely recommended reading. I want to share one short excerpt from the book. Crichton was not a Christian, but, at one point, managed to invoke the name of Jesus accurately, which is more than I can say for the majority of the WWJD crowd.

   One of the leading characters is holding forth on the billions spent “researching” and combating the fiction of global warming. He complains that all that money could be spent on genuine humanitarian causes, such as AIDS in Africa. “In another world,” he says, “it would be a criminal waste.”

At the very least, we are talking about a moral outrage. Thus we can expect our religious leaders and our great humanitarian figures to cry out against this waste and the needless deaths around the world that result. But do any religious leaders speak out? No. quite the contrary, they join the chorus. They promote ‘What Would Jesus Drive?’ As if they have forgotten what Jesus would drive is the false prophets and fear mongers out of the temple.”

—Michael Crichton, State of Fear (HarperCollins, 2004), 457.

Of course, fair and balanced as I am, I offer you this alternate viewpoint.

This ( 7:54) may or may not be fair and balanced, but if you don’t think it’s funny, you’re just wrong.

If you think the election of Barack Obama marks an historic milestone in the fight against racism, think again ( 7:54, HT: Biblical Christianity).

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it” [George Santayana]. Regarding socialized medicine, we’ve been here before, and I don’t mean Hillarycare. Listen to a voice from the past — fourty-eight years past — explain how it works ( 10:06, HT: The Constructive Curmudgeon).

This post, which is just a conversation starter from one pastor to others, reminded me of how big a job our pastors have, and how much they need our support and prayers.

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

A Christian’s Prayer

Blessed God,

Ten thousand snares are mine without
and within,
            defend thou me;
When sloth and indolence seize me,
   give me views of heaven;
When sinners entice me,
   give me disrelish for their ways;
When sensual pleasures tempt me,
   purify and refine me;
When I desire worldly possessions,
   help me to be rich toward thee;
When the vanities of the world ensnare me,
   let me not plunge into guilt and ruin.
May I remember the dignity of my spiritual release,
   never be to busy to attend my soul,
   never be so engrossed with time
      that I neglect the things of eternity;
   thus may I not only live, but grow towards thee.
Form my mind to right notions of religion,
   that I may not judge of grace by wrong
      conceptions,
   nor measure my spiritual advances by the efforts
      of my natural being.
May I seek after an increase of divine love to thee,
   after an unreserved resignation to thy will,
   after extensive benevolence to my fellow
      creatures,
   after a patience and fortitude of soul
   after a heavenly disposition
   after a concern that I may please thee in public
      and private.
Draw on my soul the lineaments of Christ,
   in every trace and feature of which thou wilt
   take delight, for I am
      thy workmanship, created in Christ Jesus,
      thy letter written in the Holy Spirit’s pen,
      thy tilled soil ready for sowing, then harvest.

—from The Valley of Vision, Arthur Bennett, editor (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002).

John 2:12–25

The second miracle which our Lord is recorded to have wrought demands our attention in these verses. Like the first miracle at Cana, it is eminently typical and significant of things yet to come. To attend a marriage feast, and cleanse the temple from profanation were among the first acts of our Lord’s ministry at His first coming. To purify the whole visible Church, and hold a marriage supper, will be among His first acts, when He comes again.
   We see, for one thing, in this passage, how much Christ disapproves all irreverent behavior in the house of God.
   We are told that He drove out of the temple those whom He found selling oxen and sheep and doves within its walls,—that He poured out the changers’ money and overthrew their tables,—and that He said to those who sold doves, “Take these things hence, make not my Father’s house an house of merchandise!” On no occasion in our Lord’s earthly ministry do we find Him acting so energetically, and exhibiting such righteous indignation, as on the occasion now before us. Nothing seems to have called from Him such a marked display of holy wrath as the gross irreverence which the priests permitted in the temple, notwithstanding all their boasted zeal for God’s law. Twice, it will be remembered, He discovered the same profanation of His Father’s house going on, within three years, once at the beginning of His ministry and once at the end. Twice we see Him expressing his displeasure in the strongest terms. “The thing is doubled” in order to impress a lesson more strongly on our minds.
   The passage is one that ought to raise deep searchings of heart in many quarters. Are there none who profess and call themselves Christians, behaving every Sunday just as badly as these Jews? Are there none who secretly bring into the house of God their money, their lands, their houses, their cattle, and a whole train of worldly affairs? Are there none who bring their bodies only into the place of worship, and allow their hearts to wander into the ends of the earth? Are there none who are “almost in all evil, in the midst of the congregation?” (Prov. v. 14.) These are serious questions! Multitudes, it may be feared, could not give them a satisfactory answer. Christian churches and chapels, no doubt, are very unlike the Jewish temple. They are not built after a divine pattern. They have no altars or holy places. Their furniture has no typical meaning. But they are places where God’s word is read, and where Christ is specially present. The man who professes to worship in them should surely behave with reverence and respect. The man who brings his worldly matters with him when he professes to worship, is doing that which is evidently most offensive to Christ. The words which Solomon wrote by the Holy Spirit are applicable to all times, “Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house of God.” (Eccles. v. 1.)
   We see, for another thing, in this passage, how men may remember words of religious truth long after they are spoken, and may one day see a meaning in those who at first they did not see.
   We are told that our Lord said to the Jews, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” St. John informs us distinctly that “He spake of the temple of His body,” that he referred to His own resurrection. Yet the meaning of the sentence was not understood by our Lord’s disciples at the time that it was spoken. It was not until “He was risen from the dead,” three years after the events here described, that the full significance of the sentence flashed on their hearts. For three years it was a dark and useless saying to them. For three years it lay sleeping in their minds, like a seed in a tomb, and bore no fruit. But at the end of that time the darkness passed away. They saw the application of their Master’s words, and as they saw it were confirmed in their faith. “They remembered that He had said this,” and as they remembered “they believed.”
   It is a comfortable and cheering thought, that the same kind of thing that happened to the disciples is often going on at the present day. The sermons that are preached to apparently heedless ears in churches, are not all lost and thrown away. The instruction that is given in schools and pastoral visits, is not all wasted and forgotten. The texts that are taught by parents to children are not all taught in vain. There is often a resurrection of sermons, and texts, and instruction, after an interval of many years. The good seed sometimes springs up after he that sowed it has been long dead and gone. Let preachers go on preaching, and teachers go on teaching, and parents go on training up children in the way they should go. Let them sow the good seed of Bible truth in faith and patience. Their labour is not in vain in the Lord. Their words are remembered far more than they think, and will yet spring up “after many days.” (1 Cor. xv. 58; Eccles. xi. 1.)
   We see, lastly, in this passage, how perfect is our Lord Jesus Christ’s knowledge of the human heart.
   We are told that when our Lord was at Jerusalem, the first time, He “did not commit Himself” to those who professed belief in Him. He knew that they were not to be depended on. They were astonished at the miracles which they saw Him work. They were even intellectually convinced that He was the Messiah, whom they had long expected. But they were not “disciples indeed.” (John viii. 31.) They were not converted, and true believers. Their hearts were not right in the sight of God, though their feelings were excited. Their inward man was not renewed, whatever they might profess with their lips. Our Lord knew that nearly all of them were stony-ground hearers. (Luke viii. 13.) As soon as tribulation or persecution arose because of the word, their so-called faith would probably wither away and come to an end. All this our Lord saw clearly, if others around Him did not. Andrew, and Peter, and John, and Philip, and Nathanael, perhaps wondered that their Master did not receive these seeming believers with open arms. But they could only judge things by the outward appearance. Their Master could read hearts. “He knew what was in man.”
   The truth now before us, is one which ought to make hypocrites and false professors tremble. They may deceive men, but they cannot deceive Christ. They may wear a cloak of religion, and appear, like whited sepulchers, beautiful in the eyes of men. But the eyes of Christ see their inward rottenness, and the judgment of Christ will surely overtake them, except they repent. Christ is already reading their hearts, and as He reads He is displeased. They are known in heaven, if they are not known on earth, and they will be known at length to their shame, before assembled worlds, if they die unchanged. It is written, “I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead.” (Rev. iii. 1.)
   But the truth before us has two sides, like the pillar of cloud and fire at the Red sea. (Exod. xiv. 20.) If it looks darkly on hypocrites, it looks brightly on true believers. If it threatens wrath to false professors, it speaks peace to all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. A real Christian may be weak, but he is true. One thing, at any rate, the servant of Christ can say, when cast down by a sense of his own infirmity, or pained by the slander of a lying world. He can say, “Lord, I am a poor sinner, but I am in earnest, I am true. Thou knowest all things: thou knowest that I love thee. Thou knowest all hearts, and thou knowest that, weak as my heart is, it is a heart that cleaves to thee.” The false Christian shrinks from the eye of an all-seeing Saviour. The true Christian desires his Lord’s eye to be on him morning, noon, and night. He has nothing to hide.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:102–106

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

I have previously written on Why I Am a Calvinist (click here). But my journey towards Calvinism (which I hated) really began as I struggled with the illogic of Arminianism. Since I was involved in a discussion last week on the logical failings of Arminianism, I thought I would briefly cover them here. This is not exegetical proof, but simply a demonstration of logic which anyone, believer or not, should understand.

First, Arminians say that God looked ahead in time, saw who would believe, and elected/predestined those individuals to salvation.

Romans 8:29 For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren; 30 and these whom He predestined, He also called; and these whom He called, He also justified; and these whom He justified, He also glorified.

It should be obvious that we have a problem biblically (John 15:16; 1 John 4:19); but we also have a problem logically. If God looked ahead and saw who would believe, if who would believe could be seen, then those individuals were already predestined — by whatever cause — to believe. It is absurd to say that God predestined the thing that was already going to happen with or without his intervention. It reminds me of the old Get Smart television series, in which Agent 99 would often get ahead of Max Smart (Agent 86) and suggest a theory or plan of action. Max would then say something like, “Let me handle this, 99,” and then proceed to repeat what 99 had just said. Humorous, but hardly godlike.

Second, while Arminians agree that nothing can be done to earn salvation, they do believe that salvation depends upon a moment of decision when one must choose to believe.

Again, we have a problem biblically, i.e., the natural man cannot understand, let alone believe, the things of God (1 Corinthians 2:14). But logically, it doesn’t add up, either. I’ve written this before: no one ever chooses to believe anything. Whatever we believe, we believe it because we have been convinced by influences outside ourselves. Confronted with evidence, and given understanding, we are helpless to deny anything.

Well, none of this is very profound. It’s pretty obvious, really. If you are an Arminian, I’d be interested in how you would address these problems.

I didn’t read Charnock this week. Let this be an adequate substitute, if you please:

A Living Sacrifice ( 6:21).

William Whitaker on the use of commentaries an other extra-biblical writings:

[The unlearned] ought to have recourse to other persons better skilled than themselves, to read the books of others, to consult the commentaries and expositions of learned interpreters, and to confer with others. Such was the practice of Jerome, of Augustine, and of other fathers. But, in the meanwhile, care must be taken that we do not ascribe too much to them, or suppose that their interpretations are to be received because they are theirs, but because they are supported by the authority of scripture or by reason, so as to allow them no weight in opposition to the scripture. We may use their labours, advice, prudence, and knowledge; but we should use them always cautiously, modestly, and discreetly, and so as still to retain our own liberty. He that shall be content to make such a use of these means, and will lay aside his prejudices and party zeal, which many bring with them to every question, will be enabled to gain an understanding of the scriptures, if not in all places, yet in most; if not immediately, yet ultimately.

—William Whitaker, Disputations on the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 2005), 473.

Related: Dumb Things I have Believed: Me & My Bible.

Union with Christ confers upon us the dual benefits of justification and sanctification. That is, we are both declared righteous (justified), and made righteous.

   The double benefit of justification and sanctification provides an immediate answer to the Roman Catholic objection that Calvin and the other Reformers wrongly divided these doctrines, or removed good works from their proper place in the Christian life. On the contrary, Calvin’s doctrine of union with Christ unifies his theology of salvation. Viewing both justification and sanctification from the perspective of union with Christ shows how intimately these saving benefits are related.
   Calvin was convinced that the several benefits of salvation, though distinct, could never be divided. To receive Christ by faith is to receive the whole Christ, not just part of Him. Thus, in coming to Christ we receive both justification and sanctification. To separate these benefits, Calvin said, would virtually tear Christ in two. But of course “Christ cannot be torn into parts, so these two which we perceive in him together and conjointly are inseparable—namely, righteousness and sanctification.” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.11.6.]
   A key text for Calvin’s doctrine of salvation was 1 Corinthians 1:30, where Christ is described as “our righteousness and sanctification.” “If you would properly understand how inseparable faith and works are,” Calvin wrote, “look to Christ, who, as the Apostle teaches, has been given to us for justification and for sanctification.” [John Calvin, Responsio, in Ioannis Calvini opera selecta, ed. P. Barth, W. Niesel, and Dora Scheuner (Munich: Chr. Kaiser, 1926–1952), 1:470.]
   First Corinthians 1:30 clearly distinguishes the two benefits of union with Christ, so that we comprehend God’s full work of salvation in declaring us and making us righteous. Yet justification and sanctification are also joined together as inseparable benefits we receive simultaneously in Christ:

Although we may distinguish them, Christ contains both of them inseparably in himself. Do you wish, then, to attain righteousness in Christ? You must first possess Christ; but you cannot possess him without being made partaker in his sanctification, because he cannot be divided into pieces (1 Cor. 1:13). Since, therefore, it is solely by expending himself that the Lord gives us these benefits to enjoy, he bestows both of them at the same time, the one never without the other. [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion. 3.16.1.]

—Philip Graham Ryken, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 197–198.

Jerry Bridges on Calvin on carnality vs. holiness, and personal discipline vs. charity towards others:

   For Calvin, there is no such thing as the so-called “carnal Christian.” Rather, he writes, “The apostle denies that anyone actually knows Christ who has not learned to put off the old man, corrupt with deceitful lusts, and to put on Christ.” [Calvin, Golden Booklet of the True Christian Life, 20.] And again, “[The gospel] will be unprofitable if it does not change our heart, pervade our manners, and transform us into new creatures.” [Ibid., 21.] He continues: “Perfection must be the final mark at which we aim, and the goal for which we strive. It is not lawful for you to make a compromise with God, to try to fulfill part of your duties and to omit others at your own pleasure.” [Ibid., 22.]
   At the same time, Calvin guards against setting too high a standard for other believers. He writes, “We should not insist on absolute perfection of the gospel in our fellow Christians, however much we may strive for it ourselves.” [Ibid., 21.] To use a contemporary expression, we should be tough on ourselves and tender with others. Unfortunately, the opposite is too often true. We expect a lot from others while excusing ourselves.
   While urgently pressing the importance of our diligent pursuit of holiness, Calvin is realistic about our meager attainments. He acknowledges that the vast majority of Christians make only slight progress. But this is not to excuse us. Rather, he writes, “Let us not cease to do the utmost; that we may incessantly go forward in the way of the Lord; and let us not despair because of the smallness of our accomplishment.” [Ibid., 23.]

—Jerry Bridges, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 223.

What would Jonathan Edwards say? Yale Press Bans Images of Muhammad in New Book.

I suppose it takes some nerve to disagree with a man whose IQ is higher than mine and all my readers’ collectively, but I do take issue with Scott Clark on cremation. Clark writes:

As we contemplate the last thing that will likely happen to our bodies let us at least give some serious thought to the message we are sending about the body and its relation to the image and to human dignity rooted in the image of God. If cremation is unavoidable, we can at least arrange some clear testimony to the hope of the resurrection. If, however, cremation is just one option among many, then we must ask, are we, as much as lies within us, testifying to our hope of the bodily resurrection or are we unintentionally sending another message? There’s no question whether God can and shall re-constitute bodies at the resurrection, the question is what message are we sending by our acts?

The Right to Bare and Keep Arms, or Clothes Don’t Always Make the Man, or In the Country of the Unarmed, the Naked Man with the Baseball Bat Is King. (HT: Semper Reformanda. Do take the time to watch the video at the top.)

From the “Dr” G. A. Riplinger school of hermeneutics comes this fun little piece: Did Jesus Reveal The Name Of The Anti Christ?

Since you asked, I like my coffee black. That’s the way real men drink it. However, that doesn’t prevent me from occasionally indulging in a splash of flavor. Sometimes, especially in the afternoon or evening, I’ll throw in a shot of Bailey’s and a spoonful of brown sugar. My occasional Starbucks is a small (I refuse to call the smallest size on the menu “tall”) caramel cappuccino, double espresso. Straight black Starbucks tastes like used motor oil with a shot of antifreeze and hints battery acid, but without the pleasant aftertaste.

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

HYMN 28 (C. M.)
The triumph of Christ over the enemies of his church. Isa. lxi. 1—3, &c.
Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

WHAT mighty man, or mighty God,
   Comes travelling in state,
Along the Idumean road,
   Away from Bozrah’s gate?

The glory of his robes proclaim
   ’Tis some victorious king:
“’Tis I, the Just, th’ Almighty One,
   That your salvation bring.”

“Why, mighty Lord,” thy saints inquire,
   “Why thine apparel’s red?
And all thy vesture stain’d like those
   Who in the wine-press tread?”

“I by myself have trod the press,
   And crush’d my foes alone;
My wrath has struck the rebels dead,
   My fury stamp’d them down.

“’Tis Edom’s blood that dyes my robes
   With joyful scarlet stains;
The triumph that my raiment wears
   Sprung from their bleeding veins.

“Thus shall the nations be destroy’d
   That dare insult my saints;
I have an arm t’ avenge their wrongs,
   An ear for their complaints.”

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

The Gospel According to John
Christ Witnesses to Nicodemus

3 Now there was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews; 2 this man came to Jesus by night and said to Him, “Rabbi, we know that You have come from God as a teacher; for no one can do these signs that You do unless God is with him.” 3 Jesus answered and said to him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
   4 Nicodemus said to Him, “How can a man be born when he is old? He cannot enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born, can he?” 5 Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. 6 That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. 7 Do not be amazed that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

The conversation between Christ and Nicodemus, which begins with these verses, is one of the most important passages in the whole Bible. Nowhere else do we find stronger statements about those two mighty subjects, the new birth, and salvation by faith in the Son of God. The servant of Christ will do well to make himself thoroughly acquainted with this chapter. A man may be ignorant of many things in religion, and yet be saved. But to be ignorant of the matters handled in this chapter, is to be in the broad way which leadeth to destruction.
   We should notice, firstly, in these verses, what a weak and feeble beginning a man may make in religion, and yet finally prove a strong Christian. We are told of a certain Pharisee, named Nicodemus, who feeling concerned about his soul, “came to Jesus by night.”
   There can be little doubt that Nicodemus acted as he did on this occasion from the fear of man. He was afraid of what man would think, or say, or do, if his visit to Jesus was known. He came “by night,” because he had not faith and courage enough to come by day. And yet there was a time afterwards when this very Nicodemus took our Lord’s part in open day in the council of the Jews. “Doth our law judge any man,” he said, “before it hear him, and know what he doeth.” (John vii. 51.)—Nor was this all. There came a time when this very Nicodemus was one of the only two men who did honour to our Lord’s dead body. He helped Joseph of Arimathea to bury Jesus, when even the apostles had forsaken their Master and fled. His last things were more than his first. Though he began badly, he ended well.
   The history of Nicodemus is meant to teach us that we should never “despise the day of small things” in religion. (Zec. iv. 10.) We must not set down a man as having no grace, because his first steps towards God are timid and wavering, and the first movements of his soul are uncertain, hesitating, and stamped with much imperfection. We must remember our Lord’s reception of Nicodemus. He did not “break the bruised reed, or quench the smoking flax,” which He saw before Him. (Matt. xii. 20.) Like Him, let us take inquirers by the hand, and deal with them gently and lovingly. In everything there must be a beginning. It is not those who make the most flaming profession of religion at first, who endure the longest and prove the most steadfast. Judas Iscariot was an apostle when Nicodemus was just groping his way slowly into full light, Yet afterwards, when Nicodemus was boldly helping to bury his crucified Saviour, Judas Iscariot had betrayed Him, and hanged himself! This is a fact which ought not to be forgotten.
   We should notice, secondly, in these verses, what a mighty change our Lord declares to be needful to salvation, and what a remarkable expression He uses in describing it. He speaks of a new birth. He says to Nicodemus, “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” He announces the same truth in other words, in order to make it more plain to his hearer’s mind: “Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.” By this expression He meant Nicodemus to understand that “no one could become His disciple, unless his inward man was as thoroughly cleansed and renewed by the Spirit, as the outward man is cleansed by water.” To possess the privileges of Judaism a man only needed to be born of the seed of Abraham after the flesh. To possess the privileges of Christ’s kingdom, a man must be born again of the Holy Spirit.
   The change which our Lord here declares needful to salvation is evidently no slight or superficial one. It is not merely reformation, or amendment, or moral change, or outward alteration of life. It is a thorough change of heart, will, and character. It is a resurrection. It is a new creation. It is a passing from death to life. It is the implanting in our dead hearts of a new principle from above. It is the calling into existence of a new creature, with a new nature, new habits of life, new tastes, new desires, new appetites, new judgments, new opinions, new hopes, and new fears. All this, and nothing less than this is implied, when our Lord declares that we all need a “new birth.”
   This change of heart is rendered absolutely necessary to salvation by the corrupt condition in which we are all, without exception, born. “That which is born of the flesh is flesh.” Our nature is thoroughly fallen. The carnal mind is enmity against God. (Rom. viii. 7.) We come into the world without faith, or love, or fear toward God. We have no natural inclination to serve Him or obey Him, and no natural pleasure in doing His will. Left to himself, no child of Adam would ever turn to God. The truest description of the change which we all need in order to make us real Christians, is the expression, “new birth.”
   This mighty change, it must never be forgotten, we cannot give to ourselves. The very name which our Lord gives to it is a convincing proof of this. He calls it “a birth.” No man is the author of his own existence, and no man can quicken his own soul. We might as well expect a dead man to give himself life, as expect a natural man to make himself spiritual. A power from above must be put in exercise, even that same power which created the world. (2 Cor. iv. 6.) Man can do many things; but he cannot give life either to himself or to others. To give life is the peculiar prerogative of God. Well may our Lord declare that we need to be “born again!”
   This mighty change, we must, above all, remember, is a thing without which we cannot go to heaven, and could not enjoy heaven if we went there. Our Lord’s words on this point are distinct and express. “Except a man be born again, he can neither see nor enter the kingdom of God.” Heaven may be reached without money, or rank, or learning. But it is clear as daylight, if words have any meaning, that nobody can enter heaven without a “new birth.”
   We should notice, lastly, in these verses, the instructive comparison which our Lord uses in explaining the new birth. He saw Nicodemus perplexed and astonished by the things he had just heard. He graciously helped his wondering mind by an illustration drawn from “the wind.” A more beautiful and fitting illustration of the work of the Spirit it is impossible to conceive.
   There is much about the wind that is mysterious and inexplicable. “You can not tell,” says our Lord, “whence it comes and where it goes.” We cannot handle it with our hands, or see it with our eyes. When the wind blows, we cannot point out the exact spot where its breath first began to be felt, and the exact distance to which its influence shall extend. But we do not on that account deny its presence.—It is just the same with the operations of the Spirit, in the new birth of man. They may be mysterious, sovereign, and incomprehensible to us in many ways. But it is foolish to stumble at them because there is much about those who we cannot explain.
   But whatever mystery there may be about the wind, its presence may always be known by its sound and effects. “Thou hearest the sound thereof,” says our Lord. When our ears hear it whistling in the windows, and our eyes see the clouds driving before it, we do not hesitate to say, “There is wind.”—It is just the same with the operations of the Holy Spirit in the new birth of man. Marvelous and incomprehensible as His work may be, it is work that can always be seen and known. The new birth is a thing that “cannot be hid.” There will always be visible “fruits of the Spirit” in every one that is born of the Spirit.
   Would we know what the marks of the new birth are?—We shall find them already written for our learning in the First Epistle of St. John. The man born of God “believes that Jesus is the Christ,”—“doth not commit sin,”—“doeth righteousness,”—“loves the brethren,”—“overcomes the world,”—“keepeth himself from the wicked one.”—This is the man born of the Spirit! Where these fruits are to be seen, there is the new birth of which our Lord is speaking. He that lacks these marks, is yet dead in trespasses and sins. (1 John v. 1; iii. 9; ii. 29; iii. 14; v. 4; v. 18.)
   And now let us solemnly ask ourselves whether we know anything of the mighty change of which we have been reading? Have we been born again? Can any marks of the new birth be seen in us? Can the sound of the Spirit be heard in our daily conversation? Is the image and superscription of the Spirit to be discerned in our lives?—Happy is the man who can give satisfactory answers to these questions! A day will come when those who are not born again will wish that they had never been born at all.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:118–123

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

An Arminian asks:

“So, you nasty Calvinist, you believe in ‘Limited Atonement.’ When sharing the gospel, not knowing who is elect, you can’t really say ‘Jesus died for you,’ can you?”

Good question. You’re right, I can’t say “Jesus died for you” or “Jesus died for your sins.” While even some Calvinists might consider this picayune, the truth is that if I don’t know who is elect and who isn’t, then I don’t know that Christ died for the individual in question; so I can’t say otherwise. Does that mean I can’t offer them the hope of salvation? Certainly not. I can offer Christ as the propitiation for sins in this way: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15), “like you, and like me.” “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved” (Acts 16:30–31).

As with all of God’s attributes, the perfection of his knowledge is a great source of comfort to his children. Charnock writes:

This perfection of God fits him to be a special object of trust. If he were forgetful, what comfort could we have in any promise? How could we depend upon him, if we were ignorant of our state? His compassions to pity us, his readiness to relieve us, his power to protect and assist us, would be insignificant, without his omniscience to inform his goodness, and direct the arm of his power. This perfection is, as it were, God’s office of intelligence: as you go to your memorandum-book to know what you are to do, so doth God to his omniscience; this perfection is God’s eye, to acquaint him with the necessities of his church, and directs all his other attributes in their exercise for and about his people. You may depend upon his mercy that hath promised, and upon his truth to perform; upon his sufficiency to apply you, and his goodness to relieve you, and his righteousness to reward you; because he hath an infinite understanding to know you and your wants, you and your services. And without this knowledge of his, no comfort could be drawn from any other perfection; none of them could be a sure nail to hang our hopes and confidence upon. This is that the church alway celebrated (Ps. cv. 7): “He hath remembered his covenant for ever, and the word which he hath commanded to a thousand generations;” and (ver. 42), “He remembered his holy promise;” “And he remembered for them his covenant” (Ps. cvi. 45). He remembers and understands his covenant, therefore his promise to perform it, and therefore our wants to supply them.

—Stephen Charnock, The Existence and Attributes of God (Baker Books, 2005), 1:484–485.

William Whitaker offers a few examples of scripture interpreting scripture:

[T]he scripture, where it speaks with some obscurity, explains its meaning sometimes immediately after in the very same place, sometimes accumulatively in several other places. This I will briefly illustrate by examples of both sorts of interpretation. In Isaiah li. 1, we have: “Look unto the rock whence ye were hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence ye were digged.” The language is obscure and ambiguous; but the obscurity is wholly removed by the words which follow: “Consider Abraham your father, and Sarah who bore you.” What better expositor do we require? Gen. xv. 2, Abraham says to the Lord: “What wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless, and the steward of my house is this Eleazar of Damascus?” These words are somewhat dark, but light is thrown upon them presently after: “Behold, thou hast given me no seed, and lo, my servant born in my house is my heir.” What could possibly be spoken more plainly? Gen. xi. 1, the whole world is said to have been of one lip; and, to make this better understood, it is immediately subjoined, that their speech was the same. Exod. xx. 4, in the second precept of the decalogue, we are commanded to “make no graven image, nor likeness of any thing;” and, to put us completely in possession of the drift of this law, a lucid exposition is added in the way of commentary. Deut. vii. 3, the Israelites are forbidden to unite themselves with the Canaanites by affinity. This might be plain enough by itself, but is rendered still more clear and definite by what follows in the same place, “Thou shalt not give thy daughter to the son of any of them, neither shalt thou take the son of any of them for thy daughter:” and the reason of the law, subjoined immediately in a large exposition, makes the meaning of the law still more evident. Isaiah i. 2, “I have brought up children, and they have rebelled against me,” saith the Lord; and then immediately shews that this declaration concerns the Israelites: “Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider.” Isaiah liii. 1, “To whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?”—the meaning of this is plain from the preceding clause, “Who hath believed our report?”—so as to make it evident, that the gospel is denoted by the arm of the Lord. In the sixth of John Christ is described as having discoursed at large of eating his flesh and drinking his blood, and having given grievous offence by that discourse not only to the Capernaites, but also to his own disciples. Wherefore, to prevent that offence from sinking too deep or dwelling too long in pious minds, Christ himself at the last explains himself, saying, that the time should come when they should see the Son of man ascending up; that it is the Spirit that quickens, while the flesh profits nothing; and still more plainly, that those words which he had spoken were Spirit and life. So plainly, so carefully, so largely does Christ remove that stumbling-block from his discourse, and teach us that he spoke of a spiritual, not a carnal and bodily, sort of eating and drinking. Paul says, 1 Cor. v. 9, “I wrote unto you in an epistle not to keep company with fornicators:” but what sort of fornicators he meant, he presently indicates; not those who were strangers to the christian name and profession, but those who, professing to be Christ’s adherents, abstained not from fornication and such-like similar enormities; with such he hath forbidden us to have any familiarity, and hath clearly explained his mind upon that subject. So, in the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Ephesians, speaking of marriage, he drops these words, “This is a great mystery:” where, foreseeing that some would hence infer that marriage was a sacrament, he subjoined what absolutely removes the ground of such a surmise, “But I speak concerning Christ and the church;” in which words he protests that it is not matrimony, but the union of Christ and the church, that is styled by him a mystery. Such examples are innumerable, wherein it is apparent that the Holy Spirit hath been careful that what he might seem at first to have expressed with some obscurity, should afterwards be clearly explained, so as to free the reader from all difficulty.

—William Whitaker, Disputations on the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 2005), 488–490.

In the writings of John Calvin you will find a great emphasis on prayer in the Christian’s life. Calvin considered habitual prayer to be so important that, according to Joel Beeke, “Calvin focused more on the practice of prayer than on its doctrine.” The following guides are Calvin’s Rules for Prayer:

   The first is a heartfelt sense of reverence. In prayer, we must be “disposed in mind and heart as befits those who enter conversation with God.” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.20.4–5.] Our prayers should arise from “the bottom of our heart.” [John Calvin, Sermons on the Epistle to the Ephesians (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust,
1973), 679.] Calvin calls for a disciplined mind and heart, asserting that “the only persons who duly and properly gird themselves to pray are those who are so moved by God’s majesty that, freed from earthly cares and affections, they come to it.” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.20.5.]
   The second rule is a heartfelt sense of need and repentance. We must “pray from a sincere sense of want and with penitence,” maintaining “the disposition of a beggar.” [Ibid., 3.20.6–7.] Calvin does not mean that believers should pray for every whim that arises in their hearts, but that they must pray penitently in accord with God’s will, keeping His glory in focus, yearning for every request “with sincere affection of heart, and at the same time desiring to obtain it from him.” [Ibid., 3.20.6; cf. Wallace, Calvin’s Doctrine of the Christian Life, 280–281.]
   The third rule is a heartfelt sense of humility and trust in God. True prayer requires that “we yield all confidence in ourselves and humbly plead for pardon,” trusting in God’s mercy alone for blessings both spiritual and temporal, [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.20.8–10.] always remembering that the smallest drop of faith is more powerful than unbelief. [Ibid., 3.2.17.] Any other approach to God will only promote pride, which will be lethal: “If we claim for ourselves anything, even the least bit,” we will be in grave danger of destroying ourselves in God’s presence. [Ibid., 3.20.8.]
   The final rule is to have a heartfelt sense of confident hope. [Ibid, 3.20.11–14.] The confidence that our prayers will be answered does not arise from ourselves, but through the Holy Spirit working in us. In believers’ lives, faith and hope conquer fear so that we are able to “ask in faith, nothing wavering” (James 1:6, KJV). This means that true prayer is confident of success, owing to Christ and the covenant, “for the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ seals the pact which God has concluded with us.” [Cited in Niesel, The Theology of Calvin, 153.] Believers thus approach God boldly and cheerfully because such “confidence is necessary in true invocation . . . which becomes the key that opens to us the gate of the kingdom of heaven.” [Commentary on Ephesians 3:12. For a helpful explanation of Calvin’s four rules of prayer, see Don Garlington, “Calvin’s Doctrine of Prayer,” The Banner of Truth, no. 323–324 (Aug.–Sept. 1990): 45–50, and Stephen Matteucci, “A Strong Tower for Weary People: Calvin’s Teaching on Prayer,” The Founders Journal (Summer 2007): 21–23.]
   These rules may seem overwhelming—even unattainable—in the face of a holy, omniscient God. Calvin acknowledges that our prayers are fraught with weakness and failure. “No one has ever carried this out with the uprightness that was due,” he writes. [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.20.16.] But God tolerates “even our stammering and pardons our ignorance,” allowing us to gain familiarity with Him in prayer, though it be in “a babbling manner.” [Ibid.; John Calvin, Commentary on the Book of Psalms, trans. James Anderson (Edinburgh: Calvin Translation Society, 1845; repr. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2003), 2:171.] In short, we will never feel like worthy petitioners. Our checkered prayer life is often attacked by doubts, [Commentary on Matthew 21:21.] but such struggles show us our ongoing need for prayer itself as a “lifting up of the spirit” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.20.1, 5, 16; cf. Joel R. Beeke, The Quest for Full Assurance: The Legacy of Calvin and His Successors (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1999), 49.
] and continually drive us to Jesus Christ, who alone will “change the throne of dreadful glory into the throne of grace.” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.20.17.] Calvin concludes that “Christ is the only way, and the one access, by which it is granted us to come to God.” [Ibid., 3.20.19.]

—Joel R. Beeke, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 236–237.

The Prayer life of John Calvin reflects a profound sense of the majesty of God, and a deep appreciation for the privilege of communing with him in prayer. Joel Beeke writes:

Throughout his writings, Calvin offers a theology of prayer. He presents the throne room of God as glorious, holy, and sovereign, while also accessible, desirable, and precious in and through Christ. Given the rich blessings accessible to us through prayer, those who refuse to pray “neglect a treasure, buried and hidden in the earth, after it had been pointed out” [Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.20.1.] to them. They also commit idolatry by defrauding God, since prayerlessness is a blatant denial that “God is the author of every good thing.” [Ibid., 3.20.14.]
   We must persevere in pursuing precious access to God in prayer, Calvin concludes. [Ibid., 3.20.51–52.] Discouragements may abound and almost overwhelm us: “Our warfare is unceasing and various assaults arise daily.” But that gives all the more reason to discipline ourselves to persevere in prayer, even if “we must repeat the same supplications not twice or three times only, but as often as we need, a hundred and a thousand times.” [Cited in Hesselink, On Prayer: Conversations with God, 19.] Ceasing to pray when God does not answer us quickly is the surest mark that we have never become believers. [Commentary on Psalm 22:4; Wallace, Calvin, Geneva, and the Reformation, 214.]
   Calvin counsels believers not only to better methods of prayer, but to a deeper devotion and a surer access to the triune God who has given the gift of prayer. He modeled this prayer life by accompanying every public act with prayer, by providing forms of prayer, [John Calvin, Treatises on the Sacraments of the Church of Geneva, Forms of Prayer, and Confessions of Faith, trans. by Henry Beveridge (repr. Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 2002)] and by appointing days of prayer for a variety of occasions—as well as privately in his own life. [Elsie McKee, John Calvin: Writings on Pastoral Piety (New York: Paulist Press, 2001), 29, 167ff.] These merge well in the last prayer he records in his commentary on Ezekiel, which, because of failing health, he was not able to complete:

Grant, Almighty God, since we have already entered in hope upon the threshold of our eternal inheritance, and know that there is a certain mansion for us in heaven after Christ has been received there, who is our head, and the first-fruits of our salvation: Grant, I say, that we may proceed more and more in the course of thy holy calling until at length we reach the goal, and so enjoy that eternal glory of which thou affordest us a taste in this world, by the same Christ our Lord. Amen. [Commentary on Ezekiel 20:44.]

   Ultimately, for Calvin, prayer is a heavenly act, a holy and precious communing with the triune God in His glorious throne room, grounded in an assured eschatological hope. [Wallace, Calvin, Geneva, and the Reformation, 214.]
   “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1).

—Joel R. Beeke, John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, ed. Burk Parsons (Reformation Trust, 2008), 241–242.

I want to agree with John Piper on the tornado that struck the Apostate Lutheran Church of America’s national convention this Wednesday. There is a good chance he’s right. On the other hand, I agree with Scott Clark: we can’t interpret providence, nor do we need to. And then there’s this, from Lutheran (the genuine kind), novelist, and ersatz Viking Lars Walker. As a Norwegian-American raised on lutefisk and lefse, I am obligated to take anyone named Lars seriously. In any case, Piper’s reminder to consider Luke 13:4–5 is appropriate. Update: ELCA completely embraces homosexuality.

I have no doubt that Piper is right about this.

Southern Baptists flock to Malaysia.

I love this. Liberals hate Obama now, too. (Warning: contains the kind of language you would expect from sailors or trendy preachers from Seattle.)

If those narcissistic Puritans had only used 140 characters “expressing their thoughts about stuff,” we’d be asking, “Jonathan who?”

Public service message: the weapon referred to in this article is not an assault weapon. In fact, whenever the media or a politician used the term “assault weapon,” you can be sure they are never talking about the genuine article. No one wants to ban assault weapons, because no one but military and law enforcement agencies have them. What anti Second Amendment zealots are against are guns that look like assault weapons. Oh yeah, and any other firearm, as well.

Todd Bolen, previously featured on this blog here, has produced a new collection of photo CDs from Israel.

I am very excited to announce the release of a new photo collection from BiblePlaces.com and LifeintheHolyLand.com. The American Colony and Eric Matson Collection includes more than 4,000 high-resolution photographs taken by professional photographers living in Jerusalem from 1898 until the 1940s. I’ve worked with a team for the last five years organizing and improving this collection so that the photos are the highest quality, accurately identified, carefully organized, and elucidated by observations of well-known 19th-century explorers. (read more here)

I am the fortunate owner of a couple of Todd’s previous collections, and I can attest to the superb quality of both the photos and presentation.

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

HYMN XIX
The true AARON    Lev. viii. 7–9.
by John Newton (1725–1807)

SEE Aaron, God’s anointed priest,
   Within the veil appear;
In robes of mystic meaning dressed,
   Presenting Israel’s pray’r.

The plate of gold which crowns his brows,
   His holiness describes;
His breast displays, in shining rows,
   The names of all the tribes.

With the atoning blood he stands,
   Before the mercy–seat;
And clouds of incense from his hands,
   Arise with odour sweet.

Urim and Thummim near his heart,
   In rich engravings worn;
The sacred light of truth impart,
   To teach and to adorn.

Thro’ him the eye of faith descries,
   A greater Priest than he;
Thus Jesus pleads above the skies,
   For you, my friends, and me.

He bears the names of all his saints,
   Deep on his heart engrav’d;
Attentive to the state and wants
   Of all his love has sav’d.

In him a holiness complete,
   Light and perfections shine;
And wisdom, grace, and glory meet;
   A Saviour all divine.

The blood, which as a Priest he bears
   For sinners, is his own
The incense of his pray’rs and tears
   Perfume the holy throne.

In him my weary soul has rest,
   Tho’ I am weak and vile
I read my name upon his breast,
   And see the Father smile.

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

John 3:9–21
   9 Nicodemus said to Him, “How can these things be?” 10 Jesus answered and said to him, “Are you the teacher of Israel and do not understand these things? 11 Truly, truly, I say to you, we speak of what we know and testify of what we have seen, and you do not accept our testimony. 12 If I told you earthly things and you do not believe, how will you believe if I tell you heavenly things? 13 No one has ascended into heaven, but He who descended from heaven: the Son of Man. 14 As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up; 15 so that whoever believes will in Him have eternal life.
   16 “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him. 18 He who believes in Him is not judged; he who does not believe has been judged already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. 19 This is the judgment, that the Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil. 20 For everyone who does evil hates the Light, and does not come to the Light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. 21 But he who practices the truth comes to the Light, so that his deeds may be manifested as having been wrought in God.”

We have in these verses the second part of the conversation between our Lord Jesus Christ and Nicodemus. A lesson about regeneration is closely followed by a lesson about justification! The whole passage ought always to be read with affectionate reverence. It contains words which have brought eternal life to myriads of souls.
   These verses show us, firstly, what gross spiritual ignorance there may be in the mind of a great and learned man. We see a “master of Israel” unacquainted with the first elements of saving religion. Nicodemus is told about the new birth, and at once exclaims, “How can these things be?” When such was the darkness of a Jewish teacher, what must have been the state of the Jewish people? It was indeed due time for Christ to appear! The pastors of Israel had ceased to feed the people with knowledge. The blind were leading the blind, and both were falling into the ditch. (Matt. xv. 14.)
   Ignorance like that of Nicodemus is unhappily far too common in the Church of Christ. We must never be surprised if we find it in quarters where we might reasonably expect knowledge. Learning, and rank, and high ecclesiastical office are no proof that a minister is taught by the Spirit. The successors of Nicodemus, in every age, are far more numerous than the successors of St. Peter. On no point is religious ignorance so common as on the work of the Holy Ghost. That old stumbling-block, at which Nicodemus stumbled, is as much an offence to thousands in the present day as it was in the days of Christ. “The natural man receives not the things of the Spirit of God.” (1 Cor. ii. 14.) Happy is he who has been taught to prove all things by Scripture, and to call no man master upon earth. (1 Thess. v. 21; Matt. xxiii. 9.)
   These verses show us, secondly, the original source from which man’s salvation springs. That source is the love of God the Father. Our Lord says to Nicodemus, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
   This wonderful verse has been justly called by Luther, “The Bible in miniature.” No part of it, perhaps, is so deeply important as the first five words, “God so loved the world.” The love here spoken of is not that special love with which the Father regards His own elect, but that mighty pity and compassion with which He regards the whole race of mankind. Its object is not merely the little flock which He has given to Christ from all eternity, but the whole “world” of sinners, without any exception. There is a deep sense in which God loves that world. All whom He has created He regards with pity and compassion. Their sins He cannot love;—but He loves their souls. “His tender mercies are over all His works.” (Psal. cxlv. 9.) Christ is God’s gracious gift to the whole world.
   Let us take heed that our views of the love of God are Scriptural and well-defined. The subject is one on which error abounds on either side.—On the one hand we must beware of vague and exaggerated opinions. We must maintain firmly that God hates wickedness, and that the end of all who persist in wickedness will be destruction. It is not true that God’s love is “lower than hell.” It is not true that God so loved the world that all mankind will be finally saved, but that He so loved the world that He gave His Son to be the Saviour of all who believe. His love is offered to all men freely, fully, honestly, and unreservedly, but it is only through the one channel of Christ’s redemption. He that rejects Christ cuts himself off from God’s love, and will perish everlastingly.—On the other hand, we must beware of narrow and contracted opinions. We must not hesitate to tell any sinner that God loves him. It is not true that God cares for none but His own elect, or that Christ is not offered to any but those who are ordained to eternal life. There is a “kindness and love” in God towards all mankind. It was in consequence of that love that Christ came into the world, and died upon the cross. Let us not be wise above that which is written, or more systematic in our statements than Scripture itself. God has no pleasure in the death of the wicked. God is not willing that any should perish. God would have all men to be saved. God loves the world. (John v. 32; Titus iii. 4; 1 John iv. 10; 2 Pet. iii. 9; 1 Tim. ii. 4; Ezek. xxxiii. 11.)
   These verses show us, thirdly, the peculiar plan by which the love of God has provided salvation for sinners. That plan is the atoning death of Christ on the cross. Our Lord says to Nicodemus, “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.”
   By being “lifted up,” our Lord meant nothing less than His own death upon the cross. That death, He would have us know, was appointed by God to be “the life of the world.” (John vi. 51.) It was ordained from all eternity to be the great propitiation and satisfaction for man’s sin. It was the payment, by an Almighty Substitute and Representative, of man’s enormous debt to God. When Christ died upon the cross, our many sins were laid upon Him. He was made “sin” for us. He was made “a curse” for us. (2 Cor. v. 21; Gal. iii. 13.) By His death He purchased pardon and complete redemption for sinners. The bronze serpent, lifted up in the camp of Israel, brought health and cure within the reach of all who were bitten by the snakes. Christ crucified, in like manner, brought eternal life within reach of lost mankind. Christ has been lifted up on the cross, and man looking to Him by faith may be saved.
   The truth before us is the very foundation-stone of the Christian religion. Christ’s death is the Christian’s life. Christ’s cross is the Christian’s title to heaven. Christ “lifted up” and put to shame on Calvary is the ladder by which Christians “enter into the holiest,” and are at length landed in glory. It is true that we are sinners;—but Christ has suffered for us. It is true that we deserve death;—but Christ has died for us. It is true that we are guilty debtors;—but Christ has paid our debts with His own blood. This is the real Gospel! This is the good news! On this let us lean while we live. To this let us cling when we die. Christ has been “lifted up” on the cross, and has thrown open the gates of heaven to all believers.
   These verses show us, fourthly, the way in which the benefits of Christ’s death are made our own. That way is simply to put faith and trust in Christ. Faith is the same thing as believing. Three times our Lord repeats this glorious truth to Nicodemus. Twice He proclaims that “whosoever believeth shall not perish.” Once He says, “He that believeth on the Son of God is not condemned.”
   Faith in the Lord Jesus is the very key of salvation. He that has it has life, and he that has it not has not life. Nothing whatever beside this faith is necessary to our complete justification; but nothing whatever, except this faith, will give us an interest in Christ. We may fast and mourn for sin, and do many things that are right, and use religious ordinances, and give all our goods to feed the poor, and yet remain unpardoned, and lose our souls.—But if we will only come to Christ as guilty sinners, and believe on Him, our sins shall at once be forgiven, and our iniquities shall be entirely put away. Without faith there is no salvation; but through faith in Jesus, the vilest sinner may be saved.
   If we would have a peaceful conscience in our religion, let us see that our views of saving faith are distinct and clear. Let us beware of supposing that justifying faith is anything more than a sinner’s simple trust in a Saviour, the grasp of a drowning man on the hand held out for his relief.—Let us beware of mingling anything else with faith in the matter of justification. Here we must always remember faith stands entirely alone. A justified man, no doubt, will always be a holy man. True believing will always be accompanied by godly living. But that which gives a man a saving interest in Christ, is not his living, but his faith. If we would know whether our faith is genuine, we do well to ask ourselves how we are living. But if we would know whether we are justified by Christ, there is but one question to be asked. That question is, “Do we believe?”
   These verses show us, lastly, the true cause of the loss of man’s soul. Our Lord says to Nicodemus, “This is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.”
   The words before us form a suitable conclusion to the glorious tidings which we have just been considering. They completely clear God of injustice in the condemnation of sinners. They show in simple and unmistakable terms, that although man’s salvation is entirely of God, his ruin, if he is lost, will be entirely from himself. He will reap the fruit of his own sowing.
   The doctrine here laid down ought to be carefully remembered. It supplies an answer to a common cavil of the enemies of God’s truth. There is no decreed reprobation, excluding any one from heaven. “God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.” There is no unwillingness on God’s part to receive any sinner, however great his sins. God has sent “light” into the world, and if man will not come to the light, the fault is entirely on man’s side. His blood will be on his own head, if he makes shipwreck of his soul. The blame will be at his own door, if he misses heaven. His eternal misery will be the result of his own choice. His destruction will be the work of his own hand. God loved him, and was willing to save him; out he “loved darkness,” and therefore darkness must be his everlasting portion. He would not come to Christ, and therefore he could not have life. (John v. 40.)
   The truths we have been considering are peculiarly weighty and solemn. Do we live as if we believed them?—Salvation by Christ’s death is close to us today. Have we embraced it by faith, and made it our own?—Let us never rest until we know Christ as our own Saviour. Let us look to Him without delay for pardon and peace, if we have never looked before. Let us go on believing on Him, if we have already believed. “Whosoever,” is His own gracious word—“whosoever believes on Him, shall not perish, but have eternal life.”

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:140–145.

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

Explaining the process that gave us President Obama (and every other President, as well) to my children (the youngest being eight years old):

First we have the primary elections. In the primaries, there are two groups: one bad (with rare exceptions), and the other pure evil. One segment of America chooses from the bad the candidate they believe is the least bad. Another segment chooses their favorite evil candidate. Then there is the general election, in which the bad candidate runs against the evil candidate. The winner becomes President for the next four years.

Charnock lists three Uses (applications) of the doctrine of God’s Knowledge: Use I, information or instruction; Use II, comfort; and Use III, to humble sinners.

   Consider what a poor refuge is secrecy to a sinner. Not the mists of a foggy day, nor the obscurity of the darkest night, not the closest curtains, nor the deepest dungeon, can hide any sin from the eye of God. Adam is known in his thickets, and Jonah in his cabin. Achan’s wedge of gold is discerned by him, though buried in the earth, and hooded with a tent. Shall Sarah be unseen by him, when she mockingly laughs behind the door? Shall Gehazi tell a lie, and comfort himself with an imagination of his master’s ignorance, as long as God knows it? Whatsoever works men do, are not hid from God, whether done in the darkness or daylight, in the midnight darkness, or the noon-day sun: he is all eye to see, and he hath a great wrath to punish. The wheels in Ezekiel are full of eyes: a piercing eye to behold the sinner, and a swift wheel of wrath to overtake him. God is light, and of all things light is most difficultly kept out. The secretest sins are set in the light of his countenance (Ps. xc. 8), as legible to him, as if written with a sun-beam ; more visible to him than the greatest print to the sharpest eye. The fornications of the Samaritan woman, perhaps known only to her own conscience, were manifest to Christ (John iv. 16). There is nothing so secretly done, but there is an infallible witness to prepare a charge. Though God be invisible to us, we must not imagine we are so to him; it is a vanity, therefore, to think we can conceal ourselves from God, by concealing the notions of God from our sense and practice. If men be as close from the eyes of all men, as from those of the sun, yea, if they could separate themselves from their own shadow, they could not draw themselves from God's understanding: how, then, can darkness shelter us, or crafty artifices defend us? With what shame will sinners be filled, when God, who hath traced their steps, and writ their sins in a book, shall make a repetition of their ways, and unveil the web of their wickedness!

—Stephen Charnock, The Existence and Attributes of God (Baker Books, 2005), 1:491–492.

Sixteenth century Roman Catholic apologist Robert Belarmine (1542–1621) proposed “five rules whereby true and genuine traditions of the apostles [traditions held by Rome as equal to scripture] may be distinguished.” William Whitaker listed those rules along with his rebuttals. On the first:

   The first rule is this: Whatsoever the universal church holds as an article of faith, and which is not found in the Bible, is without any doubt apostolical. The reason of this rule is, because the church cannot err. That the church cannot err, he proves by a twofold argument: first, because it is the ground of truth; secondly, because, as Christ says, the gates of hell shall not prevail against that rock upon which the church is built. I reply: The present occasion does not permit me to handle the question, whether or not the church may err [Whitaker has already done so earlier in this work]: there will be another fitting place for discussing that subject. Meanwhile, I return two answers.
   First, I demand what they mean by the universal church? For although a very great number of men everywhere throughout the churches may have embraced some practice or opinion, it does not therefore follow that it should be ascribed to the whole church; because there may be many who condemn it, and amongst these the church may subsist. So when Christ was upon earth, there were many traditions of the Pharisees which had become prescriptive, such as are mentioned Matt. xv. and Mark vii.; some of which related to faith, and some to practice. These were universal (if those are to be styled universal which are observed by the great majority), and had prevailed in the church through a long course of years and ages; for they are called the traditions “of the elders.” Does it therefore follow, either that these were divine, or that all men who belonged to the church held them, especially when it is certain that some of them were plainly impious? Superstitious rites, then, and perverse opinions, and traditions repugnant to piety, may prevail amongst men professing God’s holy religion. For the church does not always consist of the greatest or the most numerous, but sometimes of the fewest and the meanest.
   Secondly, Bellarmine cannot prove that any popish tradition was observed in all churches. For, to take his own example, many churches have entertained doubts concerning the number of the canonical books, as we have shewn in the first controversy. It follows, therefore, that it was no apostolical tradition, because it was not received by the universal church, according to this rule of Bellarmine’s. . . . He says that all points which the church holds as articles of faith were delivered by the apostles or prophets, in writing or by word of mouth, and that the church is not now governed by new revelations, but remains content with that which it received from the apostles. If this be true, then the church cannot now deliver any thing as an article of faith which was not heretofore, from the very times of the apostles, received and preserved as an article of faith. But the papists affirm that the church can now prescribe some new article of faith, which had not been esteemed in former ages as a necessary dogma. That the virgin Mary was conceived without original sin, was formerly thought a free opinion, not a necessary part of faith . . . But, at present, it is not permitted amongst papists to retain the ancient liberty of opinion upon this subject; and he is hardly deemed a catholic, who ascribes any even the slightest taint of sin to Mary. The university of Paris admits no one to any of the higher degrees in divinity, who does not solemnly swear both that he believes that Mary was conceived in immaculate purity, and that he will constantly persevere in the assertion of the spotless conception of the virgin. . . . [Bellarmine] says that the church is not now governed by new revelations, but remains content with those things which they who were the ministers of the word handed down. So beautifully do they agree among themselves. Some say that a new dogma, which never was such before, may be prescribed by the church; others, that the church is not governed by new revelations, but remains content with those things which were delivered from the beginning. So that either Bellarmine’s rule is false, or these articles of faith cannot and ought not to be considered necessary. But I demand of Bellarmine, whether it was delivered down by the apostles, that the epistle to the Hebrews was written by Paul. All the papists allow it. [Bishop Lindanus (1525–1588, )] affirms that it is no less necessary to believe it Paul’s, than to believe its canonicity. If that be true, then this is an apostolical tradition: if it be apostolical, then it was always received by the universal church. But it may be easily shewn that many churches thought otherwise; yea, that the Roman church itself was once in the contrary opinion, as appears from Jerome’s catalogue of illustrious men, under the title Caius. Either therefore the Roman church erred in the one tradition or in the other; or else at least this first rule of Bellarmine’s is not true, certain, and perpetual.

—William Whitaker, Disputations on the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 2005), 503–504.

Having completed John Calvin: A Heart for Devotion, Doctrine, and Doxology, the next church history book in my queue is Worldly Saints by Leland Ryken.

You’ve no doubt heard the terms “puritan” and “puritanical” used pejoratively; but those who use those words in that way know nothing of the faith and character of the Puritans. In truth, most of us probably know little about them; so when I discovered Worldly Saints: The Puritans as They Really Were by Leland Ryken, I knew I had to get it and put it near the of my to-read stack.

The Puritans, as you likely know, were Calvinists. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that truth was extremely important to them. Ryken writes:

   The Puritans placed a high premium on religious truth. The intellectual content of a person’s faith was not an indifferent matter for them. Thomas Hooker claimed that “all truth, though the least that God reveals , is it not better than all the world?” John Owen urged Christians to “look on truth as a pearl, as that which is better than all the world, bought with any price.”

—Leland Ryken, Worldly Saints: The Puritans as They Really Were (Academie Books, 1986), 17.

It should not be believed, however, that bare dogma was the sum of the Puritans’ religion. The possibility that religious belief could be intellectual without touching the heart was very real to them. They were diligent in self-examination (perhaps sometimes too much so) as a defense against that deplorable condition.

   The idea of cold or coldness and the synonyms for dull and dullness, were major spiritual aversions for the Puritans. Richard Rogers recoiled from “the coldness and half-service . . . Which is in the world.” wile Cotton Mather warned, “beware of . . . A strong head and a cold heart.” Samuel Ward recorded in his diary the self-accusation “How on the 15 and 16 of February thou was very dull in God’s service.” as a counterpart to these rejections of coldness, zeal and zealous were recurrent positive value-terms in Puritan vocabulary.
   Spiritual complacency and mediocrity were the greatest of all Puritan aversions. Richard Baxter wrote,

As mere idleness and forgetting God will keep a soul as certainly from heaven as a profane, licentious, fleshly life, so also will the usual company of such idle, forgetful, negligent persons as surly keep our hearts from heaven, as the company of men more dissolute and profane. [The Saints’ Everlasting Rest (Fleming H. Revell, 1962), 125.]

Samuel Willard lamented that in New England “forwardness and zeal for God is almost out of date” while “lukewarm-confession is much in credit.”

—Ibid.

The Puritans were known as a hard-working people. Even today, when the words “puritan” and “puritanical” are meant as insults, one hears references to the “puritan work ethic.” Few, however, understand the motivation for that ethic, which stemmed from a conviction that Jesus was Lord of all of life. Leland Ryken writes:

   To understand Puritan attitudes toward work, we must take a look at the background against which they were reacting. For centuries it had been customary to divide types of work into the two categories of “sacred” and “secular.” Sacred work was work done by members of the religious profession. All other work bore the stigma of being secular.   This cleavage between sacred and secular work can be traced all the way back to the Jewish Talmud. One of the prayers, obviously written from the scribe’s viewpoint, is as follows:

I thank thee, O Lord, my God, that thou hast given me my lot with those who sit in the house of learning, and not with those who sit at the street-corners; for I am early to work and they are early to work; I am early to work on the words of the Torah, and they are early to work on things of no moment. I weary myself, and they weary themselves; I weary myself and profit thereby, and they weary themselves to no profit. I run, and they run; I run towards the life of the age to come, and they run towards the pit of destruction.

   The same division of work into categories of sacred and secular became a leading feature of medieval Roman Catholicism. The attitude was formulated already in the fourth century by Eusebius, who wrote,

Two ways of life were given by the law of Christ to his church. The one is above nature, and beyond common human living. . . . Wholly and permanently separate from the common customary life of mankind, it devotes itself to the service of God alone. . . . Such then is the perfect form of the Christian life. And the other, more humble, more human, permits men to . . . have minds for farming, for trade, and the other more secular interests as well as for religion. . . . And a kind of secondary grade of piety is attributed to them.

This sacred-secular dichotomy was exactly what the Puritans rejected as the starting point of their theory of work.
[Leland Ryken, Worldly Saints: The Puritans as They Really Were (Academie Books, 1986), 24.]

The Puritans, following the lead of Luther and Calvin, believed that all honest labor was holy. The differences between sacred secular were extrinsic only. The most common, menial labor was intrinsically as valuable and God-glorifying as the most honored vocations, including preaching. According to Hugh Latimer,

This is a wonderful thing, that the Savior of the world, and the King above all kings, was not ashamed to labor; yea, and to use so simple an occupation. Here he did sanctify all manner of occupations. [Ibid., 25.]

The Christian faith of the laborer was believed to sanctify the most humble calling. John Cotton wrote:

Faith . . . encourageth a man in his calling to the homeliest and difficultest. . . . Such homely employments a carnal heart knows not how to submit unto; but now faith having put us into a calling, if it require some homely employment, it encourageth us in it. . . . So faith is ready to embrace any homely service his calling leads him to, which a carnal heart would blush to be seen in. [Ibid.]

This was the puritan’s view of every activity. Ryken continues:

   For the Puritans, all of life was God’s. Their goal was to integrate their daily work with their religious devotion to God. Richard Steele asserted that it was in the shop “where you may most confidently expect the presence and blessing of God.” The Puritans revolutionized attitudes toward daily work when they raised the possibility that “every step and stroke in your trade is sanctified.” John Milton, in his famous Areopagitica, satirized the businessman who leaves his religion at home, “trading all day without his religion.” . . .
   The Puritan goal was to serve God, not simply within one’s work in the world, but through that work. John Cotton hinted at this when he wrote,

A true believing Christian . . . lives in his vocation by his faith. Not only my spiritual life but even my civil life in this world, and all the life I live, is by the faith of the Son of God: He exempts no life from the agency of his faith.

And Cotton Mather said,

A Christian should be able to give a good account, not only what is his occupation, but also what he is in his occupation. It is not enough that a Christian have an occupation; but he must mind his occupation as it becomes a Christian.

With the Puritan emphasis on all of life as God’s, it is not surprising that a late seventeenth-century pamphlet entitled St. Paul the Tentmaker could note that the Protestant movement had fostered a “delight in secular employments.” [Ibid., 25–26.]

As we note the passing of Senator Edward M. Kennedy, I want to draw attention to the strong pro-life stand he took during his career. The following is from a letter he wrote in response to a pro-choice constituent:

While the deep concern of a woman bearing an unwanted child merits consideration and sympathy, it is my personal feeling that the legalization of abortion on demand is not in accordance with the value which our civilization places on human life. Wanted or unwanted, I believe that human life, even at its earliest stages, has certain rights which must be recognized — the right to be born, the right to love, the right to grow old.

On the question of the individual’s freedom of choice there are easily available birth-control methods and information which women may employ to prevent or postpone pregnancy. But once life has begun, no matter at what stage of growth, it is my belief that termination should not be decided merely by desire. . . .

When history looks back to this era it should recognize this generation as one which cared about human beings enough to halt the practice of war, to provide a decent living for every family, and to fulfill its responsibility to its children from the very moment of conception.

I would like to praise Senator Kennedy for his defense of human life, but, sadly, that was in 1971. His views changed a bit as time passed.

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

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

From Justice’s consuming flame,
   Saviour, I fly to thee;
O look not on me as I am,
   But as I fain would be.

Deserted in the way I lie,
   No cure for me is found:
Thou, good Samaritan, pass by,
   And bind up every wound.

O may I in the final day
   At thy right-hand appear!
Take thou my sins out of the way,
   Who didst the burden bear.

What though the fiery serpent’s bite
   Hath poisoned ev’ry vein—
I’ll not despair, but keep in sight
   The wounds of Jesus slain.

My soul thou wilt from death retrieve,
   For sorrow grant me joy,
Thy power is mightier to save
   Than Satan’s to destroy.

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

John 3:22–36
John the Baptist Witnesses Concerning Christ

On one account, this passage deserves the special attention of all devout readers of the Bible. It contains the last testimony of John the Baptist concerning our Lord Jesus Christ. That faithful man of God was the same at the end of his ministry that he was at the beginning—the same in his views of self,—the same in his views of Christ. Happy is that church whose ministers are as steady, bold, and constant to one thing, as John the Baptist!
   We have, firstly, in these verses, a humbling example of the petty jealousies and party-spirit which may exist among professors of religion. We are told, that the disciples of John the Baptist were offended, because the ministry of Jesus began to attract more attention than that of their master. “They came unto John, and said unto him, Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom thou barest witness, behold the same baptizeth, and all men come to him.”
   The spirit exhibited in this complaint, is unhappily too common in the Churches of Christ. The succession of these complainers has never failed. There are never lacking religions professors who care far more for the increase of their own party, than for the increase of true Christianity; and who cannot rejoice in the spread of religion, if it spreads anywhere except within their own denomination. There is a generation which can see no good being done, except in the ranks of its own congregations; and which seems ready to shut men out of heaven, if they will not enter therein under their banner.
   The true Christian must watch and pray against the spirit here manifested by John’s disciples. It is very insidious, very contagious, and very injurious to the cause of religion. Nothing so defiles Christianity and gives the enemies of truth such occasion to blaspheme, as jealousy and party-spirit among Christians. Wherever there is real grace, we should be ready and willing to acknowledge it, even though it may be outside our own pale. We should strive to say with the apostle, “If Christ be preached, I rejoice, yea! and will rejoice.” (Phil. i. 18.) If good is done, we ought to be thankful, though it even may not be done in what we think the best way. If souls are saved, we ought to be glad, whatever be the means that God may think fit to employ.
   We have, secondly, in these verses, a splendid pattern of true and godly humility. We see in John the Baptist a very different spirit from that displayed by his disciples. He begins by laying down the great principle, that acceptance with man is a special gift of God; and that we must therefore not presume to find fault, when others have more acceptance than ourselves. “A man can receive nothing except it be given him from heaven.” He goes on to remind his followers of his repeated declaration, that one greater than himself was coming;— “I said, I am not the Christ.” He tells those who his office compared to that of Christ, is that of the bridegroom’s friend, compared to the bridegroom. And finally, he solemnly affirms, that Christ must and will become greater and greater, and that he himself must become less and less important, until, like a star eclipsed by the rising sun, he has completely disappeared.
   A frame of mind like this, is the highest degree of grace to which mortal man can attain. The greatest saint in the sight of God, is the man who is most thoroughly “clothed with humility.” (1 Peter v. 5.) Would we know the prime secret of being men of the stamp of Abraham, and Moses, and Job, and David, and Daniel, and St. Paul, and John the Baptist? They were all eminently humble men. Living at different ages, and enjoying very different degrees of light, in this matter at least they were all agreed. In themselves they saw nothing but sin and weakness. To God they gave all the praise of what they were. Let us walk in their steps. Let us covet earnestly the best gifts; but above all, let us covet humility. The way to true honour is to be humble. No man ever was so praised by Christ, as the very man who says here, “I must decrease,” the humble John the Baptist.
   We have, thirdly, in these verses, an instructive declaration of Christ’s honour and dignity. John the Baptist teaches his disciples once more, the true greatness of the Person whose growing popularity offended them. Once more, and perhaps for the last time, he proclaims Him as one worthy of all honour and praise. He uses one striking expression after another, to convey a correct idea of the majesty of Christ. He speaks of Him as “the bridegroom” of the Church,—as “him that comes from above,”—as “him whom God has sent,”—as “him to whom the Spirit is given without measure,”—as Him “whom the Father loves,” and into “whose hands all things are given,”—to believe in whom is life everlasting, and to reject whom is eternal ruin. Each of these phrases is full of deep meaning, and would supply matter for a long sermon. All show the depth and height of John’s spiritual attainments. More honourable things are nowhere written concerning Jesus, than these verses recorded as spoken by John the Baptist.
   Let us endeavor in life and death, to hold the same views of the Lord Jesus, to which John here gives expression. We can never make too much of Christ. Our thoughts about the Church, the ministry, and the sacraments, may easily become too high and extravagant. We can never have too high thoughts about Christ, can never love Him too much, trust Him too implicitly, lay too much weight upon Him, and speak too highly in His praise. He is worthy of all the honour that we can give Him. He will be all in heaven. Let us see to it, that He is all in our hearts on earth.
   We have, lastly, in these verses, a broad assertion of the nearness and presentness of the salvation of true Christians. John the Baptist declares, “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life.” He is not intended to look forward with a sick heart to a far distant privilege. He “hath” everlasting life as soon as he believes. Pardon, peace, and a complete title to Heaven, are an immediate possession. They become a believer’s own, from the very moment he puts faith in Christ. They will not be more completely his own, if he lives to the age of Methuselah.
   The truth before us, is one of the most glorious privileges of the Gospel. There are no works to be done, no conditions to be fulfilled, no price to be paid, no wearing years of probation to be passed, before a sinner can be accepted with God. Let him only believe on Christ, and he is at once forgiven. Salvation is close to the chief of sinners. Let him only repent and believe, and this day it is his own. By Christ all that believe are at once justified from all things.
   Let us leave the whole passage with one grave and heart-searching thought. If faith in Christ brings with it present and immediate privileges, to remain unbelieving is to be in a state of tremendous peril. If heaven is very near to the believer, hell must be very near to the unbeliever. The greater the mercy that the Lord Jesus offers, the greater will be the guilt of those who neglect and reject it. “He that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.”

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:169–173.

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

I’ve been on the road today, attending the funeral of an aunt who passed away on Thursday. She had been quite ill in her final days, and as she was a believer, we rejoice that she has now gone home. She left behind a husband, two children, and six grandchildren, who we pray will be comforted in her absence.

      Precious in the sight of the Lord
      Is the death of His godly ones.
                          —Psalm 116:15