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

The Great Discovery

Glorious God,

I bless thee that I know thee.
I once lived in the world, but was ignorant
      of its Creator,
   was partaker of thy providences, but knew not
      the Provider
   was blind while enjoying the sunlight,
   was deaf to all things spiritual, with voices
      all around me,
   understood many things, but had no knowledge
      of thy ways,
   saw the world, but did not see Jesus only.
O happy day, when in thy love’s sovereignty
   thou didst look down on me, and call me by grace.
Then did the dead heart begin to beat,
   the darkened eye glimmer with light,
   the dull ear catch thy echo,
   and I turned to thee and found thee,
   a God ready to hear, willing to save.
Then did I find my heart at enmity to thee,
   vexing thy Spirit;
Then did I fall at thy feet and hear thee thunder,
   ‘The soul that sinneth, it must die’,
But when grace made me to know thee,
   and admire a God who hated sin,
   thy terrible justice held my will submissive.
My thoughts were then as knives cutting my head.
Then didst thou come to me in silken robes of love,
   and I saw thy Son dying that I might live,
   and in that death I found my all.
My soul doth sing at the remembrance of
   that peace;
The gospel cornet brought a sound unknown
   to me before that reached my heart — and I lived —
   never to lose my hold on Christ or his hold on me.
Grant that I may always weep to the praise of
      mercy found,
   and tell others as long as I live,
   that thou art a sin-pardoning God,
   taking the blasphemer and the ungodly,
   and washing them from their deepest stain.

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

John 5:30–39

I can do nothing on My own initiative As I hear, I judge; and My judgment is just, because I do not seek My own will, but the will of Him who sent Me.

Witness of John the Baptist

Witness of the Works of Christ

Witness of the Father

Witness of the Scriptures

In these verses we see the proof of our Lord Jesus Christ being the promised Messiah, set forth before the Jews in one view. Four different witnesses are brought forward. Four kinds of evidence are offered. His Father in heaven,—His forerunner, John the Baptist,—the miraculous works He had done,—the Scriptures, which the Jews professed to honour,—each and all are named by our Lord, as testifying that He was the Christ, the Son of God. Hard must those hearts have been which could hear such testimony; and yet remain unmoved! But it only proves the truth of the old saying,—that unbelief does not arise so much from lack of evidence, as from lack of will to believe.
   Let us observe for one thing in this passage, the honour Christ puts on His faithful servants. See how He speaks of John the Baptist.—“He bore witness of the truth;”—“He was a burning and a shining light.” John had probably passed away from his earthly labours when these words were spoken. He had been persecuted, imprisoned, and put to death by Herod,—none interfering, none trying to prevent his murder. But this murdered disciple was not forgotten by his Divine Master. If no one else remembered him, Jesus did. He had honoured Christ, and Christ honoured him.
   These things ought not to be overlooked. They are written to teach us that Christ cares for all His believing people, and never forgets them. Forgotten and despised by the world, perhaps, they are never forgotten by their Saviour. He knows where they dwell, and what their trials are. A book of remembrance is written for them. “Their tears are all in His bottle.” (Psalm lvi. 8.) Their names are engraved on the palms of His hands. He notices all they do for Him in this evil world, though they think it not worth notice, and He will confess it one day publicly, before His Father and the holy angels. He that bore witness to John the Baptist never changes. Let believers remember this. In their worst estate they may boldly say with David,—“I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh upon me.” (Psalm xl. 17.)
   Let us observe, for another thing, the honour Christ puts upon miracles, as an evidence of His being the Messiah. He says,—“The works which the Father hath given me to finish, the same works that I do, bear witness of me that the Father hath sent me.”
   The miracles of the Lord receive far less attention, in the present day, as proofs of His Divine mission, than they ought to do. Too many regard them with a silent incredulity, as things which, not having seen, they cannot be expected to care for. Not a few openly avow that they do not believe in the possibility of such things as miracles, and would like to strike them out of the Bible as weak stories, which, like burdensome lumber, should be cast overboard, to lighten the ship.
   But, after all, there is no getting over the fact, that in the days when our Lord was upon earth, His miracles produced an immense effect on the minds of men. They aroused attention to Him who worked them. They excited inquiry, if they did not convert. They were so many, so public, and so incapable of being explained away, that our Lord’s enemies could only say that they were done by satanic agency. That they were done, they could not deny. “This man,” they said, “doeth many miracles.” (John xi. 47.) The facts which wise men pretend to deny now, no one pretended to deny eighteen hundred years ago.
   Let the enemies of the Bible take our Lord’s last and greatest miracle—His own resurrection from the dead—and disprove it if they can. When they have done that, it will be time to consider what they say about miracles in general. They have never answered the evidence of it yet, and they never will. Let the friends of the Bible not be moved by objections against miracles, until that one miracle has been fairly disposed of. If that is proved unassailable, they need not care much for quibbling arguments against other miracles. If Christ did really rise from the dead by His own power, there is none of His mighty works which man need hesitate to believe.
   Let us observe, lastly, in these verses, the honour that Christ puts upon the Scriptures. He refers to them in concluding His list of evidences, as the great witnesses to Him. “Search the Scriptures,” He says: “these are they which testify of me.”
   The “Scriptures” of which our Lord speaks are of course the Old Testament. And His words show the important truth which too many are apt to overlook, that every part of our Bibles is meant to teach us about Christ. Christ is not merely in the Gospels and Epistles. Christ is to be found directly and indirectly in the Law, the Psalms, and the Prophets. In the promises to Adam, Abraham, Moses, and David,—in the types and emblems of the ceremonial law,—in the predictions of Isaiah and the other prophets,—Jesus, the Messiah, is everywhere to be found in the Old Testament.
   How is it that men see these things so little? The answer is plain. They do not “search the Scriptures.” They do not dig into that wondrous mine of wisdom and knowledge, and seek to become acquainted with its contents. Simple, regular reading of our Bibles is the grand secret of establishment in the faith. Ignorance of the Scriptures is the root of all error.
   And now what will men believe, if they do not believe the Divine mission of Christ? Great indeed is the obstinacy of infidelity. A cloud of witnesses testify that Jesus was the Son of God. To talk of lacking evidence is childish folly. The plain truth is, that the chief seat of unbelief is the heart. Many do not wish to believe, and therefore remain unbelievers.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:300–302

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

I am not a sports fan. There are certain sports that I enjoy occasionally, but when it comes right down to it, I couldn’t care less. That doesn’t mean I can’t muster a strong opinion on particular games or teams. Those opinions are usually manifested in dislike for teams who play the games about which I couldn’t care less. No, it isn’t actually the teams I dislike; it’s the cities, states, or other entities they represent, and what they represent, that I dislike. In short, it’s usually something political.

For example, I could never be a Redskins fan, even though the political incorrectness of their name is attractive. What the Washington machine has been doing to my beloved Constitution since long before Il Duce took power requires me to oppose all things DC. I can’t tell you why I oppose the 49ers; this is a family blog, and besides, I might get being charged with a hate crime. Closer to home, the Vikings have my indirect disdain. Al Franken is why. Well, not Al Franken per se, but the road they have long been traveling that has led to Al Franken.

Being married to a native cheesehead, Minnesota-hate has been quite convenient — until Brett Favre went to the Vikings, that is. My wife has been in quite a dither over the whole situation. Favre was the hero of Green Bay for so long that it has been difficult to separate Packer-fanhood from Favre-fanhood. She has even been heard to suggest, with the agony of a woman in labor, that she might have to root for the Vikings if they make the Superbowl. I, supportive husband that I am, have suggested what a beautiful irony it would be if the Viking’s first Superbowl win was led by Favre, in his first year as a Viking, after defeating Green Bay in the playoffs.

Not everyone, it might interest you to know, appreciates irony.

So there we were, yesterday afternoon, in front of the tube waiting for the Packer-Viking tip-off, or first pitch, or whatever it is they do on a football court. Well, one of us was waiting. I was daydreaming about something profound (I’m sure, though I don’t remember) when I was rudely yanked from my reverie by a sound reminiscent of my only professional hockey match (at the beginning of the first inning, the North Stars fan behind me was instructing his young son in court-side etiquette as the Detroit Redwings took the field). The Packer fans were booing Brett Favre! Now some of this post might be taken frivolously, but please take me very seriously when I say I was disgusted. Such shameful behavior! Disgraceful!

Anyway, there was only one thing I could do: I launched into a rant against unsportsmanlike behavior, in which I repeated the adjectives above repeatedly (incessantly, some might say, but she’s exaggerating) and decreed that the support of the entire household was to be thrown solidly behind Favre and the Vikings. Shocking, I know, but such was the heat of my fury. So there I was, all afternoon, cheering loudly for a bunch of guys in purple from the Al Franken state performing some of the most meaningless (or is that least meaningful?) antics imaginable. Alas, how low I had descended!

Not really. I went back to my profound ponderings without another thought. I needed a nap.

A word from William Gurnall on the things that would keep us from Christ:

Satan hath his instruments to oppose the messengers and overtures which God sends by them to bring the sinner out of Satan’s rule.  When Moses comes to deliver Israel out of Egyptian bondage, up start Jannes and Jambres to resist him.  When Paul preacheth to the deputy, the devil hath his chaplain at court to hinder him—Elymas, one that was full of all subtlety and mischief.  Some or other, to be sure, he will find, when God is parleying with a sinner, and persuading him to come over to Christ, that shall labour to clog the work.  Either carnal friends—these he sends to plead his cause; or old companions in wickedness—these bestir them; one while [by] labouring to jeer him out of his new way, or, if that take not, by turning their old love into bitter wrath against him for playing the apostate and leaving him so.  Or if yet he will not be stopped in his way, then he hath his daubing preachers, still like Job’s messengers the last the worst, who with their soul-flattering, or rather murdering doctrine, shall go about to heal his wound ‘slightly.’  Now as ever you desire to get out of Satan’s bondage, have a care of all these; harden thyself against the entreaties of carnal friends and relations.  Resolve, that if thy children should hang about thy knees to keep thee from Christ, thou wilt throw them away; [resolve], if thy father and mother should lie prostrate at thy foot, rather than not go to Christ, to go over their very backs to him.  Never can we part with their love upon such advantageous terms as these.  And for thy brethren in iniquity, I hope thou dost not mean to stay while [i.e. until] thou hast their good-will; then even ask the devil’s also.  Heaven is but little worth if thou hast not a heart to despise a little shame, and bear a few frumps [i.e. taunts or mockings] from profane Ishmaels for thy hopes of it.  Let them spit on thy face, Christ will wipe it off; let them laugh, so thou winnest.  If they follow not thy example before they die, the shame will be their own; God himself shall spit it on their face before men and angels, and then kick them into hell.  And lastly, escape but the snare of those flatterers, who use their tongues only to lick sinners’ consciences whole with their soothing doctrine, and thou art fair for a Christ; ask not counsel of them; they may go about to give you ease, but all those stitches with which they sow up thy wounds, must be ripped open, or thou diest for it.

—William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002), 1:158–159.

One of the Pharisee’s biggest peeves with Jesus was his habit of associating with sinners; so they were particularly annoyed when he attended a party in his honor at the house of Levi the tax collector (i.e. Matthew, Luke 5:27ff). John MacArthur writes:

   That a rabbi would be willing to fraternize at a party with such people was utterly repugnant to the Pharisees. It was diametrically opposed to all their doctrines about separation and ceremonial uncleanness. Here was yet another pet issue of the Pharisees, and Jesus was openly violating their standards, knowing full well that they were watching him closely. From their perspective, it must have seemed as if He was deliberately flaunting His contempt for their system.
   Because He was. Remember an important fact we stressed in the previous chapter; all the friction that has taken place out in the open thus far between Jesus and Israel’s religious elite has been entirely at His instigation. As far as we know from Scripture, they had not yet voiced a single unprovoked criticism or public accusation against him.
   Even now, the Pharisees were not yet bold enough to complain to Jesus directly. They sought out His disciples and murmured their protest to them. Again, all three Synoptics stress that the Pharisees took their grievances to the disciples. It was a craven attempt to blindside Jesus by provoking a debate with His followers instead. I like the way Luke says it; “The Pharisees and their scribes began grumbling at His disciples” (Luke 5:30 NASB).
   But Jesus overheard (Matthew 9:12; Mark 2:17), and He answered the Pharisees directly, with a single statement that became the definitive motto for His interaction with the self-righteous Sanhedrin and their ilk: “It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick; I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:17 NASB). For sinners and tax collectors seeking relief fro the burden of their sin, Jesus had nothing but good news. To the self-righteous religious experts, He had nothing to say at all.
   Harsh? By postmodern standards, this was a terribly strident thing to say. And (as many people today would quickly point out) there was virtually no possibility that a comment like this would help sway the Pharisees to Jesus’ point of view. It was likelier to increase their hostility against Him.
   And yet it was the right thing say at this moment. It was the truth they needed to hear. The fact that they were not “open” to it did not alter Jesus’ commitment to speaking the truth—without toning it down, without bending it to fit His audience’s tastes and preferences, without setting the facts of the gospel aside to speak to their “felt needs” instead.

—John MacArthur, The Jesus You Can’t Ignore (Thomas Nelson, 2009), 105–106.

Nothing too serious here today . . .

I spent a few minutes YouTubing last night. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit it, but with one click leading to another, in a very short time I had forgotten what I was looking for in the first place. Anyway, I ran across a video posted by a “sanderson1611” (guess what one of his pet doctrines is) entitled Charles H Spurgeon Exposed!!!

“sanderson1611” (I love how these KJVO guys who don’t use the 1611, have probably never seen one, all use “1611” in their screen names, church signs, etc.) is apparently an equal opportunity exposer, having exposed heretics as diverse as Kirk Cameron and Peter S Ruckman!!! (put a great big [sic] after all odd punctuation, capitalization, etc. in this post; it’s a fundy-KJVO thing) He also seems to know a lot about hell. John Hagee is not merely a heretic, but a “Heretic from Hell.” “Billy Graham is going to Hell.” A “sermon” is preached on “A book Straight Out of Hell” (hint: it doesn’t include the digits 1611).

I think it’s only fair that I EXPOSE SANDERSON1611!!!!!!!! Sanderson1611 is Stephen L. Anderson of Faithful Word Baptist Church, Phoenix Arizona. You might know him from his very helpful semi-famous sermon on biblical urination. Pastor Sanderson maintains a site called The Repentance Blacklist. You might think it’s a list of HERETICS!!! who need to REPENT!!! or they will go to HELL!!! and I suppose it is, but what they need to repent of is — hang on — preaching repentance. Conspicuously absent from the list is John MacArthur, perhaps the most famous preacher of “Lordship Salvation”; but he promises “many more to be added very soon.” So I feel I must warn you that Sanderson himself is, in fact, a HERETIC!!! I can’t judge, however, whether or not he is Going To Hell!!!

But now I’m rambling. Back to Spurgeon . . .

The thought that came to mind immediately was this: here we are, in the year 2009. Spurgeon has been gone for 117 years, and for all those years has been revered by the greatest theologians of the church. His vast catalogue of works has been published for all to see, so there has never been any mystery surrounding his doctrine. What Spurgeon was is and always has been well known. Isn’t it pretty far-fetched, then, to believe that we have been waiting all these years for some young weenie to expose (!!!) him?

What if the WWJD fad had caught on with preachers? What if preachers asked, “How would Jesus preach?” and then actually aspired to follow his example? Things might be different in a lot of pulpits; because Jesus’ preaching showed no sensitivity to fashion and trends, or to the preferences of his hearers. MacArthur writes:

. . . consider how Jesus’ preaching might come across if He spoke that way in a stadium filled with twenty-first-century evangelicals. Because let’s be candid: Jesus’ style of preaching was nothing at all like most of the popular preaching we hear today—and His style of preaching isn’t likely to generate the kind of enthusiastic arm waving and feel-good atmosphere today’s Christians typically like to see at their mass meetings and outdoor music festivals.
   Survey the current plethora of websites devoted to supplying preachers with prefabricated sermon material, and you’ll get a very clear picture of what constitutes “great preaching” in the minds of most twenty-first-century evangelicals: trendiness; funny anecdotes; slick packaging; clever audio-visual aids; and short, stylish, topical homilies on themes borrowed from pop culture. Favorite subjects include marriage and sex, human relationships, self improvement, personal success, the pursuit of happiness, and anything else that pleases the audience—especially if the topic or sermon title can easily be tied into the latest hit movie, must-watch TV series, or popular song. In the trendiest churches, you are more likely to hear the preacher quote lyrics from Bono and U2 than from David and the Psalms. One megachurch sponsored a four-part sermon series in which their pastor did a word-by-word exegesis of passages taken from Dr. Seuss books, starting with Horton Hatches the Egg. The pastor of one of America’s five largest churches put a king-size bed on the platform as a prop while he preached a five-week series on sex. A year or so later, the same church made national headlines by promoting yet another series with a “sex challenge” so blatantly inappropriate that even some in the secular media expressed shock and outrage.
   Such shenanigans come under the rubric of relevance in the catalog of contemporary church-growth strategies. Sermons featuring straight biblical exposition, precise doctrine, difficult truths, or negative-sounding doctrines are strongly discouraged by virtually all he leading gurus of cultural relevance. And the people filling the evangelical pews “love to have it so” (Jeremiah 5:31). “Speak to us smooth things” (Isaiah 30:10) is their constant demand. Teaching, reproof, correction, and training in righteousness, (cf. 2. Timothy 3:16) are out. Catering to itchy ears is in (cf. 4:23). No truly clued-in preacher nowadays would think to fill his message with reproof, rebuke, or exhortation. (cf. 4:3). Instead, he does his best to suit the felt needs, preoccupations, and passions of the audience. Many contemporary pastors study pop culture as diligently as the Puritans used to study Scripture. They let congregational opinion polls determine what they should preach, and they are prepared to shift directions quickly if the latest survey tells them their approval ratings are beginning to drop.
   That, of course, is precisely what Paul told Timothy not to do. “Preach the word! . . . in season and out of season” (v. 2).
   The contemporary craving for shallow sermons that please and entertain is at least partly rooted in the popular myth that Jesus Himself was always likable, agreeable, winsome, and at the cutting edge of His culture’s fashions. The domesticated, meek-and-mild Savior of today’s Sunday-school literature would never knowingly or deliberately offend someone in a sermon—would He?
   As we have seen, even in a cursory look at Jesus’ preaching ministry reveals a totally different picture. Jesus sermons usually featured hard truths, harsh words, and high-octane controversy. His own disciples complained that His preaching was too hard to hear!
   That’s why Jesus’ preaching heads the list of things that make Him impossible to ignore. No preacher has ever been more bold, prophetic, or provocative. No style of public ministry could possibly be more irksome to those who prefer a comfortable religion. Jesus made it impossible for any hearer to walk away indifferent. Some left angry; some were deeply troubled by what He had to say; many had their eyes opened; and many more hardened their hearts against hiss message. Some became His disciples, and others became His adversaries. But no one who listened to Him preach for very long could possibly remain unchanged or apathetic.

—John MacArthur, The Jesus You Can’t Ignore (Thomas Nelson, 2009), 161–162.

It should be obvious to anyone with the slightest political savvy that, as a people shifts more responsibility onto government, the liberty enjoyed by that people decreases proportionally. Yet a good share of Americans apparently don’t know that, or, I suspect, don’t care. But for those of us who value liberty above the chimera of state-guaranteed provision, these words of Milton Friedman, originally published forty-seven years ago, are a timely reminder today, as increasingly more people are holding out their hands to a nanny state for an increasing list of needs, giving little thought to the economic costs, and no thought at all to the immensely greater cost in personal liberty.

It is widely believed that politics and economics are separate and largely unconnected; that individual freedom is a political problem and material welfare an economic problem; and that any kind of political arrangements can be combined with any kind of economic arrangements. The chief contemporary manifestation of this idea is the advocacy of “democratic socialism” by many who condemn out of hand the restrictions on individual freedom imposed by “totalitarian socialism” in Russia, and who are persuaded that it is possible for a country to adopt the essential features of Russian economic arrangements and yet to ensure individual freedom through political arrangements. [My] thesis . . . is that such a view is a delusion, that there is an intimate connection between economics and politics, that only certain combinations of political and economic arrangements are possible, and that in particular, a society which is socialist cannot also be democratic, in the sense of guaranteeing individual freedom.
   Economic arrangements play a dual role in the promotion of a free society. On the one hand, freedom in economic arrangements itself is a component of freedom broadly understood, so economic freedom is an end in itself. In the second place, economic is also an indispensable means toward the achievement of political freedom.

—Milton Friedman, Capitalism and Freedom (The University of Chicago Press, 2002), 7–8.

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

HYMN 30. (L. M.)
Prayer for deliverance answered. Isa. xxvi. 8—12, 20, 21.
Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

In thine own ways, O God of love,
We wait the visits of thy grace,
Our soul’s desire is to thy name,
And the remembrance of thy face.

My thoughts are searching, Lord, for thee
’Mongst the black shades of lonesome night;
My earnest cries salute the skies
Before the dawn restore the light.

Look, how rebellious men deride
The tender patience of my God!
But they shall see thy lifted hand,
And feel the scourges of thy rod.

Hark! the Eternal rends the sky,
A mighty voice before him goes;
A voice of music to his friends,
But threat’ning thunder to his foes.

Come, children, to your Father’s arms,
Hide in the chambers of my grace,
Till the fierce storms be overblown,
And my revenging fury cease.

My sword shall boast its thousands slain,
And drink the blood of haughty kings,
While heav’nly peace around my flock
Stretches its soft and shady wings.

—from The Psalms & Hymns of Isaac Watts. Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book I: Collected from the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 1997).

John 5:40–47

and you are unwilling to come to Me so that you may have life. I do not receive glory from men; 42 but I know you, that you do not have the love of God in yourselves. 43 I have come in My Father's name, and you do not receive Me; if another comes in his own name, you will receive him. 44 How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another and you do not seek the glory that is from the one and only God? 45 Do not think that I will accuse you before the Father; the one who accuses you is Moses, in whom you have set your hope. 46 For if you believed Moses, you would believe Me, for he wrote about Me. 47 But if you do not believe his writings, how will you believe My words?”

This passage concludes our Lord Jesus Christ’s wondrous defence of His own divine mission. It is a conclusion worthy of the defence, full of heart-searching appeals to the consciences of His enemies, and rich in deep truths. A mighty sermon is followed by a mighty application.
   Let us mark, in this passage, the reason why many souls are lost. The Lord Jesus says to the unbelieving Jews,—“Ye will not come to me that ye might have life.”
   These words are a golden sentence, which ought to be engraved in our memories, and treasured up in our minds. It is lack of will to come to Christ for salvation that will be found, at last, to have shut the many out of heaven.—It is not men’s sins. All manner of sin may be forgiven.—It is not any decree of God. We are not told in the Bible of any whom God has only created to be destroyed.—It is not any limit in Christ’s work of redemption. He has paid a price sufficient for all mankind.—It is something far more than this. It is man’s own innate unwillingness to come to Christ, repent, and believe. Either from pride, or laziness, or love of sin, or love of the world, the many have no mind, or wish, or heart, or desire to seek life in Christ. “God has given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son.” (1 John v. 11.) But men stand still, and will not stir hand or foot to get life. And this is the whole reason why many of the lost are not saved.
   This is a painful and solemn truth, but one that we can never know too well. It contains a first principle in Christian theology. Thousands, in every age, are constantly labouring to shift the blame of their condition from off themselves. They talk of their inability to change. They tell you complacently, that they cannot help being what they are! They know, forsooth, that they are wrong, but they cannot be different! It will not do. Such talk will not stand the test of the Word of Christ before us. The unconverted are what they are because they have no will to be better. “Light has come into the world, and men love darkness rather than light.” (John iii. 19.) The words of the Lord Jesus will silence many: “I would have gathered you, and ye would not be gathered.” (Matt. xxiii. 37.)
   Let us mark, secondly, in this passage, one principal cause of unbelief. The Lord Jesus says to the Jews,—“How can ye believe which receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh of God only?” He meant by that saying, that they were not honest in their religion. With all their apparent desire to hear and learn, they cared more in reality for pleasing man than God. In this state of mind they were never likely to believe.
   A deep principle is contained in this saying of our Lord’s, and one that deserves special attention. True faith does not depend merely on the state of man’s head and understanding, but on the state of his heart. His mind may be convinced. His conscience may be pierced. But so long as there is anything the man is secretly loving more than God, there will be no true faith. The man himself may be puzzled, and wonder why he does not believe. He does not see that he is like a child sitting on the lid of his box, and wishing to open it, but not considering that his own weight keeps it shut. Let a man make sure that he honestly and really desires first the praise of God. It is the lack of an honest heart which makes many stick fast in their false religion all their days, and die at length without peace. Those who complain that they hear, and approve, and assent, but make no progress, and cannot get any hold on Christ, should ask themselves this simple question, “Am I honest?—Am I sincere?—Do I really desire first the praise of God?”
   Let us mark, lastly, in this passage, the manner in which Christ speaks of Moses. He says to the Jews,—“Had ye believed Moses ye would have believed me: for he wrote of me.”
   These words demand our special attention in these latter days. That there really was such a person as Moses,—that he really was the author of the writings commonly ascribed to him,—on both these points our Lord’s testimony is distinct. “He wrote of me.” Can we suppose for a moment that our Lord was only accommodating Himself to the prejudices and traditions of His hearers, and that He spoke of Moses as a writer, though He knew in His heart that Moses never wrote at all? Such an idea is profane. It would make out our Lord to have been dishonest.—Can we suppose for a moment that our Lord was ignorant about Moses, and did not know the wonderful discoveries which learned men, falsely so called, have made in the nineteenth century? Such an idea is ridiculous blasphemy. To imagine the Lord Jesus speaking ignorantly in such a chapter as the one before us, is to strike at the root of all Christianity.—There is but one conclusion about the matter. There was such a person as Moses. The writings commonly ascribed to him were written by him. The facts recorded in them are worthy of all credit. Our Lord’s testimony is an unanswerable argument. The skeptical writers against Moses and the Pentateuch have greatly erred.
   Let us beware of handling the Old Testament irreverently, and allowing our minds to doubt the truth of any part of it, because of alleged difficulties. The simple fact that the writers of the New Testament continually refer to the Old Testament, and speak even of the most miraculous events recorded in it as undoubtedly true, should silence our doubts. Is it at all likely, probable, or credible, that we of the nineteenth century are better informed about Moses than Jesus and His Apostles? God forbid that we should think so! Then let us stand fast, and not doubt that every word in the Old Testament, as well as in the New, was given by inspiration of God.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:313–316

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

God loves everyone.

I make a point of saying so because I have recently come across a couple of blog posts stating emphatically that he does not. (Even if I agreed, it is beyond me why anyone would feel the need to rub it in; but anyway . . .)

God loves everyone. This has nothing to do with the meaning of the words “world” and “all.” I know those all-inclusive words are seldom meant to be universally-inclusive (as I have written elsewhere). John 3:16 does not prove universal anything.

I know that God loves everyone for one simple reason: he commands me to love everyone. The entire Christian life, i.e. everything related to sanctification, can be summed up as becoming more like Christ (Romans 8:21; 2 Corinthians 2:16). Sin is nothing other than not being like God (Romans 3:23). So the following syllogism applies:

God is making me to be like him.
God commands me to love everyone.
Therefore, God loves everyone.

I don’t claim that God loves everyone in the same way. I certainly don’t love the generic everyone in the same way as I love my wife. And marriage, of course, is the right comparison to make here, because I am talking about the difference between the love of God for his chosen, the love of Christ for his bride, and his love for everyone else. I don’t bestow the same favor on the entire world as I do on the one I have chosen for my own. But to say, then, that I don’t love the rest of the world at all does not follow, nor should it.

William Gurnall on ignorance as the enemy of the soul:

Ignorance above other sins enslaves a soul to Satan. A knowing man may be his slave, but an ignorant one can be no other. Knowledge doth not make the heart good, but it is impossible that without knowledge it should be good. There are some sins which an ignorant person cannot commit, there are more which he cannot but commit; knowledge is the key, Lu. xi. 52; Christ the door, Jn. xv. Christ opens heaven. Knowledge opens Christ. In three particulars the point will appear more fully. First. Ignorance opens a door for sin to enter. Second. As ignorance lets sin in, so it locks it up in the soul, and the soul in it. Third. As it locks it up, so it shuts all means of help out.
   First. Ignorance opens the door for Satan to enter in with his troops of lusts. Where the watch is blind, the city is soon taken. An ignorant man sins, and like drunken Lot, he knows not when the tempter comes, nor when he goes; he is like a man that walks in his sleep, knows not where he is, nor what he does. ‘Father, forgive them,’ saith Christ, ‘they know not what they do.’ The apostle, 1 Co. xv., having reproved the sensuality of some, ver. 32, who made the consideration of death, by which others are awed from sin, a provocative to sin, ‘Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we shall die;’ he gives an account of this absurd reasoning: All have not the knowledge of God. An ignorant person is a man in shape, and a beast in heart. There is no knowledge in the land, saith the prophet, Ho. iv. 1. and see what a regiment follows this blind captain, swearing, lying, killing, stealing, and what not. We read, 2 Ti. iii. 6, of some ‘laden with sins;’ ‘silly women,’ and such who never ‘come to the knowledge of the truth.’ Here are trees full of bitter fruit, and what dung shall we find at the root, that makes them so fruitful, but ignorance?
   Second. Ignorance, as it lets sin in, so it locks it up in the soul, and the soul in it. Such a one lies in Satan's inner dungeon, where no light of conviction comes. Darkness inclines to sleep; a blind man and a drowsy conscience go together. When the storm arose, the mariners who were awake fell a praying to their god, but the sleeper fears nothing. Ignorance lays the soul asleep under the hatches of stupidity. God hath planted in the beast a natural fear of that which threatens to hurt it. Go to thrust a beast into a pit, and it hangs back; nature shows its abhorrency. Man being of a nobler nature, and subject to more dangers, God hath set a double guard on him; as [he has] a natural fear of danger, so also a natural shame that covers the face at the doing of any unworthy action. Now an ignorant man hath slipped from both these his keepers; he sins and blusheth not, because he knows not his guilt; he wants that magistrate within which should put him to shame. Neither is he afraid, because he knows not his danger; and therefore he plays with his sin, as the child with the waves, that, by and by, will swallow him up. Conscience is God’s alarm to call the sinner up. It doth not always ring in his ear that hath knowledge, being usually set by God to go off at some special hour, when God is speaking in an ordinance, or striking in a providence; but in an ignorant soul this is silent. The clock cannot go when the weights are taken off; conscience is only a witness to what it knows.
   Third. Ignorance shuts out the means of recovery. Friends and ministers, yea, Christ himself stands without, and cannot help the creature. As such, threatenings and promises are of no use; he fears not the one, he desires not the other, because he knows neither. Heaven’s way cannot be found in the dark, and therefore the first thing God doth, is to spring in with a light, and let the creature know where he is, and what the way is to get out of his prisonhouse, without which all attempts to escape are in vain. There is some shimmering light in all. Non dantur purœ tenebrœ [absolute darkness is not given], I think, is good divinity as well as philosophy. And this nightlight may discover many sins, produce inward prickings of conscience [for] them, yea, stir up the creature to step aside, rather than to drown in such broad waters. There are some sins so cruel and costly, that the most prostrate soul may in time be weary of their service for low ends; but what will all this come to, if the creature be not acquainted with Christ, the true way to God, faith and repentance, the only way to Christ? Such a one, after all this bustle, instead of making an escape from Satan, will run full into his mouth another way. There are some ways which at first seem right to the traveller, yet wind about so insensibly, that when a man hath gone far, and thinks himself near home, he is carried back to the place from whence he set forth. This will befall every soul ignorant of Christ, and the way of life through him. After many years’ travel, as they think, towards heaven by their good meanings, blind devotions, and reformation, when they shall expect to be within sight of heaven, they shall find themselves even where they were at first, as very slaves to Satan as ever.

—William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002), 1:161–162.

In the book of Revelation, Jesus (via the Apostle John) is very clear on the importance of opposing false doctrine. John MacArthur writes:

   In His final recorded messages to the church, given to the apostle John in a vision several decades after Christ’s ascension into heaven, we see that the silencing of false teachers was still one of our Lords primary concerns, even from his throne in heaven. He addressed several churches—Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea. Only two of the churches, Smyrna and Philadelphia, were commended for their faithfulness without any qualification or hint of rebuke. Both of them had remained true to Christ despite the influence of “those who say they are Jews and are not, but a synagogue of Satan” (Revelation 2:9; 3:9). All five other churches received various measures of rebuke, based on how corrupt, unfaithful, or spiritually lethargic they were.
   A prominent theme in practically all Jesus’ messages to those seven churches is the issue of how they responded to false teachers and rank heretics in their midst. Ephesus, of course, was the church Jesus rebuked with the words: “I have this against you, that you have left your first love” (2:4). But Ephesus was nonetheless strongly commended twice because they refused to tolerate false teachers. Before he admonished them for leaving their first love, Jesus praised them for their steadfast resistance to false apostles: “I know your works, your labor, your patience, and that you cannot bear those who are evil. and you have tested those who say they are apostles and are not, and have found them liars” (v. 2). Afterward, he told them, “But this you have, that you hate the deeds of Nicolaitans, which I also hate” (v. 6).
   The epistle to Pergamos was basically the flip side of that message to Ephesus. Christ commended the saints at Pergamos for holding fast to his name and not denying the faith, even though they dwelt where Satan’s throne was. In other words, they had successfully preserved in the faith despite external threats and persecution. Unlike Ephesus, they had not left their first love. Nevertheless, Christ had a list of rebukes for them, and these were all related to their tolerance of false doctrine in their own midst. It was if they were utterly insensible to internal dangers that came with a tolerant attitude toward deviant doctrines. He wrote, “I have a few things against you, because you have there those who hold the doctrine of Balaam. . . . You also have those who hold the doctrine of the Nicolaitans, which thing I hate” (vv. 14–15).
   Likewise to Thyatira he wrote: “I have a few things against you, because you allow that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophetess, to teach and seduce my servants.” (v. 20).
   The church at Sardis was spiritually dead, and the church at Laodicea was lukewarm and smug. Those churches had clearly already lost their will to oppose false doctrine and purge sin from their midst. Their lack of energy, lack of zeal and (in the case of Sardis) lack of life was a direct result of their failure to keep themselves and their fellowship pure. They had not been sufficiently wary of false teaching, and therefore they had not remained devoted to Christ alone. The warnings of Christ gave them chilling reminders that churches do go bad. When that happens, it is almost it is almost never because they succumb to dangers from the outside. Rather it is almost always because they let down their guard and allow false doctrines to be disseminated freely inside the church. Apathy sets in, followed inevitably by spiritual disaster.
   It is clear from those letters to the churches in Revelation that battling heresy is a duty Christ expects every Christian to be devoted to. Whether we like it or not, our very existence in this world involves spiritual warfare—it is not a party or a picnic. If Christ himself devoted so much of his time and energy during His earthly ministry to the task of confronting and refuting false teachers, surely that must be high on our agenda as well. His style of ministry ought to be a model for ours, and his zeal against false religion ought to fill our hearts and minds as well.

—John MacArthur, The Jesus You Can’t Ignore (Thomas Nelson, 2009), 206–208.

It is with great pleasure, as usual, that I pick up another Iain Murray volume from Banner of Truth. This one, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism, is different from the others I’ve read in a couple of ways. First, it’s a paperback. (I pause here to direct a frown in the Banner’s direction. It was never published in hardcover, so I couldn’t even track down a used copy, as I often do, and I can't set it next to my cloth-bound Murray volumes on the shelf.) Second, it turns our critical eye one hundred and eighty degrees from its usual orientation, away from the Arminians, and toward the hyper-Calvinists.

Murray begins with a little biographical information, and comments on the remarkable scope of Spurgeon’s influence. Spurgeon’s preaching ministry in London spanned thirty-seven years, from 1854–1891. During that time, “If we take into account [Murray writes] both his spoken and written words, it is estimated that each weak his ‘congregation’ amounted to about a million people.” Beginning in 1855, his sermons were published weekly, and also compiled in annually, the 63rd and final volume published twenty-five years posthumously. And that was just his preaching. In addition, he published “about 50 other works and edited 28 volumes of The Sword and Trowel.” His publishers, Passmore and Alabaster, were kept busy — and in business — with publishing Spurgeon’s works alone. Murray writes:

   The obvious question is, how could any man retain such influence over so many people through such a long period? How can we account for the enduring interest? How could a man speak so often, and write so much, without losing his freshness and his appeal? It is true Spurgeon possessed unusual gifts, and that he worked very hard, but we cannot get anywhere near the real answer if we think merely in terms of what he was or did. The explanation lies in the Book that was in his hands, the Book that was his constant companion, and which he lived to preach and study. All the blessing he attributed to that source. His own thoughts, his own opinions, would have achieved nothing:
   ‘“The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul”; nothing else but the living Word of God will convince, convert, renew and sanctify. He has promised that this shall not return unto him void; but He has made no such promise to the wisdom of men, or the excellency of human speech. The Spirit of God works with the Word of God . . . All his paths drop fatness; but man’s paths are barrenness.’
   In possessing the Bible Spurgeon believed that the church has an inexhaustible source of light and heat. What he said once of John Bunyan could be equally said of himself, ‘Prick him anywhere and his bloodline is bibline’. The content of his sermons and his books is plain, you might say, ordinary, Scripture. The energy of his prayerful adherence to Scripture is the true explanation of his work:
   ‘The Bible is a wonderful book . . . You can use it for a lamp at night. You can use it for a screen by day. It is a universal book; it is the Book of books, and has furnished material for mountains of books; it is made of what I call bibline, or the essence of books . . . This one book is enough to last a man throughout the whole of his life, however diligently he may study it.’

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 12–13.

To help us through the present Marxist siege (Come on, 2012!), I had designated Saturdays for posting readings from Milton Friedman’s Capitalism and Freedom. However, as Friday enables catchy alliteration, I’ve shifted Friedman to Friday (smooth, eh?). So here is your weekly dose of political postulations from the eminent economist.

   So long as effective freedom of exchange is maintained, the central feature of the market organization of economic activity is that it prevents one person from interfering with another in respect of most of his activities. The consumer is protected from coercion by the seller because of the presence of other sellers with whom he can deal. The seller is protected from coercion by the consumer because of the other consumers to whom he can sell. The employee is protected from coercion by the employer because of other employers for whom he can work, and so on. And the market does this impersonally and without centralized authority.
   Indeed, a major source of objection to a free economy is precisely that it does this task so well. It gives people what they want instead of what a particular group thinks they ought to want. Underlying most arguments against the free market is a lack of belief in freedom itself.
   The existence of a free market does not of course eliminate the need for government. On the contrary, government is essential both as a forum for determining the “rules of the game” and as an umpire to interpret and enforce the rules decided on. What the market does is to reduce greatly the range of issues that must be through political means, and thereby to minimize the extent to which government need participate directly in the game. The characteristic feature of action through political channels is that it tends to require or enforce substantial conformity. The great advantage of the market, on the other hand, is that it permits wide diversity. It is, in political terms, a system of proportional representation. Each man can vote, as it were, for the color of tie he wants and get it; he does not have to see what color the majority wants and then, if he is in the minority, submit.
   It is this feature of the market that we refer to when we say that the market provides economic freedom. But this characteristic also has implications that go far beyond the narrowly economic. Political freedom means the absence of coercion of a man by his fellow men. The fundamental threat to freedom is power to coerce, be it in the hands of a monarch, a dictator, an oligarchy, or a momentary majority. The preservation of freedom requires the elimination of such concentration of power to the fullest possible extent and the dispersal and distribution of whatever power that cannot be eliminated — a system of checks and balances. By removing the organization of economic activity from the control of political authority, the market eliminates this source of coercive power. It enables economic strength to be a check to political power rather than a reinforcement.
   Economic power can be widely dispersed. There is no law of conservation which forces the growth of new centers of economic strength to be at the expense of existing centers. Political power, on the other hand, is more difficult to decentralize. There can be numerous small independent governments. But it is far more difficult to maintain numerous equipotent centers small centers of political power in a single large government than it is to have numerous centers of economic strength in a single large economy. There can be many millionaires in one large economy. But can there be more than one really outstanding leader, one person on whom all the energies and enthusiasms of his countrymen are centered? If the central government gains power, it is likely to be at the expense of local governments. There seems to be something like a fixed total of political power to be distributed. Consequently, if economic power is joined to political power, concentration seems almost inevitable. On the other hand, if economic power is kept in separate hands from political power, it can serve as a check and a counter to political power.

—Milton Friedman, Capitalism and Freedom (The University of Chicago Press, 2002), 14–16.

. . . inspired by my week on the internets:

This Chinese admiration of Obama is not at all surprising.

We should never expect to be accepted just the way we are. We should, however, love people as they are.

How ignorant and/or biased do you have to be to report on the demise of the Berlin wall without even mentioning Ronald Reagan, and then call Hilary Clinton a “veteran of the cold war”? Pretty darn, I’d say.

Kim thinks I’m a gentleman. That says something about Canadian standards, I think.

Rick Warren is being biographized. At the tender age of fifty-five. Think I’m joking? I should be, but I’m not. But I suppose, if Obama can have a Nobel Prize . . .

This entirely objective opinion has been laying on my chest for a while now. Brian Regan is not funny. Yes, I know, you love him and he’s clean, and I’m glad of that, but just like a Bible verse tacked onto a lame painting doesn’t make it good art, not dirty ≠ funny.

Finally, If you make your living harassing celebrities, and get decked in the process, you got what you had coming; and too bad for you if you’re dumb enough to pick Mike Tyson.

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

Hymn XXI.
Gibeon    Joshua x. 6.
by John Newton (1725–1807)

When Joshua, by God’s command,
Invaded Canaan’s guilty land;
Gibeon, unlike the nations round,
Submission made and mercy found.

Their stubborn neighbors who enrag’d,
United war against them wag’d,
By Joshua soon were overthrown,
For Gibeon’s cause was now his own.

He, from whose arm they ruin fear’d,
Their leader and ally appear’d
An emblem of the Saviour’s grace,
To those who humbly seek his face.

The men of Gibeon wore disguise,
And gain’d their peace by framing lies;
For Joshua had no pow’r to spare,
If he had known from whence they were.

But Jesus invitations sends,
Treating with rebels as his friends;
And holds the promise forth in view,
To all who for his mercy sue.

Too long his goodness I disdain’d,
Yet went at last and peace obtain’d;
But soon the noise of war I heard,
And former friends in arms appear’d.

Weak in myself for help I cry’d,
Lord, I am press’d on ev’ry side;
The cause is thine, they fight with me,
But ev’ry blow is aim’d at thee.

With speed to my relief he came,
And put my enemies to shame;
Thus sav’d by grace I live to sing,
The love and triumphs of my King.

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

The Gospel According to John

Christ feeds 5,000
Mt 14:13–21; Mk 6:31–44; Lk 9:11–17

6 After these things Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee (or Tiberias). 2 A large crowd followed Him, because they saw the signs which He was performing on those who were sick. 3 Then Jesus went up on the mountain, and there He sat down with His disciples. 4 Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was near. 5 Therefore Jesus, lifting up His eyes and seeing that a large crowd was coming to Him, said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these may eat?” 6 This He was saying to test him, for He Himself knew what He was intending to do. 7 Philip answered Him, “Two hundred denarii worth of bread is not sufficient for them, for everyone to receive a little.” 8 One of His disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to Him, 9 ”There is a lad here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are these for so many people?” 10 Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” Now there was much grass in the place So the men sat down, in number about five thousand. 11 Jesus then took the loaves, and having given thanks, He distributed to those who were seated; likewise also of the fish as much as they wanted. 12 When they were filled, He said to His disciples, “Gather up the leftover fragments so that nothing will be lost.” 13 So they gathered them up, and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves which were left over by those who had eaten. 14 Therefore when the people saw the sign which He had performed, they said, “This is truly the Prophet who is to come into the world.”

These verses describe one of our Lord’s most remarkable miracles. Of all the great works that He did, none was done so publicly as this, and before so many witnesses. Of all the miracles related in the Gospels, this is the only one which all the four Gospel-writers alike record. This fact alone (like the four times repeated account of the crucifixion and resurrection) is enough to show that it is a miracle demanding special attention.
   We have, for one thing, in this miracle, a lesson about Christ’s almighty power. We see our Lord feeding five thousand men with “five barley loaves and two small fishes.” We see clear proof that a miraculous event took place in the “twelve baskets of fragments” that remained after all had eaten. Creative power was manifestly exercised. Food was called into existence that did not exist before. In healing the sick, and raising the dead, something was amended or restored that had already existed. In feeding five thousand men with five loaves, something must have been created which before had no existence.
   These verses describe one of our Lord's most remarkable miracles. Of all the great works that He did, none was done so publicly as this, and before so many witnesses. Of all the miracles related in the Gospels, this is the only one which all the four Gospel-writers alike record. This fact alone (like the four times repeated account of the crucifixion and resurrection) is enough to show that it is a miracle demanding special attention.
   We have, for one thing, in this miracle, a lesson about Christ's almighty power. We see our Lord feeding five thousand men with "five barley loaves and two small fish." We see clear proof that a miraculous event took place in the "twelve baskets of fragments" that remained after all had eaten. Creative power was manifestly exercised. Food was called into existence that did not exist before. In healing the sick, and raising the dead, something was amended or restored that had already existed. In feeding five thousand men with five loaves, something must have been created which before had no existence.
   Such a history as this ought to be specially instructive and encouraging to all who endeavour to do good to souls. It shows us the Lord Jesus "able to save to the uttermost." He is One who has all power over dead hearts. Not only can He mend that which is broken,—build up that which is ruined,—heal that which is sick,—strengthen that which is weak. He can do even greater things than these. He can call into being that which was not before, and call it out of nothing. We must never despair of any one being saved. So long as there is life there is hope. Reason and sense may say that some poor sinner is too hardened, or too old to be converted. Faith will reply,—"Our Master can create as well as renew. With a Savior who, by His Spirit, can create a new heart, nothing is impossible."
   We have, for another thing, in this miracle, a lesson about the office of ministers. We see the apostles receiving the bread from our Lord's hands, after He had blessed it, and distributing it to the multitude. It was not their hands that made it increase and multiply, but their Master's. It was His almighty power that provided an unfailing supply. It was their work to receive humbly, and distribute faithfully.
   Now here is a lively emblem of the work which a true minister of the New Testament is meant to do. He is not a mediator between God and man. He has no power to put away sin, or impart grace. His whole business is to receive the bread of life which his Master provides, and to distribute it among the souls among whom he labours. He cannot make men value the bread, or receive it. He cannot make it soul-saving, or life-giving, to any one. This is not his work. For this he is not responsible. His whole business is to be a faithful distributor of the food which his Divine Master has provided; and that done, his office is discharged.
   We have, lastly, in this miracle, a lesson about the sufficiency of the Gospel for the needs of all mankind. We see the Lord Jesus supplying the hunger of a huge multitude of five thousand men. The provision seemed, at first sight, utterly inadequate for the occasion. To satisfy so many craving mouths with such scanty fare, in such a wilderness, seemed impossible. But the event showed that there was enough and to spare. There was not one who could complain that he was not filled.
   There can be no doubt that this was meant to teach the adequacy of Christ's Gospel to supply the necessities of the whole world. Weak, and feeble, and foolish as it may seem to man, the simple story of the Cross is enough for all the children of Adam in every part of the globe. The tidings of Christ's death for sinners, and the atonement made by that death, is able to meet the hearts and satisfy the consciences of all nations, and peoples, and kindreds, and tongues. Carried by faithful messengers, it feeds and supplies all ranks and classes. "The preaching of the cross is to those who perish foolishness, but to us who are saved it is the power of God." (1 Cor. 1:18.) Five barley loaves and two small fishes seemed scanty provision for a hungry crowd. But blessed by Christ, and distributed by His disciples, they were more than sufficient.
   Let us never doubt for a moment, that the preaching of Christ crucified,—the old story of His blood, and righteousness, and substitution,—is enough for all the spiritual necessities of all mankind. It is not worn out. It is not obsolete. It has not lost its power. We need nothing new,—nothing more broad and kind,—nothing more intellectual,—nothing more effectual. We need nothing but the true bread of life, distributed faithfully among starving souls. Let men sneer or ridicule as they will. Nothing else can do good in this sinful world. No other teaching can fill hungry consciences, and give them peace. We are all in a wilderness. We must feed on Christ crucified, and the atonement made by His death, or we shall die in our sins.
   Such a history as this ought to be specially instructive and encouraging to all who endeavour to do good to souls. It shows us the Lord Jesus “able to save to the uttermost.” He is One who has all power over dead hearts. Not only can He mend that which is broken,—build up that which is ruined,—heal that which is sick,—strengthen that which is weak. He can do even greater things than these. He can call into being that which was not before, and call it out of nothing. We must never despair of any one being saved. So long as there is life there is hope. Reason and sense may say that some poor sinner is too hardened, or too old to be converted. Faith will reply,—“Our Master can create as well as renew. With a Savior who, by His Spirit, can create a new heart, nothing is impossible.”
   We have, for another thing, in this miracle, a lesson about the office of ministers. We see the apostles receiving the bread from our Lord’s hands, after He had blessed it, and distributing it to the multitude. It was not their hands that made it increase and multiply, but their Master’s. It was His almighty power that provided an unfailing supply. It was their work to receive humbly, and distribute faithfully.
   Now here is a lively emblem of the work which a true minister of the New Testament is meant to do. He is not a mediator between God and man. He has no power to put away sin, or impart grace. His whole business is to receive the bread of life which his Master provides, and to distribute it among the souls among whom he labours. He cannot make men value the bread, or receive it. He cannot make it soul-saving, or life-giving, to any one. This is not his work. For this he is not responsible. His whole business is to be a faithful distributor of the food which his Divine Master has provided; and that done, his office is discharged.
   We have, lastly, in this miracle, a lesson about the sufficiency of the Gospel for the needs of all mankind. We see the Lord Jesus supplying the hunger of a huge multitude of five thousand men. The provision seemed, at first sight, utterly inadequate for the occasion. To satisfy so many craving mouths with such scanty fare, in such a wilderness, seemed impossible. But the event showed that there was enough and to spare. There was not one who could complain that he was not filled.
   There can be no doubt that this was meant to teach the adequacy of Christ’s Gospel to supply the necessities of the whole world. Weak, and feeble, and foolish as it may seem to man, the simple story of the Cross is enough for all the children of Adam in every part of the globe. The tidings of Christ’s death for sinners, and the atonement made by that death, is able to meet the hearts and satisfy the consciences of all nations, and peoples, and kindreds, and tongues. Carried by faithful messengers, it feeds and supplies all ranks and classes. “The preaching of the cross is to those who perish foolishness, but to us who are saved it is the power of God.” (1 Cor. i. 18.) Five barley loaves and two small fishes seemed scanty provision for a hungry crowd. But blessed by Christ, and distributed by His disciples, they were more than sufficient.
   Let us never doubt for a moment, that the preaching of Christ crucified,—the old story of His blood, and righteousness, and substitution,—is enough for all the spiritual necessities of all mankind. It is not worn out. It is not obsolete. It has not lost its power. We want nothing new,—nothing more broad and kind,—nothing more intellectual,—nothing more efficacious. We want nothing but the true bread of life, distributed faithfully among starving souls. Let men sneer or ridicule as they will. Nothing else can do good in this sinful world. No other teaching can fill hungry consciences, and give them peace. We are all in a wilderness. We must feed on Christ crucified, and the atonement made by His death, or we shall die in our sins.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:324–327.

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

Don’t say “I’m sorry” if you don’t believe you’ve done anything wrong.

Don’t say “I’m sorry” if you think you can justify what you have done.

Don’t say “I’m sorry” if you regret the consequences, but not the action.

Don’t say “I’m sorry” unless you fully intend never to do it again.

I now rejoice, not that you were made sorrowful, but that you were made sorrowful to the point of repentance; for you were made sorrowful according to the will of God, so that you might not suffer loss in anything through us. For the sorrow that is according to the will of God produces a repentance without regret, leading to salvation, but the sorrow of the world produces death.

—2 Corinthians 7:9–10

Following his discussion of the folly of ignorance, William Gurnall posed the question, “But how may an ignorant soul attain to knowledge?” and offered a five-fold answer:

1. “Be deeply affected with thy ignorance.” That is, be humble and teachable.
2. “Be faithful with that little knowledge thou hast.” Be diligent and obedient according to whatever knowledge you do possess.
3. “Ply the throne of grace.” See James 1:5.
4. “Thou must bestow some time for thy diligent search after truth.” Dig! “. . . this treasure of knowledge calls for spade and mattock.”
5. “If thou wouldst attain to divine knowledge, wait on the ministry of the word.” Attend to the teaching of the Word. Be a “wakeful hearer,” an “attentive hearer,” and a “retentive hearer.”

Concerning the last, Gurnall wrote,

Thou must be a retentive hearer. Without this the work will ever be to begin again. Truths to a forgetful hearer are as a seal set on water, the impression lasts no longer than the seal is on; the sermon once done, and all is undone. Be therefore very careful to fasten what thou hearest on thy memory, which that thou mayest do,
   (1.) Receive the truth in the love of it. An affectionate hearer will not be a forgetful hearer. Love helps the memory. ‘Can a woman forget a child, or a maid her ornaments, or a bride her attire?’ No, they love them too well. Were the truths of God thus precious to thee, thou wouldst with David think of them day and night. Even when the Christian, through weakness of memory, cannot remember the very words he hears, to repeat them, yet then he keeps the power and savour of them in his spirit. As when sugar is dissolved in wine, you cannot see it, but you may taste it; when meat is eaten and digested it is not to be found as it was received, but the man is cheered and strengthened by it, more able to walk and work than before, by which you may know it is not lost; so you may taste the truths the Christian heard in his spirit [and] see them in his life. Perhaps if you ask him what the particulars were the minister had about faith, mortification, repentance, and the like, he cannot tell you; yet this you may find, his heart is more broken for sin, more enabled to rely on the promises, and now weaned from the world. As that good woman answered one, that coming from sermon, asked her what she remembered of the sermon; [she] said she could not recall much, but she heard that which should make her reform some things as soon as she came home.
   (2.) Meditate on what thou hearest. By this David got more wisdom than his teachers. Observe what truth, what Scripture is cleared to thee in the sermon more than before, take some time in secret to converse with it, and make it thereby familiar to thy understanding. Meditation to the sermon in what the harrow is to the seed, it covers those truths, which else might have been picked or washed away. I am afraid there are many proofs turned down at a sermon, that are hardly turned up, and looked on any more, when the sermon is done; and if so, you make others believe you are greater traders for your souls, than you are indeed. It is as if one should come to a shop and lay by a great deal of rich ware, and when he hath done goes away, and never calls for it. O take heed of such doings. The hypocrite cheats himself worst at last.
   (3.) Discharge thy memory of what is sinful. We wipe our tablebook and deface what is there scribbled, before they can write anew. There is such a contrariety betwixt the truths of God, and all that is frothy and sinful, that one puts out the other. If you would retain the one, you must let the other go.

—William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002), 1:176–177.

Throughout most of Spurgeon’s ministry, both he and his wife suffered greatly with ill health. But rather than remonstrate bitterly with God, he recognized trials as a necessary part of his sanctification, and as a part of fitting him for ministry. As Iain Murray writes, Spurgeon believed that without without difficulties,

he would have been ruined. Fallen men, though Christians, cannot long be surrounded by popularity and success without the special help of God. ‘Our God takes care always to have the security that, if He works a great work by us, we shall not appropriate the glory of it to ourselves. He brings us down lower and lower in our own esteem . . . Some trumpets are so stuffed with self that God cannot blow through them.’ ‘You may rest quite certain that, if God honors any man in public, he takes him aside privately, and flogs him well, otherwise he would get elevated and proud, and God will not have that.’ ‘Many a man has been elevated until his brain has grown dizzy, and he has fallen to his destruction. He who is to be made to stand securely in a high place has need to be put through sharp affliction. More men are destroyed by prosperity and success than by affliction and apparent failure.’

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 17–18.

At the end of his notes on John 6:3, Charles Spurgeon wrote the following comment:

Read, write, print, shout, – “Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.” Great Saviour, I thank Thee for this text; help Thou me so to preach from it that many may come to Thee, and find eternal life!

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 50.

Our Fridays are dedicated to dishing out capitalist wisdom, to nurse us (U.S. Americans) through the present Marxist captivity of our beloved republic.

An incomplete list of “activities currently undertaken by government in the U.S., that cannot, so far as I can see, validly be justified”:

   1. Parity price support programs for agriculture.
   2. Tariffs on imports or restrictions on exports, such as current oil import quotas, sugar quotas, etc.
   3. Governmental control of output, such as through the farm program, or through prorationing of oil as is done by the Texas Railroad Commission.
   4. Rent control, such as is still practiced in New York, or more general price and wage controls such as were imposed during and just after World War II.
   5. Legal minimum wage rates, or legal maximum prices, such as the legal maximum of zero in the rate of interest that can be paid on demands deposits by commercial banks, or the legally fixed maximum rates that can be paid on savings and time deposits.
   6. Detailed regulation of industries, such as the regulation of transportation by the Interstate Commerce Commission. This had some justification on technical monopoly grounds when initially introduced for railroads; it has none now for any means if transport. another example is detailed regulation of banking.
   7. A similar example, but one which deserves special mention because of implicit censorship and violation of free speech, is the control of radio and television by the Federal Communications Commission.
   8. Present social security programs, especially the old-age and retirement program compelling people in effect (a) to spend a specified fraction of their income on the purchase of retirement annuity, (b) to but the annuity from a publicly operated enterprise.
   9. Licensure provisions in various cities and states which restrict particular enterprises or occupations of professions to people who have a license, where the license is more than a receipt for a tax which anyone we who wishes to enter the activity may pay.
   10. So-called “public housing” and the host of other subsidy programs directed at fostering residential construction such as F.H.A. and V.A. guarantee of mortgage, and the like.
   11. Conscription to man the military services in peacetime. The appropriate free market arrangement is volunteer military forces; which is to say, hiring men to serve. There is no justification for not paying whatever price is necessary to attract the required number of men. Present arrangements are inequitable and arbitrary , seriously interfere with the freedom of young men to shape their lives, and probably even more costly than the market alternative. (Universal military training to provide a reserve for war time is a different problem and may be justified on liberal grounds.)
   12. National parks, as noted above.
   13. The legal prohibition on the carrying of mail for profit.
   14. Publicly owned and operated toll roads, as noted above.

—Milton Friedman, Capitalism and Freedom (The University of Chicago Press, 2002), 35–36.

This list was compiled forty-seven years ago, but is certainly still relevant today. While some of the items listed are not in actual practice today (e.g. military conscription), the principle applies and bears reiteration.

Absolutely nothing is what you’ll get from me today. Feel free to come back as often as you like and take as much of it as you want.

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

Petitionary Hymns
Poem  XX. Christ the Light of his People.
Augustus Toplady (1740–1778)

I Lift my heart and eyes to thee,
   Jesus, thou unextinguished light:
My lantern, guide, and leader be,
   My cloud by day, my fire by night.

Glory of Israel, shine within,
   Unshadow’d, uneclips’d appear;
O let thy beams dispel my sin,
   Direct me by a friendly star.

   The world a maze and lab’rinth is,
Be thou my thread and faithful clue;
   Thy kingdom and thy righteousness
The only objects I pursue.
   
Light of the Gentiles, thee I hail!
   Essential light, thyself impart!
Spirit of light, his face reveal;
   And set thy signet on my heart.

Thy office is to enlighten man,
   And point him to the heavenly prize;
The hidden things of God t’ explain,
   And chase the darkness from our eyes.

   Shew me I have the better part,
The treasure hid with Christ in God;
   Give me a perfect peace of heart,
And pardon through my Saviour’s blood.

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

John 6:15–21

Christ Walks on the Water
Mt 14:22–23; Mk6:45–52

So Jesus, perceiving that they were intending to come and take Him by force to make Him king, withdrew again to the mountain by Himself alone.    16 Now when evening came, His disciples went down to the sea, 17 and after getting into a boat, they started to cross the sea to Capernaum. It had already become dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. 18 The sea began to be stirred up because a strong wind was blowing. 19 Then, when they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and drawing near to the boat; and they were frightened. 20 But He said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” 21 So they were willing to receive Him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going.

We should notice, in these verses, our Lord Jesus Christ’s humility. We are told that, after feeding the multitude, He “perceived that they would come and take him by force to make him a king.” At once He departed, and left them. He wanted no such honours as these. He had come, “not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to give his life a ransom for many.” (Matt. xx. 28.)
   We see the same spirit and frame of mind all through our Lord’s earthly ministry. From His cradle to His grave He was “clothed with humility.” (1 Pet. v. 5.) He was born of a poor woman, and spent the first thirty years of His life in a carpenter’s house at Nazareth. He was followed by poor companions,—many of them no better than fishermen. He was poor in his manner of living: “The foxes had holes, and the birds of the air their nests,—but the Son of man had not where to lay his head” (Matt. viii. 20.) When He went on the Sea of Galilee, it was in a borrowed boat. When He rode into Jerusalem, it was on a borrowed ass. When He was buried, it was in a borrowed tomb. “Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor.” (2 Cor. viii. 9.)
   The example is one which ought to be far more remembered than it is. How common are pride, and ambition, and high-mindedness! How rare are humility and lowly-mindedness! How few ever refuse greatness when offered to them! How many are continually seeking great things for themselves, and forgetting the injunction—“Seek them not!” (Jer. xlv. 5.) Surely it was not for nothing that our Lord, after washing the disciples’ feet, said,—“I have given you an example that ye should do as I have done.” (John xiii. 15.) There is little, it may be feared, of that feet-washing spirit among Christians. But whether men will hear or forbear, humility is the queen of the graces. “Tell me,” it has been said, “how much humility a man has, and I will tell you how much religion he has.” Humility is the first step toward heaven, and the true way to honour. “He that humbleth himself shall be exalted.” (Luke xviii. 14.)
   We should notice, secondly, in these verses, the trials through which Christ’s disciples had to pass. We are told that they were sent over the lake by themselves, while their Master tarried behind. And then we see them alone in a dark night, tossed about by a great wind on stormy waters, and, worst of all, Christ not with them. It was a strange transition. From witnessing a mighty miracle, and helping it instrumentally, amid an admiring crowd, to solitude, darkness, winds, waves, storm, anxiety, and danger, the change was very great! But Christ knew it, and Christ appointed it, and it was working for their good.
   Trial, we must distinctly understand, is part of the diet which all true Christians must expect. It is one of the means by which their grace is proved, and by which they find out what there is in themselves. Winter as well as summer,—cold as well as heat,—clouds as well as sunshine,—are all necessary to bring the fruit of the Spirit to ripeness and maturity. We do not naturally like this. We would rather cross the lake with calm weather and favourable winds, with Christ always by our side, and the sun shining down on our faces. But it may not be. It is not in this way that God’s children are made “partakers of His holiness.” (Heb. xii. 10.) Abraham, and Jacob, and Moses, and David, and Job were all men of many trials. Let us be content to walk in their footsteps, and to drink of their cup. In our darkest hours we may seem to be left,—but we are never really alone.
   Let us notice, in the last place, our Lord Jesus Christ’s power over the waves of the sea. He came to His disciples as they were rowing on the stormy lake, “walking on” the waters. He walked on them as easily as we walk on dry land. They bore Him as firmly as the pavement of the Temple, or the hills around Nazareth. That which is contrary to all natural reason was perfectly possible to Christ.
   The Lord Jesus, we must remember, is not only the Lord, but the Maker of all creation. “All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made.” (John i. 3.) It was just as easy for Him to walk on the sea as to form the sea at the beginning,—just as easy to suspend the common laws of nature, as they are called, as to impose those laws at the first. Learned men talk solemn nonsense sometimes about the eternal fixity of the “laws of nature,” as if they were above God Himself, and could never be suspended. It is well to be reminded sometimes by such miracles as that before us, that these so-called “laws of nature” are neither immutable nor eternal. They had a beginning, and will one day have an end.
   Let all true Christians take comfort in the thought that their Saviour is Lord of waves and winds, of storms and tempests, and can come to them in the darkest hour, “walking upon the sea.” There are waves of trouble far heavier than any on the Lake of Galilee. There are days of darkness which test the faith of the holiest Christian. But let us never despair if Christ is our Friend. He can come to our aid in an hour when we do not think, and in ways that we did not expect. And when He comes, all will be calm.  

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:334–337.

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

The Flies and the Honey Pot
Æsop

A Jar of Honey chanced to spill
Its contents on the window-sill
In many a viscous pool and rill.

The Flies, attracted by the sweet,
Began so greedily to eat,
They smeared their fragile wings and feet.

With many a twitch and pull in vain
They gasped to get away again,
And died in aromatic pain.

Moral

O foolish creatures that destroy
Themselves for transitory joy.

William Gurnall on the object and purpose of sin:

O sirs, take the right notion of sin, and you will hate it.  The reason why we are so easily persuaded to sin is, because we understand not the bottom of [Satan’s] design in drawing a creature to sin.  It is with men in sinning as it is with armies in fighting.  Captains beat their drums for volunteers, and promise all that list, pay and plunder; and this makes them come trowling in.  But few consider what the ground of the war is, against whom, or for what.  Satan enticeth to sin, and gives golden promises [of] what they shall have in his service, with which silly souls are won.  But how few ask their souls, Whom do I sin against?  What is the devil’s design in drawing me to sin?  Shall I tell thee?  Dost thou think it is thy pleasure or profit he desires in thy sinning?  Alas, he means nothing less, he hath greater plots in his head than so.  He hath, by his apostasy, proclaimed war against God, and he brings thee, by sinning, to espouse his quarrel, and to jeopard the life of thy soul in defence of his pride and lust; which that he may do, he cares no more for the damnation of thy soul, than the great Turk doth to see a company of his slaves cut off for the carrying on of his design in a siege.  And darest thou venture to go into the field upon his quarrel against God?  O earth, tremble thou at the presence of the Lord.  This bloody Joab sets thee where never came any off alive.  O stand not where God’s bullets fly.  Throw down thy arms, or thou art a dead man.  Whatever others do, O ye saints, abhor the thoughts of sinning willingly; which when you do, you help the devil against God.  And what more unnatural than for a child to be seen in arms against his father?

—William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002), 1:182.

Iain Murray presents four reasons for Spurgeon’s vehement opposition to Hyper-Calvinism. The first is the universal invitation of the gospel, which the Hyper-Calvinists denied and assiduously avoided.

Spurgeon believed that historic evangelicalism differed from Hyper-Calvinism over the persons to whom the promises of the gospel are to be preached. Hyper-Calvinism views gospel preaching solely as a means for the ingathering of God’s elect. It argues that such words as, ‘Trust in Christ and you will be saved’, should only be addressed to elect sinners for it is their salvation alone which the preacher should have in view. For a preacher to convey to his hearers the impression that they are all called to receive Christ, and to believe in him for salvation, is to deny, in the opinion of Hyper-Calvinists, the sovereignty of divine grace. It is to represent salvation as available to those whom God has excluded by the decree of election. Gospel preaching for Hyper-Calvinists means a declaration of the facts of the gospel but nothing should be said by way of encouraging individuals to believe that the promises of Christ are made to them particularly until there is evidence that the Spirit of God has begun a saving work in their hearts, convicting them and making them ‘sensible’ of their need.
   Spurgeon rejected the placing of such a restriction upon the invitation of the gospel. The gospel is ‘good news’ which God would have proclaimed throughout the world and to ‘every creature’. Its message is not simply a statement of facts. It also contains clear, unrestricted general promises, such as, ‘He that believeth on him is not condemned’ (John 3:18); ‘Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved’ (Rom. 10:13); ‘Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely’ (Rev. 22:17). So the preacher has not done his work when he has spoken of Christ and proclaimed the historic facts of salvation. From there he must go on to urge the reception of Christ upon all men. In the name of God he must assure all of the certainty of their welcome and forgiveness on their repentance and faith. Thus Paul said to all his hearers at Antioch in Pisidia: ‘Be it known unto you, men and brethren, that through this man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins: And by him all that believe are justified from all things, from which ye could not be justified by the law of Moses’ (Acts 13:38–9). The apostle evidently knew of no limitations. Christ was to be preached, ‘warning every man’ — any one, every one — ‘and teaching every man in all wisdom; that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus’ (Col. 1:28). Words could scarcely be more embracing and individual.
   Hyper-Calvinists argued that gospel promises and invitations cannot be made universal because saving grace is special and particular. Spurgeon replied by asserting that the language of Scripture can be given no other meaning. In a sermon entitled ‘Apostolic Exhortation’, on Peter’s words to all his hearers, ‘Repent ye therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out’ (Acts 3:19), he says:
   ‘Peter preached the Christ of the gospel — preached it personally and directly at the crowd who were gathered around him . . . Grown up among us is a school of men who say that they rightly preach the gospel to sinners when they merely deliver statements of what the gospel is, and the result of dying unsaved, but they grow furious and talk of unsoundness if any venture to say to the sinner, “Believe”, or “Repent”. To this school Peter did not belong — into their secret he had never come, and with their assembly, were he alive now, he would not be joined.’
   In another sermon he refers to brethren who ‘do not think it to be their duty to go into the highways and hedges’ and bid all, as many as they find, to come to the supper. Oh, no! They are too orthodox to obey the Master’s will; they desire to understand first who are appointed to come to the supper, and then they will invite them; that is to say, they will do what there is no necessity to do [i.e., present the gospel to those who are already saved]. In contrast with this, the apostles ‘delivered the gospel, the same gospel to the dead as to the living, the same gospel to the non-elect as to the elect. The point of distinction not in the gospel, but in its being applied by the Holy Ghost, or left to be rejected of man.’

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 69–71.

Our Fridays are dedicated to dishing out capitalist wisdom, to nurse us (U.S. Americans) through the present Marxist captivity of our beloved republic.

Economics of Medical Care (1978)

Forget freedom of speech. What about freedom of thought? Did you ever think you would see the day, in the United States of America, when one could be prosecuted for his thoughts? One headline this Monday announced FBI cites thousands of hate crimes in ’08. “Thousands of hate crimes.” The FBI has, as empowered by the law, presumed to judge the thoughts of thousands. If you don’t find that disturbing, you might already be on the road to loving Big Brother.

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

The Christian Warfare
Samuel Stennett (1727–1795)

My Captain sounds the alarm of war;
Awake, the powers of hell are near!
“To arms! To arms!” I hear him cry,
’Tis yours to conquer, or to die!

Roused by the animating sound,
I cast my eager eyes around;
Make haste to gird my armor on,
And bid each trembling fear be gone.

Hope is my helmet; faith my shield;
Thy Word, my God! The sword I wield;
With sacred truth my loins are girt,
And holy zeal inspires my heart.

Thus armed I venture on the fight;
Resolved to put my foes to flight;
While Jesus kindly deigns to spread
His conquering banner o’er my head.

In him I hope; in him I trust;
His bleeding cross is all my boast.
Through troops of foes He’ll lead me on
To victory and the victor’s crown.

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

John 6:22–27

“I Am the Bread of Life”

The next day the crowd that stood on the other side of the sea saw that there was no other small boat there, except one, and that Jesus had not entered with His disciples into the boat, but that His disciples had gone away alone. 23 There came other small boats from Tiberias near to the place where they ate the bread after the Lord had given thanks. 24 So when the crowd saw that Jesus was not there, nor His disciples, they themselves got into the small boats, and came to Capernaum seeking Jesus. 25 When they found Him on the other side of the sea, they said to Him, “Rabbi, when did You get here?”
   26 Jesus answered them and said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek Me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled. 27 Do not work for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you, for on Him the Father, God, has set His seal.”

We should mark first, in this passage, what knowledge of man’s heart our Lord Jesus Christ possesses. We see Him exposing the false motives of those who followed Him for the sake of the loaves and fishes. They had followed Him across the Lake of Galilee. They seemed at first sight ready to believe in Him, and do Him honour. But He knew the inward springs of their conduct, and was not deceived. “Ye seek me,” He said, “not because ye saw the miracles, but because ye ate the loaves, and were filled.”
   The Lord Jesus, we should never forget, is still the same. He never changes. He reads the secret motives of all who profess and call themselves Christians. He knows exactly why they do all they do in their religion. The reasons why they go to Church, and why they receive the sacrament,—why they attend family prayers, and why they keep Sunday holy,—all are naked and opened to the eyes of the great Head of the Church. By Him actions are weighed as well as seen. “Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7">1 Sam. xvi. 7.)
   Let us be real, true, and sincere in our religion, whatever else we are. The sinfulness of hypocrisy is very great, but its folly is greater still. It is not hard to deceive ministers, relatives, and friends. A little decent outward profession will often go a long way. But it is impossible to deceive Christ. “His eyes are as a flame of fire.” (Rev. i. 14.) He sees us through and through. Happy are those who can say,—“Thou, Lord, who knowest all things, knowest that we love thee.” (John xxi. 17.)
   We should mark, secondly, in this passage, what Christ forbids. He told the crowds who followed Him so diligently for the loaves and fishes, “not to labour for the food that perisheth.” It was a remarkable saying, and demands explanation.
   Our Lord, we may be sure, did not mean to encourage idleness. It would be a great mistake to suppose this hard labour was the appointed lot of Adam in Paradise. Labour was ordained to be man’s occupation after the fall. Labour is honourable in all men. No one need be ashamed of belonging to “the working classes.” Our Lord himself worked in the carpenter’s shop at Nazareth. Paul wrought as a tent-maker with his own hands.
   What our Lord did mean to rebuke was, that excessive attention to labour for the body, while the soul is neglected, which prevails everywhere in the world. What He reproved was, the common habit of labouring only for the things of time, and letting alone the things of eternity—of minding only the life that now is, and disregarding the life to come. Against this habit He delivers a solemn warning.
   Surely, we must all feel our Lord did not say the words before us without good cause. They are a startling caution which should ring in the ears of many in these latter days. How many in every rank of life are doing the very thing against which Jesus warns us! They are labouring night and day for “the food that perisheth,” and doing nothing for their immortal souls. Happy are those who early learn betimes the respective value of soul and body, and give the first and best place in their thoughts to salvation. One thing is needful. He that seeks first the kingdom of God, will never fail to find “all other things added to him.” (Matt. vi. 33.)
   We should mark, thirdly, in this passage, what Christ advises. He tells us to “labour for the food that endureth to everlasting life.” He would have us take pains to find food and satisfaction for our souls. That food is provided in rich abundance in Him. But he that would have it must diligently seek it.
   How are we to labour? There is but one answer. We must labour in the use of all appointed means. We must read our Bibles, like men digging for hidden treasure. We must wrestle earnestly in prayer, like men contending with a deadly enemy for life. We must take our whole heart to the house of God, and worship and hear like those who listen to the reading of a benefactor’s will. We must fight daily against sin, the world, and the devil, like those who fight for liberty, and must conquer, or be slaves. These are the ways we must walk in if we would find Christ, and be found of Him. This is “labouring.” This is the secret of getting on about our souls.
   Labour like this no doubt is very uncommon. In carrying it on we shall have little encouragement from man, and shall often be told that we are “extreme,” and go too far. Strange and absurd as it is, the natural man is always fancying that we may take too much thought about religion, and refusing to see that we are far more likely to take too much thought about the world. But whatever man may say, the soul will never get spiritual food without labour. We must “strive,” we must “run,” we must “fight,” we must throw our whole heart into our soul’s affairs. It is “the violent” who take the kingdom. (Matt. xi. 12.)
   We should mark, lastly, in this passage, what a promise Christ holds out. He tells us that He himself will give eternal food to all who seek it: “The Son of man shall give you the food that endureth unto everlasting life.”
   How gracious and encouraging these words are! Whatever we need for the relief of our hungering souls, Christ is ready and willing to bestow. Whatever mercy, grace, peace, strength we require, the Son of man will give freely, immediately, abundantly, and eternally. He is “sealed,” and appointed, and commissioned by God the Father for this very purpose. Like Joseph in the Egyptian famine, it is His office to be the Friend, and Almoner [distributor of alms, benefactor], and Reliever of a sinful world. He is far more willing to give than man is to receive. The more sinners apply to Him, the better He is pleased.
   And now, as we leave this rich passage, let us ask ourselves, what use we make of it? For what are we labouring ourselves? What do we know of lasting food and satisfaction for our inward man? Never let us rest until we have eaten of the food which Christ alone can give. Those who are content with any other spiritual food will sooner or later “lie down in sorrow.” (Isa. l. 11.)

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:345–348.

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

I don’t imagine most of the readers of this blog are too interested in the doings of the ELCA. That’s the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, or Extremely Liberal Convocation of Apostates; take your pick. Having been Lutheran for nearly the first thirty years of my life, I can’t help but take notice.

In case you haven’t been paying attention, the ELCA has declared sodomy to be okey-dokey with them, and will now ordain sodomites, provided the sodomites in question are committed, monogamous sodomites. Well, yes, of course — you have to draw the line somewhere, after all.

This is all very interesting, in a hum-drum way, because I’ve been watching this happen since I was a wee Lutheran. (My head was still damp when I first heard the word “liberal” applied to those other Lutherans.) What interests me the most is that every time one of these controversies arises, there is always a “conservative” group in the mix that is shocked and dismayed that this could happen, and feels compelled to leave and join or start another denomination. In this case, I believe I read that someone has averred, “We haven’t left the ELCA; the ELCA has left us!” “Really?” I ask, “and exactly where were you standing when they left you?”

(This reminds me of an episode in my youth. You may skip this parenthetic paragraph, if you wish. I was a freshman in high school. I was walking home from somewhere, when a couple of seniors pulled over and offered me a ride. The offer was made with a beer momentarily raised into view, the implication being obvious. Throwing all good sense to the wind — like they really wanted a new drinking buddy in the form of an exceptionally uncool freshman — I got in. To make a long story short, I ended up two miles out of town, hoofing it home. The moral of the story . . . well, I think you get it.)

I began thinking that it might be interesting to do a little study of Lutheran history and draw up a chart (I love charts — and lists, and outlines, and . . .) to illustrate just how long these people were treading water before they noticed the boat had sunk. So I did. The chart that follows is by no means a complete picture of American Lutheranism. It only includes streams that flow into the present controversy. I am sure there are other splinter groups, but I believe all the relevant bodies are represented, and then some. Just don’t cite me in your thesis. I’ve used abbreviations and short forms for the sake of space. If you really need the full names, just ask.

The church in blue is my mother church. The red is the bad news. It’s not the acceptance of homosexuality, female clergy, or even theatre attendance or card-playing. It’s something far more insidious than any failure of orthopraxy. The red represents the introduction of higher criticism, which treats the biblical text as a human product rather than the very words of God (I may not have found all the entry points in my quick study, but that just means the picture could be even worse). That is the real problem. The smart theologians who began questioning authority didn’t intend to put a homosexual in the pulpit. They quite possibly considered female clergy; that idea is quite old. I don’t think they ever intended a wholesale rejection of Scripture; but once they opened that door, there was no reason not to say anything goes.

And you know, it really doesn’t matter. Note this well: God doesn’t care what you think about female clergy or homosexuality. He cares what you think of him. Your views on everything else, from playing the lottery to “marrying” your goat, are only reflections of your view of God. He has revealed himself and his will in Scripture, and when you reject his Word, when you ask, “Indeed, has God said . . . ?” you are rejecting him, and you are in as much trouble as you ever will be.

ELCA Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson, in a September 9th video message on the denomination’s website entitled Invitation to Conversation, asks, “What shall be our witness? What stories shall we tell?” Call me cynical, but I expect they’ll just keep on making up their own, like they always have.

And the good folks who have drawn the line at homosexual clergy? Until they stop creating a god in their own image, unless they turn back to Scripture as the very words of God, and their sole authority, so will they.

Related: Gene Veith, A new Lutheran church, gnosticism, and the Bible