William Gurnall reminds us that without a pure heart, clean hands are meaningless.

There may be more wickedness in a sin of the heart than of the hand and outward man; for the aggravation of these is taken from the behaviour of the heart in the act.  The more of the heart and spirit [that] is let out, the more malignity is let in to any sinful act.  To backslide in heart, is more than to backslide.  It is the comfort of a poor soul, when tempted and troubled for his relapses, that though his foot slides back, yet his heart turns not back, but faceth heaven and Christ at the same time; so to err in the heart is worse than to have an error in the head.  Therefore God aggravates Israel’s sin with this, ‘They do alway err in their heart,’ He. iii. 10.  Their hearts run them upon the error; they liked idolatry, and so were soon made to believe what pleased them best.  As, on the contrary, the more of the heart and spirit is in any holy service, the more real goodness there is in it, though it fall short of others in the outward expression.  The widow’s two mites surpassed all the rest, Christ himself being judge; so in sin, though the internal acts of sin, in thoughts and affections, seem light upon man’s balance, if compared with outward acts, yet these may be so circumstantiated that they may exceed the other in God’s account.  Peter lays the accent of Magus’ sin on the wicked thought, which his words betrayed to be in his heart, ‘Pray God, if perhaps the thought of thine heart may be forgiven thee,’ Acts viii. 22.  Saul’s sin in sparing Agag, and saving the best of the sheep and oxen, which he was commanded to destroy, was materially a far less sin than David’s adultery and murder, yet it is made equal with a greater than both, even witchcraft itself, 1 Sa. xv. 23; and whence received his sin such a dye, but from the wickedness of his heart, that was worse than David’s when deepest in the temptation.

—William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002), 1:184–185.

Last week, I began looking at four reasons why Spurgeon rejected Hyper-Calvinism. The first was the universal invitation of the gospel, denied by the Hyper-Calvinists. The second is

that it turned individuals away from their only sure warrant for trusting in Christ, namely, the objective commands and invitations of the gospel. Hyper-Calvinism denies such a universal warrant, applicable to all, and claims, instead, that Scripture only addresses invitations to specific people — to the penitent, the ‘heavy laden’, to the convicted, to the ‘sensible’ sinner and so on. Under such preaching, gospel hearers must first find some warrant within themselves for thinking that Christ’s invitations are addressed to them personally. Subjective experience is thus made a kind of necessary preliminary and qualification before anyone can trust in scriptural promises. Against this, Spurgeon held that the scriptural warrant for the unconverted to trust in Christ rests on nothing in themselves; the warrant lies in the invitation of Christ. His entire presentation of the gospel turned on the truth that no sinner has any more warrant than any other for trusting in Christ. The warrant lies in Scripture alone. Before a man has any willingness to be saved, it is ‘his duty to believe in Christ, for it is not man’s willingness that gives him a right to believe. Men are to believe in obedience to God’s command. God commandeth all men everywhere to repent, and this is his great command, “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved”.’ Christ’s ambassadors are authorised to call ‘on all people of every clime and kindred, to believe the gospel with a promise of personal salvation to each and every one that believes.’ The message is not, ‘Wait for feelings’, it is, ‘Believe and live’. ‘I find Jesus Christ says nothing to sinners about waiting, but very much about coming.’
   To this the Hyper-Calvinists replied that if all are called to trust in Christ then such trust must involve them in believing a falsehood because Christ has not died for all. In their view, to preach a universal warrant is to deny that redemption is definite and particular. This was a further ground for charging Spurgeon with inconsistency, for he believed in particular redemption and yet summoned all to believe in Christ. But Spurgeon, along with Scripture, did not make, ‘Believe that Christ died for you’, part of faith to which the unbeliever is summoned. The call to the sinner is to commit himself to Christ, not because he has been saved but rather because he is lost and must come to Jesus in order to be saved.
. . .
   To deny a universal warrant, and to require subjective experiences before Christ is trusted, is bound to lead to confusion and legality. Such teaching makes men look at themselves instead of the Saviour. It leads people to suppose that possessing a broken heart and feeling the burden of sin are some kind of qualification for believing. But this is to require a discernment on the part of would-be converts for which Scripture does not ask. The truth is that individuals under conviction are unable to understand themselves and it is common for those who are most burdened to fear that they have no true sense of sin at all. The Holy Spirit is indeed given to convict of sin but Scripture says nothing about him assuring the convicted of their convictions prior to faith. On this Spurgeon says in the same sermon on ‘The Warrant of Faith’:
   ‘I believe the tendency of that preaching which puts the warrant for faith anywhere but in the gospel command, is to vex the true penitent, and to console the hypocrite; the tendency of it is to make the poor soul which really repents, feel that he must not believe in Christ, because he sees so much of his own hardness of heart. The more spiritual a man is, the more unspiritual he see himself to be . . . Often the most penitent men are those who think themselves the most impenitent.’
   ‘If we begin to preach to sinners that they must have a certain sense of sin and a certain measure of conviction, such teaching would turn the sinner away from God in Christ to himself. The man begins at once to say, “Have I a broken heart? Do I feel the burden of sin?” This is only another form of looking at self. Man must not look to himself to find reasons for God’s grace.’

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 71–74, 77–78.

The third reason given by Murray for Spurgeon’s rejection of Hyper-Calvinism was the denial of human responsibility.

Spurgeon regarded an emphasis on man’s free-agency as absolutely essential to true evangelism. Because Scripture teaches that conversion is the work of God, Hyper-Calvinism fears to appeal for human action lest it interferes with God. But Scripture also presents conversion as the work of man and recognizes no inconsistency in calling upon men to be reconciled to God. Because it does not recognize this, Hyper-Calvinism fails to tell the unconverted that it is heir fault alone if they remain unsaved under the gospel and that their damnation will be their own work. Not only is faith in Christ a duty, but as Spurgeon often showed from Scripture, a refusal to believe on Christ will be found at last o be a greater offence than the iniquities of Sodom and Gomorrah. ‘Is it not the very summit of arrogance and the height of pride for a son of Adam to say, even in his heart, “God, I doubt thy grace; God, I doubt Thy love; God, I doubt Thy power”? I feel that, could we roll all sins into one mass, — could we take murder, blasphemy, lust, adultery, fornication, and everything that is vile, and unite them all into one vast globe of black corruption, — they would not even then equal the sin of unbelief.’’
     In his autobiography Spurgeon reports how in his early days, before he came to London, he found himself with some ministers and others of Hyper-Calvinistic views ‘who were disputing whether it was a sin in men that they did not believe the gospel.’ The shock he felt on that occasion was to remain with him all his days: ‘Whilst they were discussing, I said, “Gentlemen, am I in the presence of Christians? Are you believers in the Bible or are you not?” They said, “We are Christians, of course.” “Then,” said I, “does not the Scripture say, ‘of sin, because they believe not on Me?’ And is it not the damning sin of men, that they do not believe on Christ?”’
     Spurgeon used this incident in the second sermon of the first volume of the New Park Street Pulpit, entitled ‘The Sin of Unbelief, and, as we have seen, much of the contention of Hyper-Calvinism against his preaching concerned this point. ‘I hold,’ he says, ‘as firmly as any man living, that repentance and conversion are the work of the Holy Spirit, but I would sooner lose this hand, and both, than I would give up preaching that it is the duty of men to repent and believe and that it is the duty of Christian ministers to say to them, “Repent and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out.”’
     Spurgeon frequently spoke against Hyper-Calvinism in his sermons. He did so at some length in an ‘Exposition of the Doctrines of Grace’ at the time of the opening of the Metropolitan Tabernacle in 1861 when he forcefully repudiated any idea of fatalism and insisted, ‘If he be lost, damnation is all of man; but, if he be saved, still salvation is all of God.’ God did not make men to be damned but, as Spurgeon showed from the Westminster Assembly’s Larger Catechism, wrath is only inflicted on men on account of sin: ‘This is no more than what the Methodist and all other Evangelical bodies acknowledge — that where men perish it is in consequence of their sin.’
     In his Preface to the Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit for 1863 he made what was possibly the last of his open appeals to those whom he describes as ‘led captive by ultra-calvinistic theories’, calling upon them to ‘preach the whole gospel, instead of a part’: ‘Divine sovereignty is a great and indisputable fact, but human responsibility is quite as indisputable . . . Faith is God’s gift, but it is also the act of renewed manhood. Damnation is the result of justice, not of arbitrary predestination. O that the time were come when seeming opposites would be received, because faith knows that they are portions of one harmonious whole. Would that an enlarged view of the dispensations of God to man would permit men to be faithful to the human race, and at the same time true to the Sovereign Lord of all.’

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 84–87.

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

Bad Laws

I almost titled this New Toy, but then you might not take me seriously. And I do so want to be taken seriously.

I am not a tech junkie. I don’t carry any electronic devices, not even a cell phone. I have my PC, which, for entirely practical purposes, I couldn’t live without. Yes, I would continue breathing, but you know what I mean. So it’s big news when I take another technological step forward. And I have big news.

I just bought my very first laptop, and, as the kids say, it’s a pretty sweet machine, and it’s pretty much the opposite of everything I’ve done computer-wise to this point. In the past, I’ve usually gone for the biggest and best that I could afford. My first purchased computer (I had previously been given an antique with a HD measured in megabytes and Windows 3.1) was the top of the line at the time, with a 120gb hard drive, 512mb RAM (I updated to 1gb a couple of years later), an 18 inch flatscreen, and Windows XP. The price was obscene — I’d be embarrassed to publish it here — but it was the best, so I had to have it. It irked me to no end when the next year’s upgrade of the same model came with a 160gb hard drive, 1gb RAM, and a 19 inch flatscreen, all for $500 less. After my first colossal purchase, I knew it would be a long time before I traded up, and I still haven’t, although I did buy a 24 inch widescreen a couple years ago, once again paying a premium price — three times the price of the same screen today.

My new laptop is not the biggest or most expensive by a long shot. It’s the Dell Mini-10 — that’s right, a 10 inch widescreen — with Windows XP, which starts at $279. Mine came to $444.26 with Microsoft Office, upgraded processor and battery, and Bluetooth. It’s a “bigger” machine than my boondoggle of a desktop, and I could almost hide it under my shirt.

Why you would want to know all that is beyond me, but maybe I can add some useful facts and tips that might interest you.

Right now I’ve got my desktop monitor, keyboard, and mouse plugged into the laptop, so it’s better than the old monster in almost every way, plus I can unplug it and take it with me. I don’t know if I’ll ever buy another desktop PC.

I used to customize everything, but I’ve toned down a little.

The first thing I did is download Firefox. Then I began customizing it. There are tons of things you can do to make Firefox behave as you like it by typing about:config in the address bar. You can really mess things up if you get carried away experimenting with this, but the worst that can happen is that you might have to download Firefox again and start over. The one customization I really like is getting rid of the tab close button (the little red x at the right corner of the tab) and placing a single close button at the far right of the tabs bar, like it was in older versions of Firefox. I don’t know how many times I’ve accidentally closed a tab when hurriedly clicking on it. To fix this, scroll down (in about:config) to browser.tabs.closeButtons, double click, and enter 3 for Value.

I also added the Google Toolbar for Firefox. I don’t have much use for the toolbar itself, but it comes with a Gmail notifier and an autofill function for one-click filling of online forms. Since those are the only functions I use, and I don’t like giving up screen space to another toolbar, I just right-click the toolbar, click customize, and drag those two buttons up to the main toolbar. Then I click view>toolbars and uncheck the Google toolbar.

Forcastfox is a favorite Firefox add-on. Monitor the weather without ever leaving your parent’s basement. One caveat: if you’re running a low-powered machine with little RAM, Forecastfox will freeze your machine momentarily every time it updates, so if you’re playing a DVD, you’ll want to close Firefox first.

The following customizations might lead you to believe I’m a bit pedantic, but that’s only because I am. At least the half-dozen or so CDOs* reading might appreciate these.

I don’t like being nagged to restart my computer to install updates. I’ll do that when I’m good and ready, thank you very much. If that irritates you too, press Windows-R on your keyboard, and in the Run dialog that should pop up, type “sc stop wuauserv,” click OK or hit Enter on your keyboard, and then go thank Dan Phillips for this tip. The bad news is that you’ll have to run this every time you reboot, but after the first time the command will appear in the dropdown of the dialog, so it’s just a 3-second inconvenience. Or, if you forget, just do it the next time the restart nag pops up.

The next tip is also courtesy of Mr Phillips. Are you obsessive about the order in which programs appear on your taskbar? Taskbar Shuffle is your friend. Drag-and-drop to rearrange your taskbar and tray icons at will.

I like a clean desktop. I mean really clean. But there’s that pesky Recycle Bin shortcut that you just can’t move. Well, now you can at least hide it.

Copy the following code into notepad and save the file as Recycle.reg in My Documents (or elsewhere). Go to My Documents (or your preferred folder) and double-click it. This will import it into the registry, and a new option will be listed in the Folder Options dialog box that will let you configure the Recycle Bin icon.

Windows Registry Editor Version 5.00

[HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINE\SOFTWARE\Microsoft\Windows\CurrentVersion\Explorer\Advanced\Folder\RecycleBinOnDesktop]
"RegPath"="Software\\Microsoft\\Windows\\CurrentVersion\\Explorer\\HideDesktopIcons\\NewStartPanel"
"Text"="Show Recycle Bin icon on the desktop"
"Type"="checkbox"
"ValueName"="{645FF040-5081-101B-9F08-00AA002F954E}"
"CheckedValue"=dword:00000000
"UncheckedValue"=dword:00000001
"DefaultValue"=dword:00000000
"HKeyRoot"=dword:80000001

And that is all for today. Have a good Saturday and a blessed Lord’s Day.

*That’s OCD to you normal people.

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

The Kingdom.
Horatius Bonar (1808–1889)

Peace! earth’s last battle has been won;
   Its days of conflict now are o’er;
The Prince of peace ascends the throne,
   And war has ceased from shore to shore.

Rest! the world’s day of toil is past;
   Each storm is hushed above, below,
Creation’s joy has come at last,
   After six thousand years of woe.

Messiah reigns! earth’s king has come!
   Its diadems are on his brow,
Its rebel kingdoms have become
   His everlasting kingdom now.

This earth again is Paradise;
   The desert blossoms as the rose;
Clothed in its robes of bridal bliss,
   Creation has forgot its woes.

O, long-expected, absent long.
   Star of creation’s troubled gloom!
Let heaven and earth break forth in song,
   Messiah! Saviour! art thou come?

For thou hast bought us with thy blood.
   And thou wast slain to set us free;
Thou mad’st us kings and priests to God,
   And we shall reign on earth with thee!

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

John 6:28–34

Therefore they said to Him, “What shall we do, so that we may work the works of God?” 29 Jesus answered and said to them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent.” 30 So they said to Him, “What then do You do for a sign, so that we may see, and believe You? What work do You perform? 31 Our fathers ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread out of heaven to eat.’” 32 Jesus then said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, it is not Moses who has given you the bread out of heaven, but it is My Father who gives you the true bread out of heaven. 33 For the bread of God is that which comes down out of heaven, and gives life to the world.” 34 Then they said to Him, “Lord, always give us this bread.”

These verses form the beginning of one of the most remarkable passages in the Gospels. None, perhaps, of our Lord’s discourses has occasioned more controversy, and been more misunderstood, than that which we find in the Sixth Chapter of John.
   We should observe, for one thing, in these verses, the spiritual ignorance and unbelief of the natural man. Twice over we see this brought out and exemplified. When our Lord instructed his hearers to “labour for the food which endures to eternal life,” they immediately began to think of works to be done, and a goodness of their own to be established. “What shall we do that we might work the works of God?” Doing, doing, doing, was their only idea of the way to heaven. Again, when our Lord spoke of Himself as One sent of God, and the need of believing on Him at once, they turn round with the question, “What sign showest thou? what dost thou work?” Fresh from the mighty miracle of the loaves and fishes, one might have thought they had had a sign sufficient to convince them. Taught by our Lord Jesus Christ himself, one might have expected a greater readiness to believe. But alas! there are no limits to man’s dulness, prejudice, and unbelief in spiritual matters. It is a striking fact that the only thing which our Lord is said to have “marvelled” at during His earthly ministry, was man’s “unbelief.” (Mark vi. 6.)
   We shall do well to remember this, if we ever try to do good to others in the matter of religion. We must not be cast down because our words are not believed, and our efforts seem thrown away. We must not complain of it as a strange thing, and suppose that the people we have to deal with are peculiarly stubborn and hard. We must recollect that this is the very cup of which our Lord had to drink, and like Him we must patiently work on. If even He, so perfect and so plain a Teacher, was not believed, what right have we to wonder if men do not believe us? Happy are the ministers, and missionaries, and teachers who keep these things in mind! It will save them much bitter disappointment. In working for God, it is of first importance to understand what we must expect in man. Few things are so little realized as the extent of human unbelief.
   We should observe, for another thing, in these verses, the high honour Christ puts on faith in Himself. The Jews had asked Him,—“What shall we do, that we might work the works of God?” In reply He says,—“This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent.” A truly striking and remarkable expression! If any two things are put in strong contrast, in the New Testament, they are faith and works. Not working, but believing,—not of works, but through faith,—are words familiar to all careful Bible-readers. Yet here the great Head of the Church declares that believing on Him is the highest and greatest of all “works!” It is “the work of God.”
   Doubtless our Lord did not mean that there is anything meritorious in believing. Man’s faith, at the very best, is feeble and defective. Regarded as a “work,” it cannot stand the severity of God’s judgment, deserve pardon, or purchase heaven. But our Lord did mean that faith in Himself, as the only Saviour, is the first act of the soul which God requires at a sinner’s hands. Until a man believes on Jesus, and rests on Jesus as a lost sinner, he is nothing.—Our Lord did mean that faith in Himself is that act of the soul which specially pleases God. When the Father sees a sinner casting aside his own righteousness, and simply trusting in His dear Son, He is well pleased. Without such faith it is impossible to please God.—Our Lord did mean that faith in Himself is the root of all saving religion. There is no life in a man until he believes.—Above all, our Lord did mean that faith in Himself is the hardest of all spiritual acts to the natural man. Did the Jews want something to do in religion? Let them know that the greatest thing they had to do was, to cast aside their pride, confess their guilt and need, and humbly believe.
   Let all who know anything of true faith thank God and rejoice. Blessed are those who believe! It is an attainment which many of the wise of this world have never yet reached. We may feel ourselves to be poor, weak sinners. But do we believe?—We may fail and come short in many things. But do we believe?—He that has learned to feel his sins, and to trust Christ as a Saviour, has learned the two hardest and greatest lessons in Christianity. He has been in the best of schools. He has been taught by the Holy Spirit.
   We shall observe, lastly, in these verses, the far greater privileges of Christ’s hearers than of those who lived in the times of Moses. Wonderful and miraculous as the manna was which fell from heaven, it was nothing in comparison to the true bread which Christ had to bestow on His disciples. He himself was the bread of God, who had come down from heaven to give life to the world.— The bread which fell in the days of Moses could only feed and satisfy the body. The Son of man had come to feed the soul.—The bread which fell in the days of Moses was only for the benefit of Israel. The Son of man had come to offer eternal life to the world.—Those who ate the manna died and were buried, and many of them were lost forever. But those who ate the bread which the Son of man provided, would be eternally saved.
   And now let us take heed to ourselves, and make sure that we are among those who eat the bread of God and live. Let us not be content with lazy waiting, but let us actually come to Christ, and eat the bread of life, and believe to the saving of our souls. The Jews could say,—”Evermore give us this bread.” But it may be feared they went no further. Let us never rest until, by faith, we have eaten this bread, and can say, “Christ is mine. I have tasted that the Lord is gracious. I know and feel that I am His.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:355–358

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

“Poor Al Gore. Global warming completely debunked via the very Internet you invented. Oh, oh, the irony!” —Jon Stewart

I was going to write something today about the “climategate” debacle. I was going to say something to the effect that up until the CRU emails were leaked, all climate-change propaganda came from liars and the exceptionally gullible, but since then, it now comes exclusively from liars and fools. I was also going say something about interested parties who try to sneak away unnoticed, and others who just plug their ears and sing “la-la-la I can’t hear you.”

But that’s not the kind of tone I want to set here on a Monday morning.

Instead, as an addendum to my post of Saturday last, I give you, with my apologies, this.

William Gurnall gives a warning to those of us who may be prone to accepting novel ideas too quickly:

When thou hearest any unusual doctrine, though never so pleasing, make not up the match hastily with it. Have some better testimony of it, before you open your heart to it. The apostle indeed bids us entertain strangers, for some have entertained angels unawares He. xiii.2; but he would not have us carried about with strange doctrine, ver. 9, [though] by this I am sure some have entertained devils. I confess, it is not enough to reject a doctrine, because strange to us, but ground we have, to wait and inquire. Paul marvelled that the Galatians were so soon removed from him, who had called them unto the grace of Christ, unto another gospel. They might sure have stayed till they had acquainted Paul with it, and asked his judgement. What, no sooner an impostor come into the country, and open his pack, but buy all his ware at first sight! O friends, were it not more wisdom to pray such new notions over and over again, to search the Word, and our hearts by it, yea, not to trust our own hearts, but [to] call in counsel from others? If your minister have not such credit with you, get the most holy, humble, and established Christians you can find. Error is like fish, which must be eaten new or it will stink. When those dangerous errors sprung up first in New England, O how unsettled were the churches! what an outcry was made, as if some mine of gold had been discovered! But in a while, when those error came to their complexion, and it was perceived whither they were bound—to destroy churches, ordinances, and power of godliness—then such as feared God, who had stepped aside, returned back with shame and sorrow.

—William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002), 1:191.

Spurgeon, contra Hyper-Calvinism, believed in the universal love of God for all men. He also believed, contra Arminianism, in the particular electing love of God for his chosen bride.

From what [Spurgeon taught] on the universal love of God, Hyper-Calvinists deduced that Spurgeon did not believe in a special electing love which secures the salvation of all those for whom Christ died. Sometimes Christians of Arminian persuasion, with a superficial knowledge of Spurgeon, have reached the same conclusion on Spurgeon’s position. But this is the same mistake as can be made in reading the Bible itself. All references to divine love in Scripture are not to be interpreted as universal (Arminianism), neither are they all to be made particular (Hyper-Calvinism). There is a differentiation observable in Scripture. In speaking to Christians Spurgeon would often make the difference clear: ‘Beloved, the benevolent love of Jesus is more extended than the lines of his electing love . . . That [i.e. the love revealed in Matthew 23:37] is not the love which beams resplendently upon his chosen, but it is true love for all that.’ God’s special love ‘is not love for all men . . . There is an electing, discriminating, distinguishing love, which is settled upon a chosen people . . . and it is this love which is the true resting place for the saint.’
   Arminianism, by making universal benevolence the only love revealed in Scripture, denies the sovereignty of grace and leads men to suppose that God had to make salvation equally available to all. Hyper-Calvinism, on the other hand, denies, in the words of John Murray, ‘that there is a love of God that goes forth to lost men and is manifested in the manifold blessings which all men without distinction enjoy, a love in which non-elect persons are embraced, and a love that comes to its highest expression in the entreaties, overtures and demands of gospel proclamation.’
   While holding firmly to these important theological distinctions, Spurgeon did not believe that they were ones which had necessarily to be introduced in presenting the gospel to the unconverted and he warned against the kind of preaching which appears more concerned to safeguard orthodoxy than to save the lost. ‘Many good people think they ought to guard the gospel . . . When we protect it with provisos, and guard it with exceptions, and qualify it with observations, it is like David in Saul’s armour.’
   He refused to explain how men could be held accountable for not trusting in a Saviour in whom they were never chosen, on the grounds that Scripture itself offers no explanation. It was enough for him that there is a salvation to be preached with love to all and that he call all to come to Christ and to say, ‘If he died for all those who trust him, I will trust him; if he has offered so great a sacrifice upon the tree for guilty men, I will rely upon that sacrifice and make it the basis of my hope.’

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 97–99.

Iain Murray lists four “Lessons from the Conflict” with the Hyper-Calvinists of Spurgeon’s day. The first concerns the divisiveness of the Hyper-Calvinists, which Spurgeon deplored. Murray writes:

   Genuine evangelical Christianity is never of an exclusive spirit. Any view of the truth which undermines catholicity has gone astray from Scripture. This was the point which played a considerable part in Spurgeon’s inability to join with the Strict Baptists. He could speak of them as ‘about the best people in the world,’ but the practice of many of their churches in restricting the Lord’s table to Baptists grieved him. Christians may be divided over their beliefs concerning the outward sign; they are not divided in the spiritual reality of symbolized: ‘I always say to Strict Baptist brethren who think it is a dreadful thing for baptized believers to commune with the unbaptized: “But you cannot help it; if you are the people of God you must commune with all saints, baptized or not. You may deny them outward and visible sign, but you cannot keep them from the inward and spiritual grace.” If a man be a child of God, I do not care what I may think about him – if he be a child of God I do commune with him and I must.’
   But he saw this professed separation of Strict Communion Baptists from the rest of the visible church was frequently made the more serious by the tenets of Hyper-Calvinism. Its teachers, from Huntington onwards, has commonly made faith in election a part of saving faith and thus either denied the Christianity of all professed Christians who did not so believe, or at least, treated such profession with much suspicion. In so doing they had spread the idea that Calvinism is necessarily exclusive, that there is something inherent in its tenets which lead men to separate from others. Spurgeon deplored the way that the abuse of the doctrine of election had thus been used to foster division:
   ‘We give our hand to every man that loves the Lord Jesus Christ, be he what he may or who he may. The doctrine of election, like the great act of election itself, is intended to divide, not between Israel and Israel, but between Israel and the Egyptians, – not between saint and saint, but between saints and the children of the world. A man may be evidently of God’s chosen family, and yet though elected, may not believe in the doctrine of election. I hold there are many savingly called, who do not believe in effectual calling, and that there are a great many who persevere to the end, who do not believe the doctrine of final perseverance. We do hope that the hearts of many are a great deal better than their heads. We do not set their fallacies down to any willful opposition to the truth as it is in Jesus, but simply to an error in their judgments, which we pray God to correct. We hope that if they think us mistaken too, they will reciprocate the same Christian courtesy; and when we meet around the cross, we hope that we shall ever feel that we are one in Christ Jesus.

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 110–112.

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

In Milton Friedman’s world, free trade agreements would be irrelevant. Friedman’s approach is not only economically expediant, but is, as I see it, the Christian — if I may use the term where it does not strictly apply — way of doing things.

   Given that we should move to free trade, how should we do so? The method that we have tried to adopt is reciprocal negotiation of tariff reductions with other countries. This seems to me a wrong procedure. In the first place, it ensures a slow pace. He moves fastest who moves alone. In the second place, it fosters an erroneous view of the basic problem. It makes it appear as if tariffs help the country imposing them but hurt other countries, as if when we reduce a tariff we give up something good and should get something in return in the form of a reduction in tariffs imposed by other countries. In truth, the situation is quite different. Our tariffs hurt us as well as other countries. We would be benefited by dispensing with our tariffs even if other countries would not. We would of course be benefited even more if they reduced theirs but our benefiting does not require that they reduce theirs. Self interests coincide and do not conflict.
   I believe it would be far benefits from better for us to move to free trade unilaterally, as Britain did in the nineteenth century when it repealed the corn laws. We, as they did, would experience an enormous accession of political and economic power. We are a great nation and it ill behooves us to require reciprocal benefits from Luxembourg before we reduce a tariff on Luxembourg products, or to throw thousands of Chinese refugees suddenly out of work by imposing import quotas on textiles from Hong Kong. Let us live up to our destiny and set the pace not be reluctant followers.

—Milton Friedman, Capitalism and Freedom (The University of Chicago Press, 2002), 73.

No, not D-Day, or even a book or movie about that momentous event. I’m talking about yesterday, on which day we embarked upon our annual Christmas shopping trip. The day actually went reasonably well this year, considering the nature of the adventure (definition 1a), but drug out — if memory of Christmases past serves — to an unprecedented length.

There are two philosophies of shopping. Plan One begins with a plan and a list, which is rigidly followed. Plan Two is to wander up and down every aisle of every store in town, buying nothing, until, having seen every single item available, the weary-almost-to-the-point-of-collapsing shoppers retrace their steps, having mostly decided what they will purchase.

Plan One ends happily at home in a short time with every item on the list marked off. Plan Two culminates in an actual collapse at home, with the proponent of Plan Two complaining to the proponent of Plan One about her his or her exhaustion and sore feet, and the advocate of Plan One rolling his eyes in frustration giving an understanding hug and rubbing her his or her feet.

I’m not going to say who leans toward which plan, or the extent to which I have exaggerated one of them (okay, it was a gross exaggeration of nearly unprecedented proportions; blame it on battle fatigue). I’ll just say we managed to strike a reasonably happy medium in method, but still stretched it out to epic length — hence the lateness of this post.

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

A Neophyte’s Devotion

Glorious and holy God,

Provocations against thy divine majesty have
   filled my whole life.
My offenses have been countless and aggravated.
   Conscience has rebuked me,
   friends have admonished me,
   the examples of others have reproached me,
   thy rod has chastised me,
   thy kindness allured me.
Thou hast seen and abhorred all my sins and
   couldst easily and justly have punished me,
   yet thou hast spared me,
      been gracious unto me,
      given me thy help,
      invited me to thy table.
Lord, I thankfully obey thy call,
   accept of thy goodness,
   acquiesce in thy gospel appointments.
I believe that Jesus thy Son has plenteous
   redemption;
I apply to him for his benefits,
   give up my mind implicitly to his instructions,
   trust and glory in his sacrifices,
   revere and love his authority,
   pray that his grace may reign in my life.
I will not love a world that crucified him,
   neither cherish nor endure the sin,
      that put him to grief,
   nor suffer him to be wounded by others.
At the cross that relieves my conscience
   let me learn lessons of self-denial, forgiveness
      and submission,
   feel motives to obedience,
   find resources for all needs of the divine life.
then let me be what I profess,
   do as well as teach,
   live as well as well as hear religion.

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

John 6:35–40

Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me will not hunger, and he who believes in Me will never thirst. 36 But I said to you that you have seen Me, and yet do not believe. 37 All that the Father gives Me will come to Me, and the one who comes to Me I will certainly not cast out. 38 For I have come down from heaven, not to do My own will, but the will of Him who sent Me. 39 This is the will of Him who sent Me, that of all that He has given Me I lose nothing, but raise it up on the last day. 40 For this is the will of My Father, that everyone who beholds the Son and believes in Him will have eternal life, and I Myself will raise him up on the last day.”

Three of our Lord Jesus Christ’s great sayings are strung together, like pearls, in this passage. Each of them ought to be precious to every true Christian. All taken together, they form a mine of truth, into which he that searches need never search in vain.
   We have, first, in these verses, a saying of Christ about Himself. We read that Jesus said,—“I am the bread of life; he that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.”
   Our Lord would have us know that He himself is the appointed food of man’s soul. The soul of every man is naturally starving and famishing through sin. Christ is given by God the Father, to be the Satisfier, the Reliever, and the Physician of man’s spiritual need. In Him and His mediatorial office,—in Him and His atoning death,—in Him and His priesthood,—in Him and His grace, love, and power,—in Him alone will empty souls find their needs supplied. In Him there is life. He is “the bread of life.”
   With what divine and perfect wisdom this name is chosen! Bread is necessary food. We can manage tolerably well without many things on our table, but not without bread. So is it with Christ. We must have Christ, or die in our own sins. Bread is food that suits all. Some cannot eat meat, and some cannot eat vegetables. But all like bread. It is food both for the Queen and the pauper. So is it with Christ. He is just the Saviour that meets the needs of every class. Bread is food that we need daily. Other kinds of food we take, perhaps, only occasionally. But we need bread every morning and evening in our lives. So is it with Christ. There is no day in our lives but we need His blood, His righteousness, His intercession, and His grace. Well may He be called, “The bread of life!”
   Do we know anything of spiritual hunger? Do we feel anything of craving and emptiness in conscience, heart, and affections? Let us distinctly understand that Christ alone can relieve and supply us, and that it is His office to relieve. We must come to Him by faith. We must believe on Him, and commit our souls into His hands. So coming, He pledges His royal word we shall find lasting satisfaction both for time and eternity. It is written,—“He that cometh unto me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.”
   We have, secondly, in these verses, a saying of Christ about those who come to Him. We read that Jesus said,—“Him that cometh to me I will in nowise cast out.”
   What does “coming” mean? It means that movement of the soul which takes place when a man, feeling his sins, and finding out that he cannot save himself, hears of Christ, applies to Christ, trusts in Christ, lays hold on Christ, and leans all his weight on Christ for salvation. When this happens, a man is said, in Scripture language, to “come” to Christ.
   What did our Lord mean by saying,—“I will in nowise cast him out”? He meant that He will not refuse to save any one who comes to Him, no matter what he may have been. His past sins may have been very great. His present weakness and infirmity may be very great. But does he come to Christ by faith? Then Christ will receive him graciously, pardon him freely, place him in the number of His dear children, and give him everlasting life.
   These are golden words indeed! They have smoothed down many a dying pillow, and calmed many a troubled conscience. Let them sink down deeply into our memories, and abide there continually. A day will come when flesh and heart shall fail, and the world can help us no more. Happy shall we be in that day, if the Spirit witnesses with our spirit that we have really come to Christ!
   We have, lastly, in these verses, a saying of Christ about the will of His Father. Twice over come the solemn words,—“This is the will of him that sent me.” Once we are told it is His will, “that every one that seeth the Son may have everlasting life.” Once we are told it is His will that, “of all which he has given to Christ he shall lose nothing.”
   We are taught by these words that Christ has brought into the world a salvation open and free to everyone. Our Lord draws a picture of it, from the story of the bronze serpent, by which bitten Israelites in the wilderness were healed. Every one that chose to “look” at the bronze serpent might live. Just in the same way, every one who desires eternal life may “look” at Christ by faith, and have it freely. There is no barrier, no limit, no restriction. The terms of the Gospel are wide and simple. Every one may “look and live.”
   We are taught, furthermore, that Christ will never allow any soul that is committed to Him to be lost and cast away. He will keep it safe, from grace to glory, in spite of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Not one bone of His mystical body shall ever be broken. Not one lamb of His flock shall ever be left behind in the wilderness. He will raise to glory, in the last day, the whole flock entrusted to His charge, and not one shall be found missing.
   Let the true Christian feed on the truths contained in this passage, and thank God for them. Christ the Bread of life,—Christ the Receiver of all who come to Him,—Christ the Preserver of all believers,—Christ is for every man who is willing to believe on Him, and Christ is the eternal possession of all who so believe. Surely this is glad tidings and good news!

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:367–370

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

Surely the Presence of the Lord Is in This Place

Chorus

Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place

I can feel His mighty power and His grace

I can hear the brush of angels wings

I see glory on each face

Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place

In the midst of His children the Lord said He would be

It doesn’t take very many, it can be just two or three

And I feel that same sweet spirit that I felt often times before

Surely I can say I’ve been with the Lord

Chorus

There’s a holy hush around us as God’s glory feels this place

I’ve touched the hem of His garment, I can almost see His face

And my heart is overflowing with the fullness of His joy

I know without a doubt that I’ve been with the Lord

Chorus

What a stupid song.

I will admit that I am by nature cynical and critical. And I’ll admit that those four words above pass through my mind every time I hear that song. I have never sung it, and never will. Now, having preemptively admitted my critical nature, I will add that the fact that I’m critical doesn’t mean it’s not a stupid song. And I promise I will be making a point here eventually — apart from the stupidity of the song (it is exceedingly stupid) — if you stick with me.

I do want to make one thing clear: I am not saying that those who sing this song are stupid. I am saying that they are probably, like the majority of what passes for “evangelical” these days, unthinking. And thinking is what this is all about. So let’s take it apart and think about it. Deconstructing the chorus should suffice, as the verses are more of the same (and I’ve never heard them sung, anyway).

Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place

Well, I hope so. If we are who we say we are, he surely is (Matthew 18:20).

I can feel His mighty power and His grace

No, you can’t; but as this is part of the main point, I’ll leave it until last.

I can hear the brush of angels wings

Seriously, now . . .

I see glory on each face

Oh, come on, now! If I was to look around me on a Sunday morning, I suspect I’d see a lot of tired eyes (perhaps I’m nit-picking here). I hope God’s glory might fill each mind, and maybe I’d see it manifest on faces, but then again, maybe not. In any case, what I see on faces is hardly relevant. I suspect many weary faces hide joyful hearts, while many an exuberant expression adorns an empty head.

Please don’t miss the point. This is not about criticizing one song or even a whole genre of songs.

Yeah, yeah, okay. Moving on to my main point: this song is all about feeling, as if feeling is a reliable indicator of reality. “Surely, the presence of the Lord is in this place,” and I know this because “I can feel his mighty power and his grace.” That thinking is as backwards as it can get.

I cannot feel his mighty power and his grace. I know there is a certain sector of Christianity — and I do mean genuine, gospel-believing Christians — who will doubt the depth of my faith, maturity, Spirit-filled-ness, or what-have-you, based upon that statement. Nevertheless, I stand by it without the slightest postmodern interweb “IMO” qualification. That does not mean that I have no feelings connected with God’s presence. If I did not, I would be concerned indeed. What I mean is that my feelings are no basis for any knowledge whatsoever. Rather, my knowledge stirs feelings, some of them quite profound. It is wonderfully comforting and encouraging to know that God is present at all times and in all places. I am reminded, in particular, of my savior’s promise to be with me “always, even to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

I do not feel God’s presence. I have deep — overwhelming, at times — feelings that are catalyzed by my knowledge of God’s presence. And that is so much better. My feelings, no matter how sincere, may be misguided and carnal. I have, at times, been happy about things that are positively sinful. My feelings cannot be trusted. Knowledge, on the other hand, when drawn from the infallible well of God’s Word, is trustworthy, and the profound feelings that flow from that knowledge, while not infallible, are at least worth mentioning in song.

Therefore, I leave you with this exhortation: don’t think because you feel; rather, feel because you know.

A warning about spiritual pride:

This was the sin made [Satan], of a blessed angel, a cursed devil; and as it was his personal sin, so he chiefly labours to derive it to the sons of men: and he so far prevailed on our first parents, that ever since, this sin hath and doth claim a kind of regency in the heart, making use both of bad and good to draw her chariot.
   First, it maketh use of evil. Pride enters into the labours of other sins; they do but work to make her brave, as subjects to uphold the state and grandeur of their prince. Thus you shall see some drudge and droil*, cheat, cozen†, oppress; and what mean they? O it is to get and estate to maintain their pride. Others fawn and flatter, lie, dissemble; and for what? to help pride up some mount on honour.
   Second. It maketh use of that which is good. It can work with God’s own tools, his ordinances, by which the Holy Spirit advanceth his kingdom of grace in the hearts of his saints. These often are prostituted to pride. A man may be very zealous in prayer, and painful in preaching, and all the while pride is the master whom he serves, though in God’s livery. It can take sanctuary in the highest actions, and hide itself under the skirt of virtue itself. Thus while a man is exercising his charity, pride may be the idol in secret for which he lavisheth out his gold so freely. It is hard starving this sin, because there is nothing almost but it can live on—nothing so base that a proud hear will not be lift up with, and nothing so sacred but it profane; [it will] even dare to drink in the bowels of the sanctuary, nay, rather than starve, it will feed on the carcasses of other sins. ‘That sin is with greatest difficult to avoided which springs from a victory of our vices.’ This minion pride will stir up the soul to resist, yea, in a manner kill, some sins, that she may boastingly show the head of them, and blow the creature up with the conceit of himself above others. As the Pharisee, who through pride bragged that he was not as the publican—so that pride, if not looked to, will have to do everywhere, and hath a large sphere it moves in. nothing indeed (without divine assistance) the creature hath or doth, but will soon become a prey to this devourer.

—William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002), 1:191–192.

* to work slowly.

† to persuade by deceit.

The second of four “Lessons from the Conflict” with the Hyper-Calvinists of Spurgeon’s day:

   This controversy brings out the danger which is created when biblical truths are constantly presented to the non-Christian in the wrong order. Spurgeon believed all the truths commonly called Calvinistic but he did not believe that all the truths commonly so designated had to be presented to sinners in order to their conversion. As noted, he wanted to see both divine sovereignty and human responsibility. The tendency of Hyper-Calvinism was to make sinners want to understand theology before they could believe in Christ, as though ‘they cannot be saved until they are theologians.’ But the non-Christian can hear ‘the soul and marrow of the gospel’, that is, Christ as the Savior, and see his responsibility to repent and believe, without understanding ‘the doctrines commonly called Calvinistic’. It is with his responsibility, says Spurgeon, that ‘the sinner has the most to do’, whereas God’s predestining grace is the subject of with which ‘the saint has most to do. Let him praise the free and sovereign grace of God, and bless his name’.
   In so thinking Spurgeon was surely siding with what the wisest preachers in the church had always taught. While Reformed Confessions may begin with statements on the doctrine of God and divine decrees, that is not where preachers and teachers need to begin in addressing men about salvation. In the apostolic teaching to the lost, recorded in the book of Acts, nothing is said of the doctrine of election, while in the Epistles ‘it is scarcely ever omitted’. In accordance with his approach, Calvin, in the later editions of his Institutes, moved his treatment of election to follow teaching on justification. He recognized that Scripture generally introduces the doctrine of election to show believers the security and certainty of their salvation and to make clear who made them to differ. But when election is constantly introduced as a preliminary to hearing the gospel it inevitably comes to be seen as though it were designed to limit or obstruct the salvation of men and women. No one put this point better than John Bradford, the English reformer, whose words were often quoted by Whitefield, ‘let a man go to the grammar school of faith and repentance, before he goes to the university of election and predestination.’
   It ought not to be the business of the evangelist to teach God’s decrees to the unconverted. It is certainly God’s decree of salvation which is fulfilled in conversion but knowledge of that decree is no part of saving faith. As Crawford says, God’s decrees are his fixed purposes and his ‘secret designs for the regulation of his own procedure; but they are not rules of laws prescribed for the guidance of others . . . The doctrine of election is not to be regarded as what an apostle calls “milk that babes have need of,” but as the “strong meat that belongs to them who are of full age.” It ought not, therefore, to be prefixed to the calls of the Gospel, or placed in the fore-front of the calls and invitations which are therein addressed without restriction to all sinners. When so placed, it is apt to perplex and disquiet humble souls . . . No man can be of the number of the elect if he utterly neglects the appointed means of salvation; and no man can be of the number of the non-elect if he truly repents and unfiegnedly believes the Gospel. The salvation of a sinner is actually brought to pass, according to the plainest declarations of the Holy Scripture, in the way of faith and repentance, and no otherwise.’

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 114–117.

The third of four “Lessons from the Conflict” with the Hyper-Calvinists of Spurgeon’s day is the vanity of expecting to answer every question satisfactorily to human reason. Murray writes:

This controversy directs us to our need for profound humility before God. It reminds us forcefully of questions about which we can only say, ‘behold, God is great, and we know him not’ (Job 36:26), and, ‘O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!’ (Rom. 11:33). We do not know why God has purposed to save some and not others, nor why, given his desire for the good of all, many are left in their sin. We cannot say why his love to all men is not the same to the elect. We do not know how God works in us ‘to will and to do’ and yet leaves us wholly responsible for our own actions, nor how invitations to all to believe on Christ are to be harmonised with electing grace. As Crawford said, various attempts have been made to solve such mysteries, ‘but, it must be owned, they have been signally unsuccessful.’ He concludes: ‘We do well to be exceedingly diffident in our judgments respecting matters so unsearchable as the secret purposes of God.’
   It is to be feared that sharp contentions between Christians on these issues have too often risen from a wrong confidence in our powers of reasoning and our assumed ability to draw logical inferences. It is arguable that in the eclipse of Calvinistic beliefs at the beginning of the eighteenth century, at a time when ‘reason’ was being made the test of all religious belief, the would-be defenders of orthodoxy who became Hyper-Calvinistic fell into the very mistake which they were seeking to correct. As J. I. Packer writes, ‘In an increasingly rationalistic age, the reaction itself was rationalistic, within the Reformed supernaturalistic frame.’ Joseph Hussey, the standard bearer of the movement, certainly gave justification of that charge. The contentious spirit in which he advocated his views was a discredit to the truth. John Newton was not the only Calvinist to complain that in Hussey’s writings, ‘I frequently found more bones than meat, and seasoned with much of an angry and self-important spirit.’
   Spurgeon, like all the children of men, had to learn humility, and he was not always entirely blameless in this regard in his early years, but it was given to him to see how a system which sought to attribute all to the grace of God had itself too much confidence in the powers of reason. His mature judgment on that point, given below, constitutes a statement of great value. Probably as a young man Spurgeon was, at times, over concerned to assert his agreement with Calvin but in his deepening humility before God, and his refusal to trust in human reason, he truly followed in the spirit of that leader and of all true teachers in the church of God. It was Calvin, shortly before his death, who, on the words, ‘have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die? saith the Lord God: and not that he should return from his ways, and live?’ (Ezek. 18:3) said this: ‘If any one again objects – this is making God act with duplicity, the answer is ready, that God always wishes the same thing, though by different ways, and in a manner inscrutable to us. Although, therefore, God’s will is simple, yet great variety is involved in it, as far as our senses are concerned. Besides, it is not surprising that our eyes should be blinded by intense light, so that we cannot judge how God wishes all to be saved, and yet has devoted all the reprobate to eternal destruction, and wishes them to perish. While we now look through a glass darkly, we should be content with the measure of our own intelligence (1 Cor. 13:12).’

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 117–119.

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

Milton Friedman explains one reason that mediocrity is about the best we can expect from the public school system:

   With respect to teachers’ salaries, the major problem is not they are too low on the average—they may well be too high on the average—but that they are too uniform and rigid. Poor teachers are grossly overpaid and good teachers grossly underpaid. Salary schedules tend to be uniform and determined far more by seniority, degrees received, and teaching certificates acquired than by merit. This, too, is largely a result of the present system of governmental administration of schools and becomes more serious as the unit over which governmental control is exercised becomes larger. Indeed, this very fact is the major reason professional education organizations so strongly favor broadening the unit—from the local school district to the state, from the state to the federal government. In any bureaucratic, essentially civil-service organization, standard salary scales are almost inevitable; it is next to impossible to simulate competition capable of providing wide differences in salary according to merit. The educators, which means the teachers themselves, come to exercise primary control. The parent or local community comes to exercise little control. In any area, whether it be carpentry or plumbing or teaching, the majority of workers favor standard salary scales and oppose merit differentials, for the obvious reason that the specially talented are always few. This is a special case of the general tendency for people to seek to collude to fix prices, whether through unions or industrial monopolies. But collusive agreements will generally be destroyed by competition unless the government enforces them, or at least renders them considerable support.
   If one were to seek to deliberately devise a system of recruiting and paying teachers calculated to repel the imaginative and daring and self-confident and to attract the dull and mediocre and uninspiring, he could hardly do better than imitate the system of requiring teaching certificates and enforcing standard salary structures that has developed in the larger city and state-wide systems. It is perhaps surprising that the level of ability in elementary and secondary school teaching is as high as it is under these circumstances.

—Milton Friedman, Capitalism and Freedom (The University of Chicago Press, 2002), 95–96.

How about some plain old frivolity on a Saturday? Alright, then; here you go:

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

HYMN XXII.
Jehovah-Shalem, The Lord send peace.    Judges vi. 24.
by William Cowper (1731–1800)

Jesus, whose blood so freely stream’d
To satisfy the laws demand;
By thee from guilt and wrath redeem’d,
Before the Father’s face I stand.

To reconcile offending man,
Make Justice drop her angry rod;
What creature could have form’d the plan,
Or who fulfil it but a God?

No drop remains of all the curse;
For wretches who deserv’d the whole;
No arrows dipt in wrath to pierce
The guilty, but returning soul.

Peace by such means so dearly bought,
What rebel could have hop’d to see?
Peace, by his injur’d sovereign wrought,
His Sov’reign fastened to the tree.

Now, Lord, thy feeble worm prepare!
For strife with earth and hell begins;
Confirm and gird me for the war,
They hate the soul that hates his sins.

Let them in horrid league agree!
They may assault, they may distress;
But cannot quench thy love to me,
Nor rob me of the Lord my peace.

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

John 6:41–51

Therefore the Jews were grumbling about Him, because He said, “I am the bread that came down out of heaven.” 42 They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How does He now say, ‘I have come down out of heaven’?” 43 Jesus answered and said to them, “Do not grumble among yourselves. 44 No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him; and I will raise him up on the last day. 45 It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught of God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father, comes to Me. 46 Not that anyone has seen the Father, except the One who is from God; He has seen the Father. 47 Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes has eternal life. 48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread which comes down out of heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down out of heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread also which I will give for the life of the world is My flesh.”

Truths of the weightiest importance follow each other in rapid succession in the chapter we are now reading. There are probably very few parts of the Bible which contain so many “deep things” as the Sixth Chapter of St. John. Of this the passage before as is a signal example.
   We learn, for one thing, from this passage, that Christ’s lowly condition, when He was upon earth, is a stumbling-block to the natural man. We read that “the Jews murmured, because Jesus said, I am the bread that came down from heaven. And they said, Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How is it then that he saith, I came down from heaven?”—Had our Lord come as a conquering king, with wealth and honours to bestow on His followers, and mighty armies in His train, they would have been willing enough to receive Him. But a poor, and lowly, and suffering Messiah was an offence to them. Their pride refused to believe that such an one was sent from God.
   There is nothing that need surprise us in this. It is human nature showing itself in its true colors. We see the same thing in the days of the Apostles. Christ crucified was “to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness.” (1 Cor. i. 23.) The cross was an offence to many wherever the Gospel was preached.—We may see the same thing in our own times. There are thousands around us who loathe the distinctive doctrines of the Gospel on account of their humbling character. They cannot away with the atonement, and the sacrifice, and the substitution of Christ. His moral teaching they approve. His example and self-denial they admire. But speak to them of Christ’s blood,—of Christ being made sin for us,—of Christ’s death being the corner-stone of our hope,—of Christ’s poverty being our riches,—and you will find they hate these things with a deadly hatred. Truly the offence of the cross is not yet ceased!
   We learn, for another thing, from this passage, man’s natural helplessness and inability to repent or believe. We find our Lord saying,—“No man can come unto me, except the Father which hath sent me draws him.” Until the Father draws the heart of man by His grace, man will not believe.
   The solemn truth contained in these words is one that needs careful weighing. It is vain to deny that without the grace of God no one ever can become a true Christian. We are spiritually dead, and have no power to give ourselves life. We need a new principle put in us from above. Facts prove it. Preachers see it. The Tenth Article of our own Church expressly declares it,—“The condition of man after the fall of Adam is such that he cannot turn and prepare himself, by his own natural strength and good works, to faith and calling upon God.” This witness is true.
   But after all, of what does this inability of man consist? In what part of our inward nature does this impotence reside? Here is a point on which many mistakes arise. Forever let us remember that the will of man is the part of him which is in fault. His inability is not physical, but moral. It would not be true to say that a man has a real wish and desire to come to Christ, but no power to come. It would be far more true to say that a man has no power to come because he has no desire or wish.—It is not true that he would come if he could. It is true that he could come if he would.—The corrupt will,—the secret disinclination,—the lack of heart, are the real causes of unbelief. It is here the mischief lies. The power that we want is a new will. It is precisely at this point that we need the “drawing” of the Father.
   These things, no doubt, are deep and mysterious. By truths like these God proves the faith and patience of His people. Can they believe Him? Can they wait for a fuller explanation at the last day? What they see not now they shall see hereafter. One thing at any rate is abundantly clear, and that is, man’s responsibility for his own soul. His inability to come to Christ does not make an end of his accountableness. Both things are equally true. If lost at last, it will prove to have been his own fault. His blood will be on his own head. Christ would have saved him, but he would not be saved. He would not come to Christ, that he might have life.
   We learn, lastly, in this passage, that the salvation of a believer is a present thing. Our Lord Jesus Christ says,—“Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that believeth on me hath everlasting life.” Life, we should observe, is a present possession. It is not said that he shall have it at last, in the judgment day. It is now, even now, in this world, his property. He hath it the very day that he believes.
   The subject is one which it much concerns our peace to understand, and one about which errors abound. How many seem to think that forgiveness and acceptance with God are things which we cannot attain in this life,—that they are things which are to be earned by a long course of repentance and faith and holiness,—things which we may receive at the bar of God at last, but must never pretend to touch while we are in this world! It is a complete mistake to think so. The very moment a sinner believes on Christ he is justified and accepted. There is no condemnation for him. He has peace with God, and that immediately and without delay. His name is in the book of life, however little he may be aware of it. He has a title to heaven, which death and hell and Satan can not overthrow. Happy are those who know this truth! It is an essential part of the good news of the Gospel.
   After all, the great point we have to consider is whether we believe. What shall it profit us that Christ has died for sinners, if we do not believe on Him? “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.” (John iii. 36.)

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:379–382.

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

We’ve just begun our Christmas break here, and I’ve decided to do very little blogging between now and the New Year. I’ll continue posting (so as not to break my all-important streak, don’t you know), but it will mostly be filler. And if you’d rather spend time with your family than check in here for the next couple of weeks, I won’t be offended.

It has been three years since I’ve given much ink to the jolly fat man. At that time, I said about all I have to say on the subject, and have felt no need to revisit the matter. For those of you who missed it, and remain deceived, I’ve got some news for you: there is no Santa Claus; and even if there was, We Don’t Even Have a Chimney.

This abomination by Bob Dylan could be the worst Christmas performance of all time; I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the most annoying. That distinction goes to Paul McCartney. If I was Jack Bauer, and I wanted to beat some intel out of the Fat Man, I’d stick him in a room and play this repeatedly. I know I’d crack by about the third time through. By the fifth, I’d sell out anyone.

And it’s no more charming performed by puppets. McCartney apparently built upon his previous experience of annoying Christmas songs with the Beatles.

It’s enough to make my inner curmudgeon mumble, “Humbug!”

Well, like I said on Monday, it’ll be mostly filler for the remainder of the year. Today, I just have a couple of Christmas gift suggestions (in case you haven’t gotten mine yet).

The Snuggie (not that hilarious — ha ha! — thing you used do to each other back in junior high) Wii Fit

Among the goodies opened last night:

Now I can see what that story we read last night was all about. No, not that story; this story. But speaking of that story, last week I posted a link to this cynical angle on O. Henry’s classic tale. Humorous, I thought, but wrong.

True, Della’s hair will grow back. Also true, Jim’s watch is gone. Sure, he can conceivably buy it back, but it will most likely be long gone before he can save that much. He might as well forget it. But like Della’s hair, which will grow back to receive the combs, he will eventually get another watch to join the fob. It won’t be the watch, but it will be a watch, and for all intents and purposes, they will eventually realize what they had intended that Christmas Eve. Yes, Jim’s sacrifice is greater — which, in the Christ & church/husband & wife metaphor, is perfectly reasonable — but, because of love, that places a greater burden of regret upon Della than Jim. However, and also because of the love that flows in both directions, there need be no regret on either part, but rather a three-fold joy: first, the joy of giving; second, the joy of receiving; and third, the joy of observing the other’s pleasure in both giving and receiving.

This year was our twentieth Christmas reading of The Gift of the Magi. I guess we’ll ignore the cynics and continue.

We used to tell jokes here on Saturdays. Some of them were even funny. Here’s a semi-Christmas-themed story for you, most likely appreciable by Americans of Scandinavian descent only.

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

Hymn 60. (L. M.)
The Virgin Mary’s song. Luke i. 46, &c.
Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

Our souls shall magnify the Lord,
In God the Saviour we rejoice:
While we repeat the Virgin’s song,
May the same Spirit tune our voice!

[The Highest saw her low estate,
And mighty things his hand hath done:
His overshadowing power and grace
Makes her the mother of his Son.

Let ev’ry nation call her bless’d,
And endless years prolong her fame;
But God alone must be ador’d:
Holy and reverend is his name.]

To those that fear and trust the Lord,
His mercy stands for ever sure:
From age to age his promise lives,
And the performance is secure.

He spake to Abra’m and his seed,
“In thee shall all the earth be bless’d;”
The memory of that ancient word
Lay long in his eternal breast.

But now no more shall Isr’el wait,
No more the Gentiles lie forlorn:
Lo, the desire of nations comes;
Behold, the promised seed is born!

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

John 6:52–59

Then the Jews began to argue with one another, saying, “How can this man give us His flesh to eat?” 53 So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in yourselves. 54 He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. 55 For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink. 56 He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him. 57 As the living Father sent Me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats Me, he also will live because of Me. 58 This is the bread which came down out of heaven; not as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live forever.” 59 These things He said in the synagogue as He taught in Capernaum.

Few passages of Scripture have been so painfully twisted and perverted as that which we have now read. The Jews are not the only people who have striven about its meaning. A sense has been put upon it, which it was never intended to bear. Fallen man, in interpreting the Bible, has an unhappy aptitude for turning food into poison. The things that were written for his benefit, he often makes an occasion for falling.
   Let us first consider carefully, what these verses do not mean. The “eating and drinking” of which Christ speaks do not mean any literal eating and drinking. Above all, the words were not spoken with any reference to the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. We may eat the Lord’s Supper, and yet not eat and drink Christ’s body and blood. We may eat and drink Christ’s body and blood, and yet not eat the Lord’s Supper. Let this never be forgotten.
   The opinion here expressed may startle some who have not looked closely into the subject. But it is an opinion which is supported by three weighty reasons.—For one thing, a literal “eating and drinking” of Christ’s body and blood would have been an idea utterly revolting to all Jews, and flatly contradictory to an often-repeated precept of their law.—For another thing, to take a literal view of “eating and drinking,” is to interpose a bodily act between the soul of man and salvation. This is a thing for which there is no precedent in Scripture. The only things without which we cannot be saved are repentance and faith.—Last, but not least, to take a literal view of “eating and drinking,” would involve most blasphemous and profane consequences. It would shut out of heaven the penitent thief. He died long after these words were spoken, without any literal eating and drinking. Will any dare to say he had “no life” in Him?—It would admit to heaven thousands of ignorant, godless communicants in the present day. They literally eat and drink, no doubt! But they have no eternal life, and will not be raised to glory at the last day. Let these reasons be carefully pondered.
   The plain truth is, there is a morbid anxiety in fallen man to put a carnal sense on Scriptural expressions, wherever he possibly can. He struggles hard to make religion a matter of forms and ceremonies,—of doing and performing,—of sacraments and ordinances,—of sense and of sight. He secretly dislikes that system of Christianity which makes the state of the heart the principal thing, and labours to keep sacraments and ordinances in the second place. Happy is that Christian who remembers these things, and stands on his guard! Baptism and the Lord’s supper, no doubt, are holy sacraments, and mighty blessings, when rightly used. But it is worse than useless to drag them in everywhere, and to see them everywhere in God’s Word.
   Let us next consider carefully, what these verses do mean. The expressions they contain are, no doubt, very remarkable. Let us try to get some clear notion of their meaning.
   The “flesh and blood of the Son of man” mean that sacrifice of His own body, which Christ offered up on the cross, when He died for sinners. The atonement made by His death, the satisfaction made by his sufferings, as our Substitute, the redemption effected by His enduring the penalty of our sins in His own body on the tree,—this seems to be the true idea that we should set before our minds.
   The “eating and drinking,” without which there is no life in us, means that reception of Christ’s sacrifice which takes place when a man believes on Christ crucified for salvation. It is an inward and spiritual act of the heart, and has nothing to do with the body. Whenever a man, feeling his own guilt and sinfulness, lays hold on Christ, and trusts in the atonement made for him by Christ’s death, at once he “eats the flesh of the Son of man, and drinks His blood.” His soul feeds on Christ’s sacrifice, by faith, just as his body would feed on bread. Believing, he is said to “eat.” Believing, he is said to “drink.” And the special thing that he eats, and drinks, and gets benefit from, is the atonement made for his sins by Christ’s death for him on Calvary.
   The practical lessons which may be gathered from the whole passage are weighty and important. The point being once settled, that “the flesh and blood” in these verses means Christ’s atonement, and the “eating and drinking” mean faith, we may find in these verses great principles of truth, which lie at the very root of Christianity.
   We may learn, that faith in Christ’s atonement is a thing of absolute necessity to salvation. Just as there was no safety for the Israelite in Egypt who did not eat the passover-lamb, in the night when the first-born were slain, so there is no life for the sinner who does not eat the flesh of Christ and drink His blood.
   We may learn that faith in Christ’s atonement unites us by the closest possible bonds to our Saviour, and entitles us to the highest privileges. Our souls shall find full satisfaction for all their wants:—”His flesh is food indeed, and His blood is drink indeed.” All things are secured to us that we can need for time and eternity:—”Whoso eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.”
   Last, but not least, we may learn that faith in Christ’s atonement is a personal act, a daily act, and an act that can be felt. No one can eat and drink for us, and no one, in like manner, can believe for us.—We need food every day, and not once a week or once a month,—and, in like manner, we need to employ faith every day.—We feel benefit when we have eaten and drunk, we feel strengthened, nourished, and refreshed; and, in like manner, if we believe truly, we shall feel the better for it, by sensible hope and peace in our inward man.
   Let us take heed that we use these truths, as well as know them. The food of this world, for which so many take thought, will perish in the using, and not feed our souls. He only that eats of “the bread that came down from heaven” shall live forever.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)], 3:393–396

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

I was blessed this morning with an email from a brother in Romania informing me that he had translated one of my posts for use on his Romanian website. It is, of course, gratifying to see the Lord use anything I have done so far away. But more than that, it was a reminder to pray for our brothers and sisters who serve in missions, especially at this time of year when it is particularly difficult to be so far from home.

Just a reminder: I haven’t received my Christmas gifts from most of you yet. I know, it’s difficult to know what to get the man who has . . . oh, you don’t know what I’ve got, do you? Well, I don’t have this or this. Either one or both would be fine. Thanks.

“You can tell it’s Mattel — it’s swell!”

We will take a momentary break from our holiday frivolity to bring you a final installment from Iain Murray’s Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism. We will return tomorrow with more pointless drivel.

The last of four “Lessons from the Conflict” with the Hyper-Calvinists of Spurgeon’s day is that doctrine not kept in perspective can become a master rather than a servant. Iain Murray writes:

The final conclusion has to be that when Calvinism ceases to be evangelistic, when it becomes more concerned with theory than with the salvation of men and women, when the acceptance of doctrines seems to become more important than acceptance of Christ, then it is a system going to seed and it will invariably lose its attractive power. As we have seen, in his early ministries Spurgeon was opposed by those who believed that the Hyper-Calvinism of such eighteenth century-Baptists as John Gill represented the purest Christianity under heaven. That interpretation of history he knew to be wrong, not simply because it fell short of Scripture, but because its effect was to reduce endeavors for the conversion of sinners. ‘During the pastorate of my venerated predecessor, Dr. Gill, this Church, instead of increasing, gradually decreased . . . But mark this, from the day when Fuller, Carey, Sutcliffe, and others, met together to send out missionaries to India the sun began to dawn on a gracious revival which is not over yet.’
   In this connection it is noteworthy that just as renewed understanding of the free offer of the gospel led to the age of overseas missions in England it did also – by different means – in Scotland. As James Walker writes, Boston and the Morrow men ‘entered fully into the missionary spirit of the Bible’ and ‘were able to see that Calvinistic doctrine is inconsistent with world-conquering aspirations and efforts.’ Robert Moffat, Scots pioneer missionary in South Africa, was one of the outstanding results of this rediscovery. A Calvinist who made the Shorter Catechism of the Westminster Assembly one of the first publications of the infant missions press at Kuruman, Moffat had no hesitation in writing as follows in 1834:
   ‘I see nothing in the world worth looking after if it has not a direct reference to the gory and extension of the Redeemer’s kingdom; and were we always able to have a lively view of the myriads of who are descending into the horrible pit, our zeal would be proportionate. Much depends on us who have received the ministry of reconciliation, assured that God our Savior willeth the salvation of all.’
   To say this is not to deny that there have been preachers of Hyper-Calvinistic views whose preaching has been used In the conversion of many. Spurgeon was thankful for such men as John Warburton and John Kernshaw, men whose Christ-centeredness often enabled them to rise above their system. But in the hands of the general run of men who regarded Hyper-Calvinism as scriptural he believed the tendency of the preaching was inevitably injurious. By distorting and exaggerating truth the system misrepresented vital doctrines and made them offensive instead of appealing to the wider Christian world. He was convinced that the truths called Calvinistic would never be more widely received among the churches if the impression was allowed to prevail that these truths inhibited earnest evangelism, as they commonly did where Hyper-Calvinism became the accepted tradition. ‘I have seen,’ he says, ‘to my inexpressible grief, the doctrines of grace made a huge stone to be rolled at the mouth of the dead sepulcher of a dead Christ.’
   Hyper-Calvinism still exists today but what is needed far more than a renewed controversy on the subject is living evidence that the doctrines of grace are harmonious with true evangelistic preaching. The ministries of such men as Whitefield, Spurgeon, and, more recently, Lloyd-Jones, proved that more than a thousand books could ever do. Such preaching can only come from a baptism of new and deeper devotion to Christ. Much more than a change of opinion is needed. Spurgeon labored all his ministry for purity of doctrine but his final word was always this:
   ‘What is doctrine after all but the throne whereon Christ sitteth, and when the throne is vacant what is the throne to us? Doctrines are the shovel and tongs for the altar, while Christ is the sacrifice smoking thereon. Doctrines are Christ’s garments; verily they smell of myrrh, and cassia, and aloes out of the ivory places, whereby they make us glad, but it is not the garments we care for as much as the person, the very person, of our Lord Jesus Christ.’

—Iain Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-Calvinism (Banner of Truth, 2002), 120–122.

Today is your last chance to break any 2009 New Year’s resolutions you might have inadvertently kept until now. Clear ’em out and make room for more!