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

Yet I Sin

Eternal Father,

Thou art good beyond all thought,
But I am vile, wretched, miserable, blind;
My lips are ready to confess,
   but my heart is slow to feel
   and my ways reluctant to amend.
I bring my soul to thee;
   break it, wound it, bend it, mould it.
Unmask to me sin’s deformity,
   that I may hate it, abhor it, flee from it.
My faculties have been a weapon of revolt
      against thee;
   as a rebel I have misused my strength,
   and served the foul adversary of thy kingdom.
Give me grace to bewail my insensate folly,
Grant me to know that the way of transgressors
      is hard
   that evil paths are wretched paths,
   that to depart from thee is to lose all good.

I have seen the purity and beauty of thy perfect law,
   the happiness of those in whose heart it reigns,
   the calm dignity of the walk to which it calls,
      yet I daily violate and contemn its precepts.
Thy loving Spirit strives within me,
   brings me Scripture warnings,
   speaks in startling providences,
   allures by secret whispers,
      yet I choose devices and desires to my own hurt,
   impiously resent, grieve,
   and provoke him to abandon me.

All these sins I mourn, lament, and for them
   cry pardon.
Work in me more profound and abiding repentance;
Give me the fullness of a godly grief
   that trembles and fears,
   yet ever trusts and loves,
   which is ever powerful, and ever confident;
Grant that through the tears of repentance
   I may see more clearly the brightness
   and glories of the saving cross.

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

John 12:27–33

Now My soul has become troubled; and what shall I say, ‘Father, save Me from this hour’? But for this purpose I came to this hour. 28 Father, glorify Your name.” Then a voice came out of heaven: “I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.” 29 So the crowd of people who stood by and heard it were saying that it had thundered; others were saying, “An angel has spoken to Him.” 30 Jesus answered and said, “This voice has not come for My sake, but for your sakes. 31 Now judgment is upon this world; now the ruler of this world will be cast out. 32 And I, if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to Myself.” 33 But He was saying this to indicate the kind of death by which He was to die.

   These verses show us what St. Peter meant, when he said, “There are some things hard to be understood” in Scripture. (2 Pet. iii. 16.) There are depths here which we have no line to fathom thoroughly. This need not surprise us, or shake our faith. The Bible would not be a book “given by inspiration of God,” if it did not contain many things which pass man’s finite understanding. With all its difficulties, it contains thousands of passages which the most unlearned may easily comprehend. Even here, if we look steadily at these verses, we may gather from them lessons of considerable importance.
   We have, first, in these verses, a great doctrine indirectly proved. That doctrine is the imputation of man’s sin to Christ.
   We see the Saviour of the world, the eternal Son of God troubled and disturbed in mind: “Now is my soul troubled.” We see Him who could heal diseases with a touch, cast out devils with a word, and command the waves and winds to obey Him, in great agony and conflict of spirit. Now how can this be explained?
   To say, as some do, that the only cause of our Lord’s trouble was the prospect of His own painful death on the cross, is a very unsatisfactory explanation. At this rate it might justly be said that many a martyr has shown more calmness and courage than the Son of God. Such a conclusion is, to say the least, most revolting. Yet this is the conclusion to which men are driven if they adopt the modern notion, that Christ’s death was only a great example of self-sacrifice.
   Nothing can ever explain our Lord’s trouble of soul, both here and in Gethsemane, except the old doctrine, that He felt the burden of man’s sin pressing Him down. It was the mighty weight of a world’s guilt imputed to Him and meeting on his head, which made Him groan and agonize, and cry, “Now is my soul troubled.” Forever let us cling to that doctrine, not only as untying the knot of the passage before us, but as the only ground of solid comfort for the heart of a Christian. That our sins have been really laid on our Divine Substitute, and borne by Him, and that His righteousness is really imputed to us and accounted ours,—this is the real warrant for Christian peace. And if any man asks how we know that our sins were laid on Christ, we bid him read such passages as that which is before us, and explain them on any other principle if he can. Christ has borne our sins, carried our sins, groaned under the burden of our sins, been “troubled” in soul by the weight of our sins, and really taken away our sins. This, we may rest assured, is sound doctrine this is Scriptural theology.
   We have, secondly, in these verses, a great mystery unfolded. That mystery is the possibility of much inward conflict of soul without sin.
   We cannot fail to see in the passage before us a mighty mental struggle in our blessed Saviour. Of its depth and intensity we can probably form very little conception. But the agonizing cry, “My soul is troubled,”—the solemn question, “What shall I say?”—the prayer of suffering flesh and blood, “Father, save Me from this hour,”—the meek confession, “For this cause came I unto this hour,”—the petition of a perfectly submissive will, “Father, glorify Your name,”—what does all this mean? Surely there can be only one answer. These sentences tell of a struggle within our Saviour’s breast, a struggle arising from the natural feelings of one who was perfect man, and as man could suffer all that man is capable of suffering. Yet He in whom this struggle took place was the Holy Son of God. “In Him is no sin.” (1 St. John 3:5.) There is a fountain of comfort here for all true servants of Christ, which ought never to be overlooked. Let them learn from their Lord’s example that inward conflict of soul is not necessarily in itself a sinful thing. Too many, we believe, from not understanding this point, go heavily all their days on their way to heaven. They fancy they have no grace, because they find a fight in their own hearts. They refuse to take comfort in the Gospel, because they feel a battle between the flesh and the Spirit. Let them mark the experience of their Lord and Master, and lay aside their desponding fears. Let them study the experience of His saints in every age, from Paul downwards, and understand that as Christ had inward conflicts, so must Christians expect to have them also. To give way to doubts and unbelief, no doubt is wrong, and robs us of our peace. There is a faithless despondency, unquestionably, which is blameworthy, and must be resisted, repented of, and brought to the fountain for all sin, that it may be pardoned. But the mere presence of fight and strife and conflict in our hearts is in itself no sin. The believer may be known by his inward warfare as well as by his inward peace.
   We have, thirdly, in these verses, a great miracle exhibited. That miracle is the heavenly Voice described in this passage,—a voice which was heard so plainly that people said it thundered,—proclaiming, “I have glorified my name, and will glorify it again.”
   This wondrous Voice was heard three times during our Lord’s earthly ministry. Once it was heard at His baptism, when the heavens were opened and the Holy Ghost descended on Him. Once it was heard at His transfiguration, when Moses and Elijah appeared for a season with Him, before Peter, James, and St. John. Once it was heard here at Jerusalem, in the midst of a mixed crowd of disciples and unbelieving Jews. On each occasion we know that it was the Voice of God the Father. But why this Voice was only heard on these occasions we are left to conjecture. The thing was a deep mystery, and we cannot now speak particularly of it.
   Let it suffice us to believe that this miracle was meant to show the intimate relations and unbroken union of God the Father and God the Son, throughout the period of the Son’s earthly ministry. At no period during His incarnation was there a time when the eternal Father was not close to Him, though unseen by man.—Let us also believe that this miracle was meant to signify to bystanders the entire approval of the Son by the Father, as the Messiah, the Redeemer, and the Saviour of man. That approval the Father was pleased to signify by voice three times, as well as to declare by signs and mighty deeds, performed by the Son in His name. These things we may well believe. But when we have said all, we must confess that the Voice was a mystery. We may read of it with wonder and awe, but we cannot explain it.
   We have, lastly, in these verses, a great prophesy delivered. The Lord Jesus declared, “I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me.”
   Concerning the true meaning of these words, there can be but one opinion in any honest mind. They do not mean, as is often supposed, that if the doctrine of Christ crucified is lifted up and exalted by ministers and teachers, it will have a drawing effect on hearers. This is undeniably a truth, but it is not the truth of the text. They simply mean that the death of Christ on the cross would have a drawing effect on all mankind. His death as our Substitute, and the Sacrifice for our sins, would draw multitudes out of every nation to believe on Him and receive Him as their Saviour. By being crucified for us, and not by ascending a temporal throne, He would set up a kingdom in the world, and gather subjects to Himself.
   How thoroughly this prophecy has been fulfilled for eighteen centuries, the history of the Church is an abundant proof. Whenever Christ crucified has been preached, and the story of the cross fully told, souls have been converted and drawn to Christ, in every part of the world, just as iron-filings are drawn to a magnet. No truth so exactly suits the needs of all children of Adam, of every color, climate, and language, as the truth about Christ crucified.
   And the prophecy is not yet exhausted. It shall yet receive a more complete accomplishment. A day shall come when every knee shall bow before the Lamb that was slain, and every tongue confess that He is Lord to the glory of God the Father. He who was “lifted up” on the cross shall yet sit on the throne of glory, and before Him shall be gathered all nations. Friends and foes, each in their own order, shall be “drawn” from their graves, and appear before the judgment-seat of Christ. Let us take heed in that day that we are found on His right hand!

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

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

I post the following quote in reply to some folks who insist that the gospel, unaccompanied by signs, lacks power, or that signs and wonders add power to the Word. It comes from Ryle’s commentary on John 11:47–57.

   We should observe, for one thing, in these verses, the desperate wickedness of man’s natural heart. A mighty miracle was wrought within an easy walk of Jerusalem. A man four days dead was raised to life, in the sight of many witnesses. The fact was unmistakable, and could not be denied; and yet the chief priests and Pharisees would not believe that He who did this miracle ought to be received as the Messiah. In the face of overwhelming evidence they shut their eyes, and refused to be convinced. “This man,” they admitted, “does many miracles.” But so far from yielding to this testimony, they only plunged into further wickedness, and “took counsel to put Him to death.” Great, indeed, is the power of unbelief!
   Let us beware of supposing that miracles alone have any power to convert men’s souls, and to make them Christians. The idea is a complete delusion. To fancy, as some do, that if they saw something wonderful done before their eyes in confirmation of the Gospel, they would at once cast off all indecision and serve Christ, is a mere idle dream. It is the grace of the Spirit in our hearts, and not miracles, that our souls require. The Jews of our Lord’s day are a standing proof to mankind that men may see signs and wonders, and yet remain hard as stone. It is a deep and true saying, “If men believe not Moses and the Prophets, neither would they be persuaded though one rose from the dead.” (Luke xvi. 31.)

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

Furthermore,

19 For it is written,
   “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,
   and the cleverness of the clever I will set aside.”
20 Where is the wise man? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? 21 For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not come to know God, God was well-pleased through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe. 22 For indeed Jews ask for signs and Greeks search for wisdom; 23 but we preach Christ crucified, to Jews a stumbling block and to Gentiles foolishness, 24 but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

—1 Corinthians 1

Yesterday

Yesterday,
All my troubles started yesterday,
And it seemed they’d never go away,
Oh, I was grieving, yesterday.

Predictably,
Tech support could not understand me;
Wanted to drown myself in the sea;
Oh, yesterday passed painfully.

Why my modem died, I don’t know, but anyway,
Its replacement came, I installed it yesterday.

Yesterday,
My hair turned consid’rably more gray,
And my ragged nerves began to fray,
Oh, I aged ten years yesterday.

Why my modem died, I don’t know, but anyway,
Its replacement came, I installed it yesterday.

Yesterday,
Longing for a long forgotten day,
When typewriters were the normal way,
Pens and pencils, yesterday.

Less lyrically, yesterday:

My modem had become increasingly unreliable, so I replaced both it and the old wireless router with a single unit router/modem. The first phase of the operation went like this:

1. Hook up router
2. Insert disc, run setup wizard
3. “Router not responding . . . all cables connected . . . disable firewall and anti-virus programs and run wizard again.”
4. Disable firewall and anti-virus, run wizard again
5. “Router not responding . . .”
6. Check connections again
7. “Router not responding . . .”
8. Check connections again
9. Make sure firewall and anti-virus are really disabled
10. Run setup wizard again
11. “Router not responding . . .”
12. Mentally bang head on desk until bloody
13. Call ISP support
14. “What? You didn’t buy your new router from us? You idiot! We can’t help you!

We humans tend to think rather highly of ourselves. Treated well, we generally think we have earned it. Treated badly, we may complain that we “deserve better.” And if we suspect that we might not be thinking highly enough of ourselves, we complain of “low self-esteem.” Christians, who ought to know better, are no exception. We often judge ourselves based on our own subjective feelings, as if having “peace” or “a clear conscience” indicates that we are right. Mark Dever writes:

Paul says . . . “I care very little if I am judged by you or any human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me” (1 Cor. 4:3–4). Paul is unaware of anything against himself, but knows that he is not acquitted by his self-assessment. It is the Lord who judges him. Of course, Paul is not saying that self-examination is wrong; in fact, he calls for it later in his letter (9:4–27; cf. 2 Cor. 13:5), but our self-assessment—a clear conscience—simply isn’t the ultimate issue. The nature of our fallenness is such that we can have a clear conscience and still be wrong, which is why our conscience must be educated by the Word of God. Self-esteem can’t be the final arbiter because we esteem ourselves too highly! We are called to make provisional judgments (so Matt. 7:6)—as Paul is about to do forcefully in 2 Corinthians 5!—but no mere human is our ultimate judge because, as Paul says in 4:4, we will be judged by the Lord (cf. 2:10–16).

—Mark Dever, Preaching the Cross (Crossway, 2007), 22–23.

Preaching the Cross is a collection of messages from the 2006 Together for the Gospel Conference. You can download the entire message from which today’s quote was taken here.

When we think of the attributes of God, we generally think of things like omniscience and omnipotence, justice and mercy, or holiness and sovereignty, attributes that speak of power, authority, and glory. But God also has an attribute that seems quite incongruous with his more spectacular attributes. It is also one that completes his character beautifully. Ligon Duncan said:

Consider what we learn about God from 2 Samuel 7. It is right in the context of that Davidic covenant. But look at how it starts: David wants to build a temple for the Lord. He is dwelling in a cedar-lined palace, and he looks over at the ark of the covenant of God—the visible symbol of manifestation of the presence of God with his people in the old covenant—and it is in a tent. It is a glorious tent. It is a relatively big tent for a nomad. And David says, “It’s not right for me to live in a palace while the ark of God is in a tent.” And his humility leads him to say, “Lord God, I want to build a temple for you that is greater than the palace that I live in. It’s not right that I live in something more glorious than what the ark of God is housed in.”
   God sends Nathan to say, “Are you going to be the one who will build me a house to dwell in?” and notice what God says: “For I have not dwelt in a house since the day I brought up the sons of Israel from Egypt, even to this day; but I have been moving about in a tent, even in a tabernacle. Wherever I have gone with all the sons of Israel, did I speak a word with one of the tribes of Israel, which I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, ‘Why have you not built Me a house of cedar?’” (2 Sam. 7:6-7).
   That’s a glorious passage about the character of God. Do you know what it tells us? It tells us that this majestic, awesome, transcendent, creating, redeeming God is humble. In effect he says, “David, I want to tell you something. When my people were going through the wilderness, living in tents, I lived in a tent with them—right in the middle of it—and I never asked them to do anything for me, other than to let me live with them right where they were.”
   What does this tell you about the character of God? It is the same thing that tells us: “The Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory” (John 1:14). But it was the Father who had revealed that part of himself in the old covenant.

—Ligon Duncan, Preaching the Cross (Crossway, 2007), 61–62.

Preaching the Cross is a collection of messages from the 2006 Together for the Gospel Conference. You can download the entire message from which today’s quote was taken here.

It’s an Oprah and Dr. Phil world, in which bad things happen to good people, good people have environmentally-generated self-image “issues,” and the right attitude (and possibly the right prescription) is the cure for everything. What world is that? The secular world? The world of those other religions? No, it’s the world of the average evangelical, in which very little requires forgiveness, where Jesus is not the great physician, healing our disease of sin, but the great therapist, helping us to overcome our psychological hang-ups and fulfill our potential. Albert Mohler writes:

   Therapeutic modalities and answering questions with a therapeutic response have become the reflex of our society. If you doubt this, just go into your local Christian bookstore; what your are likely to find are rows upon rows of books that demonstrate this very therapeutic worldview, with just a few Bible verses added to make it Christian. We have to understand that for Americans this is normal. It is normal to be told that the self is the center of the meaning system, and that the self is a project that they undertake throughout the entirety of their lives. As a result, most Americans believe that their major problem is something that has happened to them, and that their solution is to be found within. In other words, they believe that they have an alien problem that is to be resolved with an inner solution. What the gospel says, however, is that we have an inner problem that demands an alien solution—a righteousness that is not our own. Once we begin to understand how that dichotomy comes together, we can see better how we can think we are talking about the gospel, yet people in this culture will hear it as merely a new form of therapy.

—Albert Mohler, Preaching the Cross (Crossway, 2007), 81.

Preaching the Cross is a collection of messages from the 2006 Together for the Gospel Conference. You can download the entire message from which today’s quote was taken here.

Today’s hymn, Sweet Hour of Prayer, is a Fundy favorite. I don’t know how well known it is in other denominational circles. I debated whether or not to include it here, as it really is not one of the greats, but as the series is Hymns of My Youth, and this song is both doctrinally acceptable and was a favorite in my church, as well as a personal favorite for years, I decided to slip it in.

11 Sweet Hour of Prayer

Sweet hour of pray’r! sweet hour of pray’r!
That calls me from a world of care,
And bids me at my Father’s throne
Make all my wants and wishes known:
In seasons of distress and grief,
My soul has often found relief;
And oft escaped the tempter’s snare,
By thy return, sweet hour of pray’r!

Sweet hour of pray’r! sweet hour of pray’r!
The joys I feel, the bliss I share
Of those whose anxious spirits burn
With strong desires for thy return!
With such I hasten to the place,
Where God my Savior shows His face,
And gladly take my station there,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of pray’r!

Sweet hour of pray’r! sweet hour of pray’r!
Thy wings shall my petition bear
To Him whose truth and faithfulness,
Engage the waiting soul to bless;
And since He bids me seek His face,
Believe His Word and trust His grace,
I’ll cast on Him my every care,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of pray’r!

—The Concordia Hymnal (Augsburg Publishing House), 1960.

Verse 1 gets off to a shaky start. It has a goose-pimply mystical flavor reminiscent of In the Garden that gives me the heebie-jeebies. It earns points in the latter half with “In seasons of distress and grief, / My soul has often found relief; / And oft escaped the tempter’s snare, / By thy return, sweet hour of pray’r,” but it is still too vague. Verse 2 is like totally In the Garden (can’t help saying in airheadish). At this point, I’m ready to throw the whole squishy mess, but then verse 3 comes along and pulls it together with a strong finish: “And since He bids me seek His face, / Believe His Word and trust His grace, / I’ll cast on Him my every care, / And wait for thee, sweet hour of pray’r!” The single indispensible phrase that redeems what would otherwise be a hopelessly sentimental mess is “Believe His Word and trust His grace.” If you sing this song, hang your hat there. And never forget that to “believe his Word and trust his grace,” you must know what his Word says. You can’t feel it, you must think it.

George Beverly Shea

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

Hymn 38.    Part 1.    (c. m.)
The atonement of Christ. Rom. iii. 25.
Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

How is our nature spoil’d by sin!
   Yet nature ne’er hath found
The way to make the conscience clean,
   Or heal the painful wound.

In vain we seek for peace with God
   By methods of our own:
Jesus, there’s nothing but thy blood
   Can bring us near the throne.

The threat’nings of thy broken law
   Impress our souls with dread;
If God his sword of vengeance draw,
   It strikes our spirits dead.

But thine illustrious sacrifice
   Hath answer’d these demands:
And peace and pardon from the skies
   Came down by Jesus’ hands.

Here all the ancient types agree,
   The altar and the lamb;
And prophets in their visions see
   Salvation through his name.

’Tis by thy death we live, O Lord,
   ’Tis on thy cross we rest;
For ever be thy love ador’d,
   Thy name for ever bless’d.

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

John 12:34–43

The crowd then answered Him, “We have heard out of the Law that the Christ is to remain forever; and how can You say, ‘The Son of Man must be lifted up’? Who is this Son of Man?” 35 So Jesus said to them, “For a little while longer the Light is among you Walk while you have the Light, so that darkness will not overtake you; he who walks in the darkness does not know where he goes. 36 While you have the Light, believe in the Light, so that you may become sons of Light “
   These things Jesus spoke, and He went away and hid Himself from them. 37 But though He had performed so many signs before them, yet they were not believing in Him. 38 This was to fulfill the word of Isaiah the prophet which he spoke: “Lord, who has believed our report? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?” 39 For this reason they could not believe, for Isaiah said again, 40 “He has blinded their eyes and He hardened their heart, so that they would not see with their eyes and perceive with their heart, and be converted and I heal them.” 41 These things Isaiah said because he saw His glory, and he spoke of Him. 42 Nevertheless many even of the rulers believed in Him, but because of the Pharisees they were not confessing Him, for fear that they would be put out of the synagogue; 43 for they loved the approval of men rather than the approval of God.

   We may learn, from these verses, the duty of using present opportunities. The Lord Jesus says to us all, “Yet a little while is the light with you. Walk while ye have the light, lest darkness come upon you. While you have light believe in the light.” Let us not think that these things were only spoken for the sake of the Jews. They were written for us also, upon whom the ends of the world are come.
   The lesson of the words is generally applicable to the whole professing Church of Christ. Its time for doing good in the world is short and limited. The throne of grace will not always be standing: it will be removed one day, and the throne of judgment will be set up in its place. The door of salvation by faith in Christ will not always be open: it will be shut one day forever, and the number of God’s elect will be completed. The fountain for all sin and uncleanness will not always be accessible; the way to it will one day be barred, and there will remain nothing but the lake that burns with fire and brimstone.
   These are solemn thoughts; but they are true. They cry aloud to sleeping Churchmen and drowsy congregations, and ought to arouse great searchings of heart. “Can nothing more be done to spread the Gospel at home and abroad? Has every means been tried for extending the knowledge of Christ crucified? Can we lay our hands on our hearts, and say that the Churches have left nothing undone in the matter of missions? Can we look forward to the Second Advent with no feelings of humiliation, and say that the talents of wealth, and influence, and opportunities have not been buried in the ground?”—Such questions may well humble us, when we look, on one side, at the state of professing Christendom, and, on the other, at the state of the heathen world. We must confess with shame that the Church is not walking worthy of its light.
   But the lesson of the words is specially applicable to ourselves as individuals. Our own time for getting good is short and limited; let us take heed that we make good use of it. Let us “walk while we have the light.” Have we Bibles? Let us not neglect to read them.—Have we the preached Gospel? Let us not linger halting between two opinions, but believe to the saving of our souls.—Have we Sabbaths? Let us not waste them in idleness, carelessness, and indifference, but throw our whole hearts into their sacred employments, and turn them to good account.—Light is about us and around us and near us on every side. Let us each resolve to walk in the light while we have it, lest we find ourselves at length cast out into outer darkness forever. It is a true saying of an old divine, that the recollection of lost and misspent opportunities will be the very essence of hell.
   We may learn, secondly, from these verses, the desperate hardness of the human heart. It is written of our Lord’s hearers at Jerusalem, that, “though he had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed not on Him.”
   We err greatly if we suppose that seeing wonderful miraculous things will ever convert souls. Thousands live and die in this delusion. They fancy if they saw some miraculous sight, or witnessed some supernatural exercise of Divine grace, they would lay aside their doubts, and at once become decided Christians. It is a total mistake. Nothing short of a new heart and a new nature implanted in us by the Holy Ghost, will ever make us real disciples of Christ. Without this, a miracle might raise within us a little temporary excitement; but, the novelty once gone, we would find ourselves just as cold and unbelieving as the Jews.
   The prevalence of unbelief and indifference in the present day ought not to surprise us. It is just one of the evidences of that mighty foundation-doctrine, the total corruption and fall of man. How feebly we grasp and realize that doctrine is proved by our surprise at human incredulity. We only half believe the heart’s deceitfulness. Let us read our Bibles more attentively, and search their contents more carefully. Even when Christ wrought miracles and preached sermons, there were numbers of His hearers who remained utterly unmoved. What right have we to wonder if the hearers of modern sermons in countless instances remain unbelieving? “The disciple is not greater than his Master.” If even the hearers of Christ did not believe, how much more should we expect to find unbelief among the hearers of His ministers! Let the truth be spoken and confessed. Man’s obstinate unbelief is one among many indirect proofs that the Bible is true. The clearest prophecy in Isaiah begins with the solemn question, “Who hath believed?” (Isai. liii. 1.)
   We may learn, thirdly, from these verses, the amazing power which the love of the world has over men. We read that “among the chief rulers many believed on Christ; but because of the Pharisees they did not confess Him, lest they should be put out of the synagogue. For they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God.”
   These unhappy men were evidently convinced that Jesus was the true Messiah. Reason, and intellect, and mind, and conscience, obliged them secretly to admit that no one could do the miracles which He did, unless God was with Him, and that the preacher of Nazareth really was the Christ of God. But they had not courage to confess it. They dared not face the storm of ridicule, if not of persecution, which confession would have entailed. And so, like cowards, they held their peace, and kept their convictions to themselves.
   Their case, it may be feared, is a sadly common one. There are thousands of people who know far more in religion then they act up to. They know they ought to come forward as decided Christians. They know that they are not living up to their light. But the fear of man keeps them back. They are afraid of being laughed at, jeered at, and despised by the world. They dread losing the good opinion of society, and the favourable judgment of men and women like themselves. And so they go on from to year to year, secretly ill at ease and dissatisfied with themselves,—knowing too much of religion to be happy in the world, and clinging too much to the world to enjoy any religion.
   Faith is the only cure for soul ailments like this. A believing view of an unseen God, an unseen Christ, an unseen heaven, and an unseen judgment-day,—this is the grand secret of overcoming the fear of man. The expulsive power of a new principle is required to heal the disease. “This is the victory that overcomes the world, even our faith.” (1 John v. 4.) Let us pray for faith, if we would conquer that deadly enemy of souls, the fear of man and the love of man’s praise. And if we have any faith, let us pray for more. Let our daily cry be, “Lord, increase our faith.” We may easily have too much money, or too much worldly prosperity; but we can never have too much faith.

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

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

In which I seem to be beating a dead horse.

I have two reasons for posting this today.

The first is blog related: something over two years ago, this blog turned a corner. Until then, I hadn’t had a clear purpose. I had begun blogging just because I could, and to see . . . whatever there was to see. All that changed when I decided to make the blog a journal of “what I’m reading now.” You could say it has become a purpose-driven blog, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. Subsequently, I have decided to amputate the back half of the blog and move forward whatever seems worthy (which, from a cursory glance, doesn’t look like much). This seems worth saving.

The second is immediate relevance. Rick Warren may be old hat to most of us, but there are still places previously untouched by his pragmatic philosophy that are just catching up — viz, certain hick communities in rural America that have clung to antiquated notions of the sufficiency of Scripture and preaching. One of my friends who happens to be just that backwards has informed me that his church is slouching towards Saddleback. So the following quote is as relevant now as it was four years ago.

This comes from the comments section of a now-defunct blog. It was written by Jerry Wragg, whom I quote in full and with his permission. It’s rather lengthy, but it really sums up the problems with Warren and PDL quite well, while avoiding the inflammatory rhetoric some of us have not resisted so well.

The issue with Warren is not that he never says anything orthodox, or that reading his book will convince you that he’s some kind of heretic. The problems stem from two critical disciplines:

(1) Warren’s articulation of how God saves . . .
(2) Warren’s continual misuse of scripture to wrestle points from a text that aren’t there . . .

Reading Warren’s books won’t reveal these problems in every chapter, but they clearly emerge upon even a simple reading of some portions.

(1) He articulates that “more people have come to Christ by feeling the presence of God than by all our apologetic arguments combined.” Not only is this an unverifiable assertion, but an unbiblical one. No one is saved by either of the above. Sensory encounters with “God” are subjective and effect nothing salvifically. Apologetical arguments cannot save a sinner anymore than sheer human willpower. And lest you think Warren’s “context” will vindicate such declarations, the chapter where the above quote is found is about creating an environment where the “emotional barriers” of the unchurched can be removed by carefully crafting the progression of the worship service’s music and sermon to achieve that end. Clearly, Warren’s point is that preaching scripture and exhorting the will does not help in breaking down the emotional barriers which keep people from having a conversion encounter with the living God. The implications of such teaching are inescapable. He believes that sinners are converted by having an emotionally dramatic encounter with “God”, and it is the church’s role to fashion an environment that facilitates such an experience. Whatever he may say about believing in Jesus, or putting one’s faith in Christ, is undermined, indeed nullified, by manipulating people into subjective “feelings” or “thoughts” about themselves and God. Only the scriptures can bring the necessary clarity for man to see himself as he truly is, and for understanding his need before a holy and awesome God (Hebrews 4:12). What if someone’s “emotional barrier” is the absolute truth of scripture itself (see Romans 1:18f)? How do I remove it without eliminating their only possible path to God? In fact, this is Paul’s point in 1 Corinthians 1:22-25, where the very truths that unbelievers resist (Warren’s “barriers”) are those over which they must “stumble” in order to be saved! No one should pretend to “remove” the barriers between people and God. Only God can remove the barriers, and He does it via the Spirit’s convicting work in the hearts of sinners as they are drawn to Him in mercy and grace. If all we do is remove alleged emotional barriers by crafting worship services to make people “feel” close to God, we haven’t done anything truly spiritual at all. Only God can save, and He commands us to proclaim His holy justice against sin, His love and mercy toward sinners, and His redemption accomplished in His Son, Jesus Christ. I’ve been to Warren’s church and heard him speak. It was certainly a demonstration of the philosophy he espouses.

(2) Rick Warren has a very well documented habit of using only selective portions of passages and verses to teach his principles for Christian living. He has even boasted of his use of multiple “versions” in order to bring clarity to his sermons. What pretends to be a heart for clarity is soon discovered as nothing more than shoddy workmanship and poor exegesis.

Some examples will make the point:

a) His gross misuse of Luke 4:14-30. Mr. Warren used this text during an interview in Preaching magazine to illustrate how Jesus’ preaching always ministered first to the hurting, downtrodden, impoverished, and captive of society. In the interview, Warren claims to have patterned his own preaching, not after conventional methods from a book, but after the approach Jesus used in Luke 4. Unfortunately, Warren fails to mention what the actual context of the passage indicates, namely, that Jesus was announcing Himself as the Messiah who brings salvation to those who acknowledge their spiritual condition as being “poor”, “blind”, “downtrodden”, and “captive”. Amazingly, Warren goes on in the interview to say that preachers who follow Jesus’ method are sure to attract and sustain large crowds just as He did. Never mind that shortly after giving the sermon in Luke 4, Jesus was abruptly silenced by His congregation and almost thrown off a cliff!

To mold this passage into a primer on preaching palatable messages designed to “touch” hurting people is shocking naivete at best, or shameful, pragmatic manipulation of the truth at worst.

b) Warren uses the KJV translation of Proverbs 29:18 in an attempt to prove his statement that “To accomplish anything you must first have a mission, a goal, a hope, a vision.” Looking at the original language, the verse more literally says “Where there is no prophetic vision the people cast off restraint” (ESV, et.al.). Warren can often be found using one verse that gives an impression in English which fits what he wants to say even as other translations render the verse more literally. Doing this enough times leaves people with the notion that they can pick and choose whatever “paraphrase” or English version suits their fancy as they study the Bible. This may “preach” well, but it dishonors God’s intended meaning and leads congregations into dangerous waters without clarity.

c) Chapter 10 of Warren’s book speaks of the blessing of surrendering to God. Using Job 22:21 to support his premise, Warren interprets the verse as saying “Stop quarreling with God. If you agree with him, you will have peace at last, and things will go well for you.” In total disregard for context, he teaches a generic principle from the words of one of Job’s deplorable counselors, Eliphaz. These words were the result of a false view of God’s justice and its relationship to human tragedy, and were later condemned.

d) Mr. Warren often applies passages universally without reference to the specific ancient context (a common error in poor Bible teaching). His use of Isaiah 44:2, again, corroborates this tendency. When God says, “I am your Creator. You were in my care even before you were born,” Warren applies the words directly to all believers as a specific universal promise. By avoiding the second half of the verse, he can manipulate the meaning rather than unfold to whom the promise was exclusively made (Israel). Every serious Bible student knows that all scripture has implications for all believers, but to treat every text as if it is speaking the same command, principle, or truth to us today in the same way is disastrous.

Just because one can read Warren’s books and not see glaring error on every page does not warrant offering him a hardy endorsement either. Some have counted at least fifty similar examples of Warren’s eisegesis. A medical doctor with a history of even ten examples of gross negligence in the proficiency of his discipline is cause for revocation of his/her practice. Shouldn’t we expect much more from a man of such influence who claims to speak for God?

Anyway, thanks for taking the time to consider my thoughts. I’m not against the man personally, just deeply concerned for the purity of Christian doctrine and the power of God’s truth in evangelism.

Summarizing the difference between the biblical doctrine of justification by faith alone and the Roman doctrine of justification by faith plus merit, R. C. Sproul writes:

[T]he Roman view of justification starts with baptism. The benefits that accrue from baptism can be lost by committing mortal sin, but they can be recovered by penance. The regained justification lasts until another mortal son is committed, and the cycle repeats. According to the Roman view, a believer’s destiny is determined by the purity of his heart at the time of death. Even if the believer does not die in a state of impenitent mortal son, there may be impurities on the soul, necessitating purgatory until the impurities are cleansed.
   All of this is presented in the most recent Roman Catholic catechism. It states that if a believer has any impurities on his or her soul at the time of death, the believer will go to purgatory the soul of the believer may be in purgatory for only a week of he or she is near to sainthood, but more likely the believer will remain there for several hundred years, perhaps ever two million, three million, or four million years—until, in that place of purging, the believer is so cleansed from impurities that finally, when God looks at him or her, he sees an inherent righteousness.
   Is that good news? It is actually the worst possible news we can hear. If someone told me that the only way I could get into the kingdom of heaven and be adopted into the family of God is to get rid of all impurities in my soul, I would despair. So let me tell you what the good news is. I despair of my righteousness; I acknowledge my sin. I put my trust in Christ and Christ alone. And the good news is that at the very instant I do, all that Jesus is, and all that Jesus has, is mine, and for the rest of my days he has me covered. The Father looks beyond my impurities and all my sin, and he sees the cloak of righteousness of Jesus. For that reason, I am justified not for today, not for this week, not until I commit another sin, but for eternity. Is there any better news than that in the whole world?

—R. C. Sproul, Preaching the Cross (Crossway, 2007), 100–101.

Preaching the Cross is a collection of messages from the 2006 Together for the Gospel Conference. You can download the entire message from which today’s quote was taken here.

The following excerpt from Preaching the Cross is addressed to pastors. Most of us are not pastors, so we may tend to read, nod our heads, and think, “Yes, that’s how they should do it.” However, I want us to replace the words “preacher” and “pastor” with our own names or personal pronouns, and “preaching” with our own witness or testimony. How do we present Christ to the world? Is there a weight to our witness? Do we provoke serious thought about the majesty of God, the heinous nature of sin, and the grave consequences for sinners? Or are we just talking cartoon vegetables?

   God did not ordain the cross of Christ or create the lake of fire in order to communicate the significance of belittling his glory. The death of the Son of God and the damnation of unrepentant human beings are the loudest shouts under heaven that God is infinitely holy, and sin is infinitely offensive, and wrath is infinitely just, and grace is infinitely precious, and our brief life—and the life of every person in your church and in your community—leads to everlasting joy or everlasting suffering. If our preaching does not carry the weight of these things to our people, what will? Veggie Tales? . . .
   God planned for his Son to be crucified (Rev. 13:8; 2 Tim. 1:9) and for hell to be terrible (Matt. 25:41) so that we would have the clearest witnesses possible to what is at stake when we preach. What gives preaching its seriousness is that the mantle of the preacher is soaked with the blood of Jesus and singed with the fire of hell. That’s the mantle that turns mere talkers into preachers. Yet tragically some of the most prominent evangelical voices today diminish the horror of the cross and the horror of hell—the one stripped of its power to bear our punishment, and the other demythologized into self-dehumanization and the social miseries of this world.
   Oh, that the rising generations would see that the world is not overrun with a sense of seriousness about God. There is no surplus in the church of a sense of God’s glory; there is no excess of earnestness in the church about heaven and hell and sin and salvation, and, therefore, the joy of many Christians is paper thin. By the millions, people are amusing themselves to death with DVDs and 107-inch TV screens and games on their cell phones, and slapstick worship . . .
   And yet incomprehensibly, in this Christ-diminishing, soul-destroying age, books and seminars and divinity schools and church growth specialists are bent on saying to young pastors, “lighten up,” “get funny,” and “do something amusing.” To this I ask, where is the spirit if Jesus? “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it” (Matt. 16:24-25). “If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell” (Matt. 5:29). “Any one of you who does not renounce all that he had cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:33). “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26). “Follow me, and leave the dead to bury their own dead” (Matt. 8:22). “Whoever would be first among you must be slave of all” (Mark 10:44). “Fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matt 10:28). “Some of you they will put to death. . . . But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your lives” (Luke 21:16-19).
   Would the church growth counsel to Jesus be, “Lighten up, Jesus. Do something amusing,” and to the young pastor, “Whatever you do, young pastor, don’t be like the Jesus of the Gospels. Lighten up”? From my perspective, which feels very close to eternity these days, that message to pastors sounds increasingly insane.

—John Piper, Preaching the Cross (Crossway, 2007), 105–108.

Preaching the Cross is a collection of messages from the 2006 Together for the Gospel Conference. You can download the entire message from which today’s quote was taken here.

Continuing through the 2006 Together for the Gospel messages (as compiled in Preaching the Cross), we come to a message of extreme importance from C. J. Mahaney: Watch Your Life and Doctrine. Citing 1 Timothy 4:16, Mahaney reiterates the importance of sound doctrine. Then he moves into the other half of the message with words of warning. This warning, though aimed at pastors, is surely applicable to us all.

[W]e can often forget that a knowledge of Scripture alone is not sufficient. Of course, James won’t let us forget that we must “Be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves” (James 1:22). This verse tells us that apart from obedience, knowledge can be deceptive. This puts an interesting twist on some of the favorite activities of good evangelical pastors: attending ministerial conferences, listening to sermons, and reading doctrinally sound books. All such activities afford us the opportunity for serious progress in personal godliness and ministry effectiveness. Yet each one can also be an instrument of progressive self-deception.

. . . please understand: according to James, of you consume truth without applying truth, you risk the false and dangerous impression that spiritual growth was achieved without application. But it never is—never. We must be ever wary of the self-deception of which James speaks. Let’s recognize limitations of sound doctrine, and make the practice of truth a daily priority. Never stop watching your life.

—C. J. Mahaney, Preaching the Cross (Crossway, 2007), 120–121.

Preaching the Cross is a collection of messages from the 2006 Together for the Gospel Conference. You can download the entire message from which today’s quote was taken here.

From John MacArthur’s 2006 Together for the Gospel message:

   Expository preaching that is theological is not easy. The stringent discipline required to interpret Scripture accurately is a constant burden, and the message we are required to proclaim is often offensive. Christ himself is a stone of stumbling and a rock of offense (Rom. 9:33; 1 Pet. 2:8). The message of the cross is a stumbling block to some (1 Cor. 1:23; Gal. 5:11) and mere foolishness to others (1 Cor. 1:23).
   But we are never permitted to trim the message or to tailor it to people’s preferences. Paul made this clear to Timothy at the end of chapter 3: “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness” (2 Tim. 3:16). This is the Word to be preached: the whole counsel of God (cf. Acts 20:27).
   In chapter 1 Paul had told Timothy, “Retain the standard of sound words which you have heard from me” (v. 13). He was speaking of the revealed words of Scripture—all of it. He urged Timothy to “Guard . .  the treasure which has been entrusted to you” (v. 14). Then in chapter 2 he told him to study the Word and handle it accurately (v. 15). He then brings the epistle to its summit by urging him to proclaim God’s Word no matter what. So the entire task of the faithful minister revolves around the Word of God—guarding it, studing it, and proclaiming it.

—John MacArthur, Preaching the Cross (Crossway, 2007), 142.

The applications for us are multiple. The most obvious concerns how we should handle Scripture in our own study and witness. Less obvious, but more immediate and on point, concerns how we should receive the Word delivered to us by the shepherds of our churches.

Our pastors are called to work hard, diligently and faithfully studying, interpreting, explaining, and applying the Word for us. If they faithfully fulfill their calling, delivering the Word to us week after week, should we not also work hard to receive, understand, and apply it in our own lives?

Preaching the Cross is a collection of messages from the 2006 Together for the Gospel Conference. You can download the entire message from which today’s quote was taken here.

Today’s hymn is an adaptation of the fourth century Latin Te Deum Laudamus, translated as Thee, God, We Praise, Thy Name We Bless (No. 16) and traditionally sung to Old Hundredth. I am especially fond of this adaptation, as its tune, Finlandia, is adapted from my favorite composition of my favorite Romantic period composer, Jean Sibelius.

I don’t think I have ever sung this in a worship service; I remember it chiefly from winter evenings in the dorm, when a couple-few of us would take out the Concordia and sing hymns.

12 Thee, God, We Praise, Thy Holy Name We Bless

Thee, God, we praise, Thy holy name we bless,
Thee, Lord, of all, we humbly do confess.
The whole creation ever worships Thee,
The Father of eternity.
The whole creation ever worships Thee,
The Father of eternity.

O Thou most holy, holy, holy Lord,
Thou, God of hosts, by all, by all adored,
Earth and the heav’ns are ever full of Thee,
Thy light, thy pow’r, Thy majesty.
The earth and heav’ns are ever full of Thee,
Thy light, thy pow’r, Thy majesty.

—The Concordia Hymnal (Augsburg Publishing House), 1960.

Concordia also includes the Old Hundredth-tuned Thee, God, We Praise, Thy Name We Bless with six verses. You can read them and seven more at the link included in the first paragraph.

My favorite Finlandia-tuned hymn is Be Still My Soul. I was surprised to discover it’s not in the Concordia. I found the words to five stanzas at the previous link, and even though it’s not in the hymnal of choice for this series, it must be included. Of these stanzas, I am only familiar with 1, 2, and 4.

Be Still My Soul

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heav’nly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul: thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hast’ning on
When we shall be forever with the Lord.
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Be still, my soul: begin the song of praise
On earth, believing, to Thy Lord on high;
Acknowledge Him in all thy words and ways,
So shall He view thee with a well-pleased eye.
Be still, my soul: the Sun of life divine
Through passing clouds shall but more brightly shine.

Finlandia
Organ

Acoustic guitar


Finlandia, symphony by Jean Sibelius
Orchestra

Piano

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

Hymn XXX.
Is this thy kindness to thy friend. II. Samuel xvi. 17.
John Newton (1725–1807)

Poor, weak, and worthless tho’ I am,
I have a rich almighty friend;
Jesus, the Saviour, is his name,
He freely loves, and without end.

He ransom’d me from hell with blood,
And by his pow’r my foes controll’d;
He found me, wand’ring far from God,
And brought me to his chosen fold.

He cheers my heart, my wants supplies,
And says that I shall shortly be
Enthron’d with him above the skies,
O! what a friend is Christ to me.

But ah! I my inmost spirit mourns,
And well my eyes with tears may swim,
To think of my perverse returns;
I’ve been a faithless friend to him.

Often my gracious Friend I grieve,
Neglect, distrust, and disobey,
And often Satan’s lies believe,
Sooner than all my Friend can say.

He bids me always freely come,
And promises whate’er I ask:
But I am straitened, cold and dumb,
And count my privilege a task.

Before the world that hates his course,
My treach’rous heart has throbb’d with shame;
Loth to forego the worlds applause,
I hardly dare avow his name.

Sure were not I most vile and base,
I could not thus my friend requite!
And were not he the God of grace,
He’d frown and spurn me from his sight.

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

John 12:44–50

And Jesus cried out and said, “He who believes in Me, does not believe in Me but in Him who sent Me. 45 He who sees Me sees the One who sent Me. 46 I have come as Light into the world, so that everyone who believes in Me will not remain in darkness. 47 If anyone hears My sayings and does not keep them, I do not judge him; for I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world. 48 He who rejects Me and does not receive My sayings, has one who judges him; the word I spoke is what will judge him at the last day. 49 For I did not speak on My own initiative, but the Father Himself who sent Me has given Me a commandment as to what to say and what to speak. 50 I know that His commandment is eternal life; therefore the things I speak, I speak just as the Father has told Me.”

   These verses throw light on two subjects which we can never understand too well. Our daily peace and our practice of daily watchfulness over ourselves are closely connected with a clear knowledge of these two subjects.
   One thing shown in these verses is, the dignity of our Lord Jesus Christ. We find Him saying, “He that seeth Me, seeth Him that sent Me. I am come a Light into the world, that whosoever believeth on Me should not abide in darkness.” Christ’s oneness with the Father, and Christ’s office, are clearly exhibited in these words.
   Concerning the unity of the Father and the Son, we must be content to believe reverently what we cannot grasp mentally or explain distinctly. Let it suffice us to know that our Saviour was not like the prophets and patriarchs, a man sent by God the Father, a friend of God, and a witness for God. He was something far higher and greater than this. He was in His Divine nature essentially one with the Father: and in seeing Him, men saw the Father who sent Him. This is a great mystery; but a truth of vast importance to our souls. He that casts His sins on Jesus Christ by faith is building on a rock. Believing on Christ, he believes not merely on Him, but on Him that sent Him.
   Concerning the office of Christ, there can be little doubt that in this place He compares Himself to the sun. Like the sun, He has risen on this sin-darkened world with healing on His wings, and shines for the common benefit of all mankind. Like the sun, He is the great source and center of all spiritual life, comfort, and fertility. Like the sun, He illuminates the whole earth, and no one need miss the way to heaven, if he will only use the light offered for his acceptance.
   Forever let us make much of Christ in all our religion. We can never trust Him too much, follow Him too closely, or commune with Him too unreservedly. He has all power in heaven and earth. He is able to save to the uttermost all who come to God by Him. None can pluck us out of the hand of Him who is one with the Father. He can make all our way to heaven bright and plain and cheerful; like the morning sun cheering the traveler. Looking unto Him, we shall find light in our understandings, see light on the path of life we have to travel, feel light in our hearts, and find the days of darkness, which will come sometimes, stripped of half their gloom. Only let us abide in Him, and look to Him with a single eye. There is a mine of meaning in His words, “If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.” (Matt. vi. 22.)
   Another thing shown in these verses is, the certainty of a judgment to come. We find our Lord saying, “He that rejecteth Me, and receiveth not my words, has One that judgeth him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day.”
   There is a last day! The world shall not always go on as it does now. Buying and selling, sowing and reaping, planting and building, marrying and giving in marriage,—all this shall come to an end at last. There is a time appointed by the Father when the whole machinery of creation shall stop, and the present dispensation shall be changed for another. It had a beginning, and it shall also have an end. Banks shall at length close their doors forever. Stock exchanges shall be shut. Parliaments shall be dissolved. The very sun, which since Noah’s flood has done his daily work so faithfully, shall rise and set no more. Well would it be if we thought more of this day! Pay-days, birth-days, wedding-days, are often regarded as days of absorbing interest; but they are nothing compared to the last day.
   There is a judgment coming! Men have their reckoning days, and God will at last have His. The trumpet shall sound. The dead shall be raised incorruptible. The living shall be changed. All, of every name and nation, and people and tongue, shall stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. The books shall be opened, and the evidence brought forth. Our true character will come out before the world. There will be no concealment, no evasion, no false colouring. Every one shall give account of himself to God, and all shall be judged according to their works. The wicked shall go away into everlasting fire, and the righteous into life eternal.
   These are awful truths! But they are truths, and ought to be told. No wonder that the Roman governor Felix trembled when Paul the prisoner discoursed about “righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come.” (Acts xxiv. 25.) Yet the believer in the Lord Jesus Christ has no cause to be afraid. For him, at any rate, there is no condemnation, and the last assize need have no terrors. The bias of his life shall witness for him; while the shortcomings of his life shall not condemn him. It is the man who rejects Christ, and will not hear His call to repentance,—he is the man who in the judgment-day will have reason to be cast down and afraid.
   Let the thought of judgment to come have a practical effect on our religion. Let us daily judge ourselves with righteous judgment, that we may not be judged and condemned of the Lord. Let us so speak and so act as men who will be judged by the law of liberty. Let us make conscience of all our hourly conduct, and never forget that for every idle word we must give account at the last day. In a word, let us live like those who believe in the truth of judgment, heaven, and hell. So living, we shall be Christians indeed and in truth, and have boldness in the day of Christ’s appearing.
   Let the judgment-day be the Christian’s answer and apology when men ridicule him as too strict, too precise, and too particular in his religion. Irreligion may do tolerably well for a season, so long as a man is in health and prosperous, and looks at nothing but this world. But he who believes that he must give account to the Judge of quick and dead, at His appearing and kingdom, will never be content with an ungodly life. He will say, “There is a judgment. I can never serve God too much. Christ died for me. I can never do too much for Him.”

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

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

Several years ago, when we were looking for a church to attend, an acquaintance questioned our consideration of one local congregation by informing us that they had spoken disparagingly of Billy Graham. The point we were supposed to get was that, having criticized Billy Graham, they had no credibility. To this person, Graham was an untouchable. To examine his doctrine and methods critically was to question the unquestionable. I’ve encountered similar attitudes, among Roman Catholics and Protestants alike, towards investigations into the myth of “Mother” Teresa. Some of you are shocked even now at my use of the word “myth.” Suppose I had the temerity to say I believe that James Dobson has done more harm than good to the evangelical church? Would you want to know why, or would you automatically write me off as a crank for touching an untouchable? What if I said that the Wesleys’ ministries were such a mess of contradictions that I really wish they had not gained prominence in church history?

None of the names I’ve mentioned are the point of this post, so I don’t want to hear whatever you’re thinking about them in particular. Remove them, and fill in any names you’d like. The point, which you’ve likely already ascertained, is this: Are any so sacrosanct that you are unwilling to hold them up for examination under the light of truth? If so, please abandon any pretense of intellectual integrity or spiritual fidelity. You’ve made idols of men. Repent.

Anyone worthy of your admiration can withstand scrutiny. Investigation will vindicate them. Discussion of their flaws will yield fruit as well, helping you to grow away from idols and toward objectivity. You’ll learn to appreciate the individuals in question as flawed conduits, rather than sources, of grace. Some of your heroes may be mythical. They may not be what you’ve thought them to be. You may find that their characters are eminently reproachable, or that their doctrines and methods are unbiblical. Discovery can be painful, but don’t you love the truth and its author more than these?

Today, I test the results of yesterday’s post.

I am too young to have known of the decline of Billy Graham as it happened. I have always been under the impression that his slide into ecumenism and theological liberalism began fairly late in life. Reading Evangelicalism Divided by Iain Murray, I am learning a different story. By the time Graham gained prominence on the word stage, his journey of compromise was already well underway. And while his descent into heterodoxy can be described as a slide, his embrace of ecumenism can only be called an enthusiastic leap — with a decidedly pragmatic motivation.

Murray writes of a time in 1965 when Graham was seeking support for his crusade in London from Anglican Archbishop Michael Ramsey, who

did not hold all Scripture to be the authoritative Word of God, nor did he believe in such doctrines as the penal, substitutionary atonement. . . .
   At first Ramsey opposed Grahams beliefs as heretical but he seems to have been charmed by the American’s amicableness when the two met at the New Delhi Third Assembly of the World Council od Churches. The evangelist has recorded how their friendship began on that occasion when he asked the archbishop, ‘Do we have to part company because we disagree in methods and theology? Isn’t that the purpose of the ecumenical movement, to bring together people of opposing views?’ Thereafter there was no more opposition.

—Iain Murray, Evangelicalism Divided (Banner of Truth, 2000), 40–41.

When criticizing an evangelical idol like Billy Graham, one is often challenged with the claim that, as so much good is done, faults should be overlooked. Setting aside the seriousness of the faults in question, and the corresponding impossibility of letting them slide, we need to ask, has so much good really been done? Are these methods which we deplore really producing as advertised?

The record says, “No.”

In 1968 the Evangelical Alliance, BGEA’s first sponsor in Britain, published a report on evangelism that included a survey of eighty-five churches which had participated in Graham’s shorter London crusades of 1966–67. Its authors (a large committee) concluded:

On mass evangelism generally, the recurring theme was that the crusade did not make a lasting effect on the complete outsider. Even when they went, they either made no response, or made no lasting response . . . Church members, whether they went forward or not, found blessing and encouragement from the services, but the complete outsider tended to go back outside again. in the words of one comment, ‘If they asked, “What shall we do?” they seem to have been given little answer beyond “to decide for Christ” . . . On inquiry they were unable to give any real answer as to what this meant, other than they desired to live a better life.

—Iain Murray, Evangelicalism Divided (Banner of Truth, 2000), 56–57.

Now, let’s go back a century and a half and examine the record of one of Graham’s most famous predecessors. Charles Finney preceded Graham in implementing results-oriented methods. Finney claimed that the right use of the right means was guaranteed to produce conversions, and there is no denying that his methods produced massive results. But what results? In Revival and Revivalism, Iain Murray reported that

. . . the permanent results were considerably fewer than had initially been claimed. In the course of time, Finney himself admitted this. Joseph Ives Foot, a Presbyterian minister, wrote in 1838: ‘During ten years, hundreds, perhaps thousands, were annually reported to be converted on all hands; but now it is easily admitted, that his [Finney’s] real converts are comparatively few. It is declared even by himself, that “the great body of them are a disgrace to religion”.’

—Iain Murray, Revival and Revivalism (Banner of Truth, 1994), 288–289.

Evangelical icon worshippers — those who have not already skedaddled, that is — will be relieved to know that this will probably be my last mention of Billy Graham for the present time.

Compromise with people of all theologies was a common thread running through Billy Graham’s ministry. In the effort to garner support for his evangelistic crusades, it seems there was no heresy he was not willing to let slide. As time passed, it was not merely his associations that were unorthodox; as the following account* of his embrace of inclusivism will demonstrate, his thinking was altered as well.

   Achieving common ground with the Roman Catholicism is one of the things for which Mark Noll commends Graham. But agreement with non-evangelicals has gone still further. In 1978 McCall’s magazine quoted Graham as having said, ‘I used to believe that pagans in far countries were lost if they did not have the gospel of Christ preached to them. I no longer believe that.’ That statement alarmed supporters BGEA and Christianity Today was quick to claim that the evangelist had been misquoted. Subsequent disclosures would appear to show that it was Graham’s paper rather than McCall’s which was inaccurate, for a Graham interview with Dr Robert Schuller on 31 May 1997 put the matter beyond doubt. Schuller has attained fame as the promoter of a liberal ‘self-esteem’ gospel which he preaches in his Crystal Cathedral in California. In the course of his discussion with Graham, conducted by means of a television link-up, Schuller asked for the evangelist’s view on the future of Christianity. Graham answered by giving his belief about the final make-up of the body of Christ. That body would be made up, he affirmed,

from all the Christian groups around the world, outside the Christian groups. I think that everybody that loves or knows Christ, whether they are conscious of it or not, they are members of the body of Christ. And I don’t think that we are going to see a great sweeping revival that will turn the whole world to Christ at one time. I think James answered that — the Apostle James in the first Council in Jerusalem — when he said that God’s purpose for this age is to call out a people for his name. And that is what he is doing today. He is calling people out of the world for his name, whether they come from the Muslim world, or the Buddhist world or the non-believing world, they are members of the Body of Christ because they have been called by God. They may not know the name of Jesus but they know in their hearts that they need something they do not have, and they turn to the only light they have, and I think that they are saved and they are going to be with us in heaven.

   Surprised by this, Schuller was anxious for clarification: ‘What, what I hear you saying, that it’s possible for Jesus Christ to come into human hearts and soul and life, even if they have been born in darkness and have never had exposure to the Bible. Is that a correct interpretation of what you are saying?’
   ‘Yes, it is’, Graham responded in decided tones. At which point, his television host tripped over his words in his excitement, and exclaimed, ‘I’m so thrilled to hear you say this: “There’s a wideness in God’s mercy”.’ To which Graham added, ‘There is. There definitely is.’

—Iain Murray, Evangelicalism Divided (Banner of Truth, 2000), 73–74.

* Those who doubt the veracity of this account can easily find video of the Graham-Schuller exchange on YouTube.

Today’s hymn, like last week’s, is another that I don’t believe I have ever sung in a worship service. I suspect the tune, Integer Vitae, was judged to ponderous for congregational singing. If so, I would disagree strenuously. I think I learned this hymn when I sang it with a Bible camp choir one summer. It is a beautiful song of Trinitarian praise, and one that certainly ought to be sung for Lord’s Day worship.

17 Praise Ye the Father

Praise ye the Father for His lovingkindness;
Tenderly cares He for His erring children;
Praise Him, ye angels, praise Him in the heavens,
Praise ye Jehovah.

Praise ye the Savior, great is His compassion;
Graciously cares He for His chosen people;
Young men and maidens, ye old men and children,
Praise ye the Savior.

Praise ye the Spirit, Comforter of Israel,
Sent of the Father and the Son to bless us,
Praise ye the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
Praise ye the Triune God.

—The Concordia Hymnal (Augsburg Publishing House), 1960.

The following video may not be of the highest professional quality, but it appeals to me for two reasons: the small church setting is exactly as I would have experienced it, and the harmonica accompaniment is something I’ve never seen in any church before. I like it.

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

Petitionary Hymns
Poem XXV. [Before Meat.] 1 Cor. x. 31.
Augustus Toplady (1740–1778)

Lord, we invite thee here,
   Vouchsafe to be our guest,
Jesus, do thou appear
   The Master of the feast;
Thy quick’ning presence let us prove,
And banquet on thy hidden love.

With manna from on high
   Feed thine inheritance,
And come and sanctify
   Our outward sustenance:
With it the inward food be giv’n,
The bread of life, the wine of heav’n.

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

The Gospel According to John

13 Now before the Feast of the Passover, Jesus knowing that His hour had come that He would depart out of this world to the Father, having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end. 2 During supper, the devil having already put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon, to betray Him, 3 Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come forth from God and was going back to God, 4 got up from supper, and laid aside His garments; and taking a towel, He girded Himself. 5 Then He poured water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel with which He was girded.

   The passage we have now read begins one of the most interesting portions of St. John’s Gospel. For five consecutive chapters we find the Evangelist recording matters which are not mentioned by Matthew, Mark, and Luke. We can never be thankful enough that the Holy Ghost has caused them to be written for our learning! In every age the contents of these chapters have been justly regarded as one of the most precious parts of the Bible. They have been the food and drink, the strength and comfort of all true-hearted Christians. Let us ever approach them with peculiar reverence. The place whereon we stand is holy ground.
   We learn, for one thing, from these verses, what patient and continuing love there is in Christ’s heart towards His people. It is written that “having loved His own which were in the world, He loved them unto the end.” Knowing perfectly well that they were about to forsake Him shamefully in a very few hours, in full view of their approaching display of weakness and infirmity, our blessed Master did not cease to have loving thoughts of His disciples. He was not weary of them: He loved them to the last.
   The love of Christ to sinners is the very essence and marrow of the Gospel. That He should love us at all, and care for our souls,—that He should love us before we love Him, or even know anything about Him,—that He should love us so much as to come into the world to save us, take our nature on Him, bear our sins, and die for us on the cross,—all this is wonderful indeed! It is a kind of love to which there is nothing like it, among men. The narrow selfishness of human nature cannot fully comprehend it. It is one of those things which even the angels of God “desire to look into.” It is a truth which Christian preachers and teachers should proclaim incessantly, and never be weary of proclaiming.
   But the love of Christ to saints is no less wonderful, in its way, than His love to sinners, though far less considered. That He should bear with all their countless infirmities from grace to glory,—that He should never be tired of their endless inconsistencies and petty provocations,—that He should go on forgiving and forgetting incessantly, and never be provoked to cast them off and give them up,—all this is marvellous indeed! No mother watching over the waywardness of her feeble babe, in the days of its infancy, has her patience so thoroughly tried, as the patience of Christ is tried by Christians. Yet His patience is infinite. His compassions are a well that is never exhausted. His love is “a love that passeth knowledge.”
   Let no man be afraid of beginning with Christ, if he desires to be saved. The chief of sinners may come to Him with boldness, and trust Him for pardon with confidence. This loving Saviour is One who delights to “receive sinners.” (Luke xv. 2.) Let no man be afraid of going on with Christ after he has once come to Him and believed. Let him not fancy that Christ will cast him off because of failures, and dismiss him into his former hopelessness on account of infirmities. Such thoughts are entirely unwarranted by anything in the Scriptures. Jesus will never reject any servant because of feeble service and weak performance. Those whom He receives He always keeps. Those whom He loves at first He loves at last. His promise shall never be broken, and it is for saints as well as sinners: “Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out.” (John vi. 37.)
   We learn, for another thing, from these verses, what deep corruption may sometimes be found in the heart of a great professor of religion. It is written that “the devil put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray Christ.”
   This Judas, we must always remember, was one of the twelve Apostles. He had been chosen by Christ Himself, at the same time with Peter, James, John, and their companions. For three years he had walked in Christ’s society, had seen His miracles, had heard His preaching, had experienced many proofs of His loving-kindness. He had even preached himself and wrought miracles in Christ’s name; and when our Lord sent out His disciples two and two, Judas Iscariot no doubt must have been one of some couple that was sent. Yet here we see this very man possessed by the devil, and rushing headlong to destruction.
   On all the coasts of England there is not such a beacon to warn sailors of danger as Judas Iscariot is to warn Christians. He shows us what length a man may go in religious profession, and yet turn out a rotten hypocrite at last, and prove never to have been converted. He shows us the uselessness of the highest privileges, unless we have a heart to value them and turn them to good account. Privileges alone without grace save nobody, and will only make hell deeper. He shows us the uselessness of mere head-knowledge. To know things with our brains, and be able to talk and preach and speak to others, is no proof that our own feet are in the way of peace. These are terrible lessons: but they are true.
   Let us never be surprised if we see hypocrisy and false profession among Christians in modern days. There is nothing new in it, nothing peculiar, nothing that did not happen even among Christ’s own immediate followers, and under Christ’s own eyes. Bad money is a strong proof that there is good coin somewhere. Hypocrisy is a strong indirect evidence that there is such a thing as true religion.
   Above all, let us pray daily that our own Christianity may at any rate be genuine, sincere, real and true. Our faith may be feeble, our hope dim, our knowledge small, our failures frequent, our faults many. But at all events let us be real and true. Let us be able to say with poor, weak, erring Peter, “Thou, Lord, who knowest all things, knowest that I love Thee.” (John xxi. 17.)

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

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

In which I share an excerpt from my newest joke book.

You may be surprised, as I was, to learn that there is such a thing as The Catholic Study Bible. Roman Catholic history makes the idea of Catholics actually studying the Bible (or even reading it) seem fantastic. I myself have only known one Catholic who read the Bible at all — and I have made an effort to find this out about my Catholic acquaintances. Nevertheless, such a thing exists, and happens to be lying in front of me at this very moment, open to Mark 6:3. This is the passage the notes of which every New Testament reference to Jesus’ brothers and sisters is referred.

As you likely know, Roman Catholic dogma claims that Mary, the mother of Jesus, remains perpetually virgin. There is, of course, no biblical suggestion that that is so, yet it is a doctrine believed de fide, or as an essential doctrine denial of which is heresy. Therefore, whenever Scripture refers to the brothers of Jesus, it must mean something else, because . . . well, because if it doesn’t, then Rome is wrong, and that is simply inconceivable.

So they explain:

The brother of James . . . Simon: in Semitic usage, the terms ‘brother, ‘sister’ are applied not only to children of the same parents, but to nephews, nieces, cousins, half-brothers, half-sisters; cf Gn 14, 16; 29, 15; Lv 10, 4. While one cannot suppose that the meaning of a Greek word should be sought in the first place from Semitic usage, the Septuagint often translates the Hebrew ’āh by the Greek word adelphos, “brother,” as in the cited passages, a fact that may argue for a similar breadth of the meaning in some New Testament passages. For instance, there is no doubt that in v 17, “brother” is used of Philip, who was actually the half-brother of Herod Antipas. On the other hand, Mark may have understood the terms literally; see also Mt 3, 31–32;12, 46; 13, 55–56; Lk 8, 19; Jn 7, 3,5. The question of meaning here would not have arisen but for the faith of the church in Mary’s perpetual virginity.

—The Catholic Study Bible (Oxford University Press, 2006), 1326.

The note is, on the one hand, disappointing. I really expected a much higher level of sophistry from these great Papist scholars. On the other hand, I get a good chuckle out of the brazen admission that they really don’t have a leg to stand on, and must perform linguistic tricks just to say the word might, given the right screenwriter and director, believably be cast as something other than itself. Quite humorous is their insinuation that we should utter in hushed tones, “Ooh, nuance!” at the revelation that half-brothers have been referred to simply as brothers. Oh, such broad semantic range!

The cherry on the sundae is the editors’ final bare-faced admission that, if Rome hadn’t put them on the spot, they never would have thought to impose anything but the plain meaning on the text.

• Related silliness.

Last week, when I wrote about the need to be willing to objectively examine those whom we have admired, I had no problem following that with a few excerpts from Iain Murray’s Evangelicalism Divided on Billy Graham. I have always been in almost total disagreement with Graham’s theology and methods, and extremely dubious of their alleged results.

The experience changes considerably when the spotlight is turned toward those whose work I have appreciated. In that same volume, Murray turns his attention toward evangelicals within the Anglican church, most notably, J. I. Packer and John Stott, and how they, Packer in particular, incrementally sold their evangelical birthright for a mess of unity-pottage. The story is exceedingly disheartening and difficult to summarize in a short space.

The struggle during the 1960s and ’70s within the Church of England was between evangelicals and liberal anglo-catholics. In the beginning, evangelicals wanted to insist that the relatively evangelical Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion (the church’s official statement of faith) define who was an Anglican. The anglo-catholics wanted to accept anyone, regardless of profession, who was baptized into the church.

As unity was pursued, compromise led to compromise, until those who had held the evangelical position became willing to call virtually anyone a Christian who wished to be called one. As Murray records, “Those who deny the virgin birth and the bodily resurrection of Christ, [Dr Stott] affirmed, do not ‘forfeit the right to be called Christians’” [Evangelicalism Divided, 119.].

How sad that these evangelical Anglicans forgot the words of their own Bishop Ryle:

Divisions and separations are most objectionable in religion. They weaken the cause of true Christianity . . . But before we blame people for them, we must be careful that we lay the blame where it is deserved. False doctrine and heresy are even worse than schism. If people separate themselves from teaching which is positively false and unscriptural, they ought to be praised rather than reproved. In such cases separation is a virtue and not a sin . . . The old saying must never be forgotten, “He is the schismatic who causes the schism’ . . . Controversy in religion is a hateful thing . . . But there is one thing which is even worse than controversy, and that is false doctrine, allowed, and permitted without protest or molestation.

—J. C. Ryle, quoted in Iain Murray, Evangelicalism Divided (Banner of Truth, 2000), 141.

Originally posted April 26, 2006.

Doctor flies into South Dakota to perform abortions

Sioux Falls, South Dakota (CNN) -- Not a single doctor in South Dakota will [murder babies], which is why Dr. Miriam McCreary has come out of retirement.

Once or twice a month, the 70-year-old grandmother takes a 45-minute flight from Minneapolis, Minnesota, to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, to [murder babies] at the last clinic in the state willing to [be an accomplice to murder].

“I want every child that’s born, to be born into a family that wants a child. I don’t want children to be born into a family where they are not wanted and can’t be cared for carefully. That’s the tragedy,” McCreary said. [Read full article]

“That’s the tragedy.” Do you know something? She is right. That someone would not want a child that was created by God at that exact time according to his will is indeed a tragedy. That anyone would rebel against God’s right to create whomever he pleases, whenever and wherever he pleases, is tragic.

Some would say that the greater tragedy is the murder itself. I disagree. Certainly, it is a horrific crime, and it is tragic, but it is not the greatest tragedy. That child is in the hands of God. The life that has been taken from that child is a mere heartbeat in time as he passes into eternity. In the scope of eternity, it matters little to the victim.

The greatest tragedy is the soul-damning hardening of the killer’s heart.

At 70 years old, a grandmother who has given birth and held her own babies and their babies in her arms takes her turn in the rotation of killers who fly to Sioux Falls to spend the day killing babies, sixteen on this particular day. Sixteen cold-blooded murders. Think of her, and weep. No doubt she has handled the bodies of fully developed babies, lifeless in her hands on countless occasions. Does she think of them when she visits her grandchildren? How hard her heart must be.

Every day, 3,700 American women choose to kill their babies, 1.37 million each year. Worldwide, the numbers are 126,000 per day, 46 million per year. We must assume that there are approximately the same number of men complicit in these murders.

The real tragedy is the tens of thousands of men and women who, at this very moment, are hardening or have already hardened their hearts in preparation to kill. They are hardening their hearts against the voice of God. They will not hear him, and so they cannot hear him saying “You shall not murder!” Yes, he is saying it, even to those without Scripture, for he speaks through his creation, as well, and his Law is written on our hearts. He speaks, through the life that is felt in the womb, to anyone who will listen.

But there are other hard hearts involved. People who would never kill a baby with their own hands, yet go to the polls and knowingly vote for candidates who have promised to protect the right to kill. They are guilty, too, and must harden their hearts to choose, for whatever the cause, to enable the killers. Many of them call themselves “Christians.” Are you one of them? Perhaps you voted for a “pro-choice” candidate because he stood on the right side of a more important issue. Perhaps you hardened your heart against the lives of children in order to “save the planet,” or “fight poverty.”

I pity those whose hearts are so hardened that murder is an acceptable choice. You see, that is where the battle lies: in the hearts of men and women. The battle is not for the lives of children, it is for the souls of killers, and we have only one weapon in this battle. It is not our vote, or letters to congressmen, or any other political action. It is the Gospel, and nothing else.

I believe in civic duty. I believe in supporting candidates that stand for righteousness and justice. I believe in promoting good government. But I entertain no hope that the governments of men can subdue evil, and I see only limited value in what they can accomplish. Our battle is not for good government and just law, but for the souls of men and women.

Am I repeating myself? I hope I’m making my point. We can work for just law, and we should. We can oppose wicked laws and lawmakers, and we should. But lost sinners whose evil intentions are restrained still go to hell, and redeemed saints who are filled with the Holy Spirit don’t kill babies.

Before Jesus ascended into Heaven, surely he knew the evil that would come in our day. Yet his last words to his disciples were not of social or political action. His last command was this: As you go into the world, preach the Gospel. Make disciples. Teach them. Not only is that our mission, it is the only cure for the evil around us. It is the only thing that can penetrate hard hearts. God help us to keep focused on the task he has given us.

Related: Building something “Godly”.

The twentieth century conflict between evangelicals and anglo-catholics in the Church of England was not the first of its kind. Two hundred years earlier, George Whitefield and John Wesley had preached the necessity of conversion, and defined the word “Christian” in specific terms. It did not go over well with their Anglican colleagues. Iain Murray wrote:

   The clergy immediately complained that such preaching was disturbing the baptized members of the church. As early as May 1742 Wesley and Whitefield were required to present themselves before the Archbishop of Canterbury. Despite their attempts to avoid causing needless offense, this was only the beginning of the trouble. Given the situation, they knew that opposition was inevitable. Whitefield believed: ‘It is every minister’s duty to declare against the corruption of that church to which they belong.’ Thus when the Bishop of London accused him of saying that he preached ‘a new gospel unknown to the generality of ministers and people’, far from modifying his words, Whitefield replied:

’Tis true, My Lord, in one sense, mine is a new gospel, and will always be to the generality of ministers and people, even in a christian country, if your Lordship’s clergy follow your Lordship’s directions.

Whitfield then went on to quote the bishop’s counsel that a preacher should ‘leave no doubt’ in their [sic] hearers ‘whether good works are a necessary condition of your being justified in the sight of God’.

Was the great apostle of the Gentiles now living, what anathemas would he pronounce against such Judaizing doctrine? . . . This is the great fundamental point in which we differ from the church of Rome. This is the grand point of contention between the generality of the established clergy and the Methodist preachers: we plead for free justification in the sight of God, by faith alone, in the imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ, without any regard to works past, present, or to come.

   In Whitefield’s eyes the bishop’s counsel on the need for good works was as needless as it was false, and not surprisingly, for ‘our pulpits ring of nothing more than doing no one any harm, living honestly, loving your neighbor as yourselves, and to do what you can and then Christ is to make up the deficiency.’

—Iain Murray, Evangelicalism Divided (Banner of Truth, 2000), 159–160.

The Archbishop of York went as far as to quote the Council of Trent against the evangelists: “If any man shall say that justifying faith is nothing else but a confidence in the divine mercy, remitting sins for Christ’s sake, and that this confidence is that alone by which we are justified, let him be accursed. ” The response of Whitefield and Wesley stands in stark contrast to that of Packer and Stott. Rather than enter into dialogue with enemies of the gospel, they stuck by their guns and, with direct confrontation, did not allow the fundamental issues to be obscured.

   Neither Wesley nor Whitefield would be drawn into a general debate on the theology of the sacraments. Nor did they attempt to explain how the teaching of the Articles was consistent with the language of other parts of the Prayer Book. They simply stuck to their witness as evangelists and scorned the idea that baptism was enough to identify a Christian. Wesley writes:

I tell a sinner, ‘You must be born again.’ ‘No,’ says you: ‘He was born again in baptism. Therefore, he cannot be born again now.’ Alas, what trifling this is! What, if he was then a child of God? He is now manifestly a child of the devil; for the works of his father he doeth. Therefore do not play upon words. He must go through an entire change of heart. In one not yet baptized, you yourself would call that change, the new birth. In him, call it what you will; but remember, meantime, that if either he or you will die without it, your baptism will be so far from profiting you, that it will greatly increase your damnation.

—Ibid., 163.

Iain Murray offers one of the reasons he believes evangelicals of the twentieth century have not followed in the footsteps of the Whitefields and Wesleys two centuries prior:

There is a prominent feature in the evangelical history of the eighteenth century which may explain why many evangelicals in Britain and the United States have taken a different course in these last fifty years. As we have seen, evangelical leadership today has been much concerned with a matter about which their predecessors took a very different view, that is, the approval and support of non-evangelical clergy and denominational leaders. Wesley and Whitefield lost any possibility of gaining the good opinion of their peers at the very outset of their work. But far from moderating themselves in an attempt to win it back, they regarded the very idea as a temptation to be resisted. In the midst of a worldly church they saw the bearing of reproach as a necessary part of being a Christian. ‘In our days,’ said Whitefield, ‘to be a true Christian, is really to become a scandal.’
   The church leaders of the eighteenth century did their utmost to hinder other clergy from turning evangelical and one of the principal threats was the certain loss of reputation and preferment. Wesley said the ‘great pains were taken’ to keep the number willing to take a bold stand few in number. Anyone who did so ‘could give up at once all thought of preferment either in Church or State; nay, all hope of even a Fellowship, or a poor scholarship, in either University’.
   For Wesley and Whitefield resistance to such threats was the duty of all who did not live for the approval of man. To clergy who failed to make such a stand a Scripture commands, Wesley said: ‘You dare not: because you have respect of persons. You fear the faces of men. You cannot; because you have not overcome the world. You are not above the desire of earthly things. And it is impossible . . . till you desire nothing more than God.’

—Iain Murray, Evangelicalism Divided (Banner of Truth, 2000), 169–170.

I love this hymn. Sadly, I don’t think I’ve had occasion to sing it in the last twenty years. If you’ve got anything to do with the music at your church, sing it for me!

19 My God! How Wonderful Thou Art

My God, how wonderful Thou art,
   Thy majesty, how bright!
How beautiful Thy mercy seat
   In depths of burning light!

How dread are Thine eternal years,
   O everlasting Lord,
By prostrate spirits day and night
   Incessantly adored!

How wonderful, how beautiful,
   The sight of Thee must be,
Thine endless wisdom, boundless pow’r,
   And awful purity!

O how I fear Thee, living God!
   With deepest tend’rest fears,
And worship Thee with trembling hope,
   And penitential tears!

Yet, I may love Thee, too, O Lord!
   Almighty as Thou art,
For Thou hast stooped to ask of me
   The love of my poor heart.

No earthly father loves like Thee,
   No mother, e’er so mild,
Bears and forbears as Thou hast done
   With me, Thy sinful child.

My God, how wonderful Thou art,
   Thou everlasting Friend!
On Thee I stay my trusting heart,
   Till faith in vision end.

The first two of the performances below are Dundee

(also used for The Lord’s My Shepherd, I’ll not Want and According to Thy Gracious Word), the tune found in the Concordia. The final performance, by New Zealand chamber choir Musica Sacra, is Westminster.

Organ

Concordia Chapel Choir

Musica Sacra

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

Recovered from the Tomb
Mather Byles (1706–1788)

To Thee, my Lord, I lift the song,
Awake, my tuneful powers;
In constant praise my grateful tongue
Shall fill my following hours.

Guilty, condemned, undone I stood;
I bid my God depart.
He took my sins, and paid His blood,
And turned this wandering heart.

Death, the grim tyrant, seized my frame,
Vile, loathsome, accursed;
His breath renews the vital flame,
And glories change the dust.

Now, Savior, shall Thy praise commence;
My soul by Thee brought home,
And every member, every sense,
Recovered from the tomb.

To Thee my reason I submit,
My love, my memory, Lord,
My eyes to read, my hands to write,
My lips to preach Thy Word.

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

John 13:6–15

So He came to Simon Peter. He said to Him, “Lord, do You wash my feet?” 7 Jesus answered and said to him, “What I do you do not realize now, but you will understand hereafter.” 8 Peter said to Him, “Never shall You wash my feet!” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me.” 9 Simon Peter said to Him, “Lord, then wash not only my feet, but also my hands and my head.” 10 Jesus said to him, “He who has bathed needs only to wash his feet, but is completely clean; and you are clean, but not all of you.” 11 For He knew the one who was betraying Him; for this reason He said, “Not all of you are clean.”
   12 So when He had washed their feet, and taken His garments and reclined at the table again, He said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? 13 You call Me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. 14 If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I gave you an example that you also should do as I did to you.

   The verses we have now read conclude the story of our Lord’s washing the feet of His disciples, the night before He was crucified. It is a story full of touching interest, which for some wise reason no Evangelist records except St. John. The wonderful condescension of Christ, in doing such a menial action, can hardly fail to strike any reader. The mere fact that the Master should wash the feet of the servants might well fill us with surprise. But the circumstances and sayings which arose out of the action are just as interesting as the action itself. Let us see what they were.
   We should notice, firstly, the hasty ignorance of the Apostle Peter. One moment we find him refusing to allow his Master to do such a servile work as He is about to do:—“Dost thou wash my feet?” “Thou shalt never wash my feet.” Another moment we find him rushing with characteristic impetuosity into the other extreme:—“Lord, wash not my feet only, but my hands and my head.” But throughout the transaction we find him unable to take in the real meaning of what his eyes behold. He sees, but he does not understand.
   Let us learn from Peter’s conduct that a man may have plenty of faith and love, and yet be sadly destitute of clear knowledge. We must not set down men as graceless and godless because they are dull, and stupid, and blundering in their religion. The heart may often be quite right when the head is quite wrong. We must make allowances for the corruption of the understanding, as well as of the will. We must not be surprised to find that the brains as well as the affections of Adam’s children have been hurt by the fall. It is a humbling lesson, and one seldom fully learned except by long experience. But the longer we live the more true shall we find it, that a believer, like Peter, may make many mistakes and lack understanding, and yet, like Peter, have a heart right before God, and get to heaven at last.
   Even at our best estate we shall find that many of Christ’s dealings with us are hard to understand in this life. The “why” and “wherefore” of many a providence will often puzzle and perplex us quite as much as the washing puzzled Peter. The wisdom, and fitness, and necessity of many a thing will often be hidden from our eyes. But at times like these we must remember the Master’s words, and fall back upon them:—“What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.” There came days, long after Christ had left the world, when Peter saw the full meaning of all that happened on the memorable night before the crucifixion. Even so there will be a day when every dark page in our life’s history will be explained, and when, as we stand with Christ in glory, we shall know all.
We should notice, secondly, in this passage, the plain practical lesson which lies upon its surface. That lesson is read out to us by our Lord. He says, “I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you.”
   Humility is evidently one part of the lesson. If the only-begotten Son of God, the King of kings, did not think it beneath Him to do the humblest work of a servant, there is nothing which His disciples should think themselves too great or too good to do. No sin is so offensive to God, and so injurious to the soul as pride. No grace is so commended, both by precept and example, as humility. “Be clothed with humility.” “He that humbleth himself shall be exalted.”—“Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus; who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself.” (1 Pet. v. 5; Luke xviii 14; Phil. ii. 5–8.) Well would it be for the Church if this very simple truth was more remembered, and real humility was not so sadly rare. Perhaps there is no sight so displeasing in God’s eyes as a self-conceited, self-satisfied, self-contented, stuck-up professor of religion. Alas, it is a sight only too common! Yet the words which St. John here records have never been repealed. They will be a swift witness against many at the last day, except they repent.
   Love is manifestly the other part of the great practical lesson. Our Lord would have us love others so much that we should delight to do anything which can promote their happiness. We ought to rejoice in doing kindnesses, even in little things. We ought to count it a pleasure to lessen sorrow and multiply joy, even when it costs us some self-sacrifice and self-denial. We ought to love every child of Adam so well, that if in the least trifle we can do anything to make him more happy and comfortable, we should be glad to do it. This was the mind of the Master, and this the ruling principle of His conduct upon earth. There are but few who walk in His steps, it may be feared; but these few are men and women after His own heart.
   The lesson before us may seem a very simple one; but its importance can never be overrated. Humility and love are precisely the graces which the men of the world can understand, if they do not comprehend doctrines. They are graces about which there is no mystery, and they are within reach of all Christians. The poorest and most ignorant Christian can every day find occasion for practicing love and humility. Then if we would do good to the world, and make our calling and election sure, let no man forget our Lord’s example in this passage. Like Him, let us be humble and loving towards all.
   We should notice, lastly, in this passage, the deep spiritual lessons which lie beneath its surface. They are three in number, and lie at the very root of religion, though we can only touch them briefly.
   For one thing, we learn that all need to be washed by Christ. “If I wash thee not, thou hast no part in Me.” No man or woman can be saved unless his sins are washed away in Christ’s precious blood. Nothing else can make us clean or acceptable before God. We must be “washed, sanctified, and justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.” (1 Cor. vi. 11.) Christ must wash us, if we are ever to sit down with saints in glory. Then let us take heed that we apply to Him by faith, wash and become clean. They only are washed who believe.
   For another thing, we learn that even those who are cleansed and forgiven need a daily application to the blood of Christ for daily pardon. We cannot pass through this evil world without defilement. There is not a day in our lives but we fail and come short in many things, and need fresh supplies of mercy. Even “he that is washed needs to wash his feet,” and to wash them in the same fountain where he found peace of conscience when he first believed. Then let us daily use that fountain without fear. With the blood of Christ we must begin, and with the blood of Christ we must go on.
   Finally, we learn that even those who kept company with Christ, and were baptized with water as His disciples, were “not all” washed from their sin. These words are very solemn,—“Ye are clean: but not all.” Then let us take heed to ourselves, and beware of false profession. If even Christ’s own disciples are not all cleansed and justified, we have reason to be on our guard. Baptism and Churchmanship are no proof that we are right in the sight of God.

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

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

I have a bit of Papism on the brain lately; you may have to bear with me.

Last week I commented on the so-called explanation for the Roman doctrine of the perpetual virginity of Mary found in The Catholic Study Bible (Mark 6:3). This is a de fide doctrine, that is, “of the faith.” These are essential doctrines, denial of which is heresy. Also held de fide is the doctrine of the immaculate conception:

On the 8th December, 1854, Pope Pius IX, in the Bull “Ineffabilis” promulgated the following doctrine as revealed by God, and therefore to be believed firmly and constantly by all the faithful: “The Most Holy Virgin Mary was, in the first moment of her conception, by a unique gift of grace and privilege of Almighty God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the redeemer of mankind, preserved free from all stain of original sin.”

—Ludwig Ott, Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma (The Mercier Press, 1960), 199.

According to Roman dogma, Mary was born, and remained, without sin. Mary: sinless, and perpetually virgin. There is a conflict in there that ought to be obvious. Can you see it? If not, don’t feel too badly. It only occurred to me as I listened to John MacArthur Explaining the Heresy of Catholicism. The following verses from 1 Corinthians 7 should clear it up for you:

3 The husband must fulfill his duty to his wife, and likewise also the wife to her husband. 4 The wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does; and likewise also the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does. 5 Stop depriving one another, except by agreement for a time, so that you may devote yourselves to prayer, and come together again so that Satan will not tempt you because of your lack of self-control.

If Mary had remained a virgin, she would have sinned. That she would have sinned gives me no problem. I certainly believe that she, like every other descendant of Adam, was conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity (Psalm 51:5), and lived, like all of us, in constant need of forgiveness. I could even buy her perpetual virginity, if it was not so plainly false and the Roman apologies so absurd. What is impossible to reconcile is the proposition that she both was sinless and lived a life that was fundamentally sinful.

As I like to say, you do the math.

Related: Did Augustine Teach the Sinlessness of Mary?

The following excerpt from Evangelicalism Divided is a good warning to those who abandon scriptural inerrancy and confidence in the actual words of Scripture. It should also be an encouragement to those ministers who remain faithful.

   The ministry of J. C. Ryle, first Bishop of Liverpool (1880–1900), was devoted to teaching what Scripture says, and the result has been the abiding faithfulness and relevance of his writings. By 1897, and estimated twelve million copies of Ryle’s tracts and booklets had been sold and his writings continue to be read world wide-today. Compare this with the work of his son, Herbert Edward Ryle, Hulsean Professor of Divinity at Cambridge and ultimately Dean of Westminster. Herbert Ryle, in contrast with his Father, believed that verbal inspiration was ‘irretrievably shattered’. He probably agreed with his biographer that the tendency of the Evangelical Revival was towards ‘bibliolatery’. From the year 1916, Herbert Ryle was at work on a Commentary on the Minor Prophets and much of the work was done by the time of his death in 1924. Yet it was never published. A professor of theology, asked to evaluate it, considered the manuscript, ‘the work of a tired man’. It was probably already out of date. Today no one reads Dean Ryle of Westminister.

—Iain Murray, Evangelicalism Divided (Banner of Truth, 2000), 205.

The statement above concerning Herbert Ryle’s Commentary on the Minor Prophets — “It was probably already out of date” — deserves attention, as it exposes the dilemma of liberal scholarship. That dilemma is that, in order to be relevant, one must be on the cutting edge of current scholarship. In plain terms, that means the cutting edge of what liberal scholars are saying right now. Keep up, or be relegated to the dustbin of yesterday’s fads.

The scholar who only seeks to be faithful to God’s Word has no such worries. Everything that really matters was written two thousand or more years ago. Everything since then only builds on that foundation. There is no pressure to be novel, only the responsibility to guard and accurately teach the ancient truths of God (1 Timothy 6:20; 2 Timothy 2:15).