Considering the seriousness of yesterday’s post, I suppose it’s a poor reflection on my maturity that it left me thinking of this.

Accumulated error is what you get when you measure from anything but your original starting point. For example, let’s look at the walls in your house. Beneath the sheetrock (or other wall paneling) is the wood frame of the wall. That frame is made up of vertical studs connected at top and bottom by horizontal plates. The studs are positioned on sixteen inch centers. For a number of reasons, it is important that that spacing be maintained fairly accurately. Therefore, when laying out the wall, the carpenter marks the stud positions on the plates, measuring each from the same point at one end of the wall. What would happen if he didn’t do that? Suppose he marked the first stud position, and then measured sixteen inches from that point to mark the next, and sixteen inches from that point to mark the next, and so on. Suppose then, in his haste, his marks were off just a little (as is often the case). If each mark was off only one sixteenth of an inch, the inaccuracy would accumulate with each new measurement until the studs were completely out of place. If, however, the carpenter measures all from the same point, he can make even larger errors without throwing the whole wall out of whack.

Now consider the reference in law to precedent. When judges refer to precedent in their rulings, they are, as it were, measuring from the previous stud rather that the beginning of the wall. They are piling one possible error on top of another. When the Supreme Court — the guardians of the standard of measurement — does this, the consequences are much more serious than in the lower courts. The Supreme Court, more than any other, should ignore precedent. Hear Should-have-been-Justice Robert Bork on the subject:

Robert Bork on Constitutional Precedent

It’s official: I am an idiot. As you may know, I joined Facebook yesterday. You can read my thoughts and intents on that here. As it turns out, I didn’t know what I was doing.

I knew what I wanted. I just wanted a Facebook presence that would feed this blog. I didn’t want to go through all that phony phriend nonsense, so I declared right from the start that I wasn’t going to do that. Then, after setting up my page and seeing how things worked, I realized that, even though it was open to everyone, only “friends” could get my notifications. I therefore relented and began accepting “friends.” Then, a reader advised me that a “fan page” might suit me better. I looked into that and discovered that he was right; that was exactly what I wanted, so I set up a page for The Thirsty Theologian. It was perfect . . .

Except for one thing. See, when you create a fan page, you have to put it in a category according to its purpose. Looking over the available categories, the one that seemed to fit closest was “writer.” It was either that, or “religious organization.” Anyway, I thought, “blogger/writer, close enough.” But then, in the search results, I saw that I was listed as an author. “Writer” can mean a lot of things, but “author” implies legitimate published work. I’m no author, and I was embarrassed to have anyone catch me misrepresenting myself. Having already acquired a few “fans,” and having already apologized to my “friends” for dumping them in favor of a fan page, I looked for a way to change the category to anything that wouldn’t be a bald-faced lie, but to no avail. Someone will probably now inform me of an easy, obvious way to do that, but I couldn’t find it. In the process, I discovered the category I had overlooked: “website.” Duh. I decided I had to start over, but it was late, so I simply deactivated my account to avoid accumulating any more fans, and went to bed.

This morning (which, to my frustration, came at 3:15), I wiped the slate clean and started over. This time, I can say with a reasonable measure of confidence that I am finished, and that you can find my new Facebook page here.

Again, I want to apologize to everyone who paid me the compliment of becoming my “friend” or “fan,” and hope you will give me a chance to redeem myself.

Finally, I’m still uncomfortable with the idea of having “fans.” If there was a way to avoid it, I would, so please, if you know how that can be done, and it involves redoing anything, keep it to yourself.

You already know what I think of Twitter. I’ve already insulted a multitude of “tweeters” on that score. Yet I opened a Twitter account more than six months ago, and continue posting there for the reason given at the time. I consider myself a missionary to the grammatically impaired.

Well, today I’m here to tell you that slippery slopes really do exist, and one sin does lead to another. The proof? I joined Facebook yesterday. Now, I’m not going to beat around the bush: my opinion of Facebook is several fathoms below my opinion of Twitter. Twitter, as most people use it, is shallow, narcissistic, pointless, and generally lame. What Twitter does to communication, Facebook does to human relationships — and I despise that.

I actually had a much longer diatribe on Facebook prepared, but I think I’ll save it. Suffice it to say that everything I said about my use of Twitter will apply to Facebook as well, which means I probably won’t “friend” you*. Don’t take it personally, and don’t get me started about the abominable perversion of a word I hold precious. If you really are, or want to be, my friend, drop me an email, write me a letter, give me a call, stop by for a visit — you know, like a friend would.

I don’t know how profitable this venture will be. Honestly, the best way to follow this, or any other, blog is through an RSS reader. If you already do that, there is no reason to follow me on Twitter or Facebook. However, if this sort of thing interests you, I’ll tell you what you can expect from me on Facebook. First, links to this blog’s daily posts. Second, next to nothing. I spent quite a bit of time yesterday going through all the privacy settings, basically fixing it so no one can see anything but my posts, which, if I did it right, everyone can see, so you won’t have to be my “friend” to get everything I’ve made available to anyone.

So — for whatever it’s worth, here I am on Facebook.

*Update: Okay, so what do I know? It seems you can’t conveniently follow my Facebook posts unless you are my “friend,” so I guess I’ll have to loosen up on that. But I don’t like it!

*Update 2: A kind reader informed your clueless host that a Thirsty Theologian Fan Page would likely serve him better and solve the “friend” dilemma. That advice has been gratefully accepted, and the link above has been appropriately modified. He asks you to accept his apologies for the inconvenience, especially to those of you who so eagerly clicked the “friend” button.

*Update 3: I’m not feeling too bright presently. For now I’ll just say I goofed, and consequently, I’ve deactivated my Facebook account. I’ll explain later, and have it all straightened out soon. But now, I’m going to bed.

*Update 4: The Rest of the Story.

Sorry, folks, I’m very busy this week and may not post exactly according to the usual schedule. Since today is normally reserved for Gurnall, let me point you to The Christian in Complete Armour online.

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If you would like to attend but have not made your arrangements yet, time is quickly running out. Visit t4g.org to register and find all the information you will need on lodging and the conference schedule. Registration closes March 28.

If you are a blogger, consider attending the Band of Bloggers gathering preceding the conference. It’s a good time of encouragement and a unique opportunity to see your favorite bloggers in the flesh, and possibly meet that guy you might have argued with over your lapsarian views.

Be there or be square.

Related:
Tim Challies at Together for the Gospel 2006 and 2008.

True Religion

Lord God Almighty,

I ask not to be enrolled amongst the earthly
great and rich,
   but to be numbered with the spiritually blessed.
Make it my present, supreme, persevering concern
   to obtain those blessings which are
      spiritual in their nature,
      eternal in their continuance,
      satisfying in their possession.
Preserve me from a false estimate of the whole
   or a part of my character;
May I pay regard to
   my principles as well as my conduct,
   my motives as well as my actions.
Help me
   never to mistake the excitement of my passions
      for the renewing of the Holy Spirit,
   never to judge my religion by occasional
      impressions and impulses, but by my
         constant and prevailing disposition.
May my heart be right with thee,
   and my life as becometh the gospel.
May I maintain a supreme regard to another
      and better world,
   and feel and confess myself a stranger
      and a pilgrim here.
Afford me all the direction, defense, support,
   and consolation my journey hence requires,
   and grant me a mind stayed upon thee.
Give me a large abundance of the supply of
      the Spirit of Jesus,
   that I may be prepared for every duty,
   love thee in all my mercies,
   submit to thee in every trial,
   trust thee when walking in darkness,
   have peace in thee amidst life’s changes.
Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief
   and uncertainties.

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

John 8:31–36

So Jesus was saying to those Jews who had believed Him, “If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine; 32 and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” 33 They answered Him, “We are Abraham’s descendants and have never yet been enslaved to anyone; how is it that You say, ‘You will become free’?”
   34 Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is the slave of sin. 35 The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son does remain forever. 36 So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”

These verses show us, for one thing, the importance of steady perseverance in Christ’s service. There were many, it seems, at this particular period, who professed to believe on our Lord, and expressed a desire to become His disciples. There is nothing to show that they had true faith. They appear to have acted under the influence of temporary excitement, without considering what they were doing. And to them our Lord addresses this instructive warning,—“If ye continue in My word, then are ye My disciples indeed.”
   This sentence contains a mine of wisdom. To make a beginning in religious life is comparatively easy. Not a few mixed motives assist us. The love of novelty, the praise of well-meaning but imprudent professors, the secret self-satisfaction of feeling “how good I am,” the universal excitement attending a new position,—all these things combine to aid the young beginner. Aided by them he begins to run the race that leads to heaven, lays aside many bad habits, takes up many good ones, has many comfortable frames and feelings, and gets on swimmingly for a time. But when the newness of his position is past and gone, when the freshness of his feelings is rubbed off and lost, when the world and the devil begin to pull hard at him, when the weakness of his own heart begins to appear,—then it is that he finds out the real difficulties of vital Christianity. Then it is that he discovers the deep wisdom of our Lord’s saying now before us. It is not beginning, but “continuing” a religious profession, that is the test of true grace.
   We should remember these things in forming our estimate of other people’s religion. No doubt we ought to be thankful when we see any one ceasing to do evil and learning to do well. We must not “despise the day of small things.” (Zech. iv. 10.) But we must not forget that to begin is one thing, and to go on is quite another. Patient continuance in well-doing is the only sure evidence of grace. Not he that runs fast and furiously at first, but he that keeps up his speed, is he that “runs so as to obtain.” By all means let us be hopeful when we see anything like conversion. But let us not make too sure that it is real conversion, until time has set its seal upon it. Time and wear test metals, and prove whether they are solid or plated. Time and wear, in like manner, are the surest tests of a man’s religion. Where there is spiritual life there will be continuance and steady perseverance. It is the man who goes on as well as begins, that is “the disciple indeed.”
   These verses show us, for another thing, the nature of true slavery. The Jews were fond of boasting, though without any just cause, that they were politically free, and were not in bondage to any foreign power. Our Lord reminds those who there was another bondage to which they were giving no heed, although enslaved by it.—“He that committeth sin is the servant of sin.”
   How true that is! How many on every side are total slaves, although they do not acknowledge it! They are led captive by their besetting corruptions and infirmities, and seem to have no power to get free. Ambition, the love of money, the passion for drink, the craving for pleasure and excitement, gambling, gluttony, illicit connections,—all these are so many tyrants among men. Each and all have crowds of unhappy prisoners bound hand and foot in their chains. The wretched prisoners will not admit their bondage. They will even boast sometimes that they are eminently free. But many of them know better. There are times when the iron enters into their souls, and they feel bitterly that they are slaves.
   There is no slavery like this. Sin is indeed the hardest of all taskmasters. Misery and disappointment in the way, despair and hell in the end,—these are the only wages that sin pays to its servants. To deliver men from this bondage, is the grand object of the Gospel. To awaken people to a sense of their degradation, to show them their chains, to make them arise and struggle to be free,—this is the great end for which Christ sent forth His ministers. Happy is he who has opened his eyes and found out his danger. To know that we are being led captive, is the very first step toward deliverance.
   These verses, show us, lastly, the nature of true liberty. Our Lord declares this to the Jews in one comprehensive sentence. He says, “If the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.”
   Liberty, most Englishmen know, is rightly esteemed one of the highest temporal blessings. Freedom from foreign dominion, a free constitution, free trade, a free press, civil and religious liberty,—what a world of meaning lies beneath these phrases! How many would sacrifice life and fortune to maintain the things which they represent! Yet, after all our boasting, there are many so-called freemen who are nothing better than slaves. There are many who are totally ignorant of the highest, purest form of liberty. The noblest liberty is that which is the property of the true Christian. Those only are perfectly free people whom the Son of God “makes free.” All else will sooner or later be found slaves.
   Wherein does the liberty of true Christians consist? Of what is their freedom made up?—They are freed from the guilt and consequences of sin by the blood of Christ. Justified, pardoned, forgiven, they can look forward boldly to the day of judgment, and cry “Who shall lay anything to our charge? Who is he that condemneth?”—They are freed from the power of sin by the grace of Christ’s Spirit. Sin has no longer dominion over them. Renewed, converted, sanctified, they mortify and tread down sin, and are no longer led captive by it.—Liberty, like this, is the portion of all true Christians in the day that they flee to Christ by faith, and commit their souls to Him. That day they become free men. Liberty, like this, is their portion forevermore. Death cannot stop it. The grave cannot even hold their bodies for more than a little season. Those whom Christ makes free are free to all eternity.
   Let us never rest until we have some personal experience of this freedom ourselves. Without it all other freedom is a worthless privilege. Free speech, free laws, political freedom, commercial freedom, national freedom,—all these cannot smooth down a dying pillow, or disarm death of his sting, or fill our consciences with peace. Nothing can do that but the freedom which Christ alone bestows. He gives it freely to all who seek it humbly. Then let us never rest until it is our own.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007).

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

I am not a big fan of new technology. I’m not at all interested in the latest gadget. But when I saw a headline last week announcing an “iShoe,” I thought, “Hey, cool! Now, that, I could use! As it turns out, though, it wasn’t what I thought it was.

On the low-tech side, I’ve picked up a new hobby: the slide rule. Sound dull? Well it’s not. And as you laugh at me, consider this: when civilization collapses and all the calculators have worn out, I’ll still be able to tell you, in just a few seconds, that the square root of 7 is 2.646.

I’m not actually old enough to have been taught to use a slide rule and, as I’ve asked around, it seems there is not a single person I know who knows how to use one. I went on eBay to find the particular model that corresponds with an instruction book I had picked up previously, and I’m teaching myself.

So I’m curious; have any of my readers ever used a slide rule, or known anyone who did?

Just one sentence today, but perhaps the most vital sentence that this nation can consider today:

The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.

—the Tenth Amendment to the United States Constitution

Calvin on knowing Christ as the gift of God:

   These two clauses, If thou knewest the gift of God, and, who it is that talketh with thee, I read separately, viewing the latter as an interpretation of the former. For it was a wonderful kindness of God to have Christ present, who brought with him eternal life. The meaning will be more plain if, instead of and, we put namely, or some other word of that kind, thus: If thou knewest the gift of God, namely, who it is that talketh with thee. By these words we are taught that then only do we know what Christ is, when we understand what the Father hath given to us in him, and what benefits he brings to us. Now that knowledge begins with a conviction of our poverty; for, before any one desires a remedy, he must be previously affected with the view of his distresses. Thus the Lord invites not those who have drunk enough, but the thirsty, not those who are satiated, but the hungry, to eat and drink. And why would Christ be sent with the fullness of the Spirit, if we were not empty?
   Again, as he has made great progress, who, feeling his deficiency, already acknowledges how much he needs the aid of another; so it would not be enough for him to groan under his distresses, if he had not also hope of aid ready and prepared. In this way we might do no more than waste ourselves with grief, or at least we might, like the Papists, run about in every direction, and oppress ourselves with useless and unprofitable weariness. But when Christ appears, we no longer wander in vain, seeking a remedy where none can be obtained, but we go straight to him. The only true and profitable knowledge of the grace of God is, when we know that it is exhibited to us in Christ, and that it is held out to us by his hand. In like manner does Christ remind us how efficacious is a knowledge of his blessings, since it excites us to seek them and kindles our hearts. If thou knewest, says he, thou wouldst have asked. The design of these words is not difficult to be perceived; for he intended to whet the desire of this woman, that she might not despise and reject the life which was offered to her.

—John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries Volume XVII, Commentary on the Gospel according to John, Volume I (Baker Books, 2009), 148–149.

John the Baptist here describes the function of all ministers of the gospel, which includes, in some measure, every believer. Calvin writes:

   29. He who hath the bride. By this comparison, he confirms more fully the statement, that it is Christ alone who is excluded from the ordinary rank of men. For as he who marries a wife does not call and invite his friends to the marriage, in order to prostitute the bride to them, or, by giving up his own rights, to allow them to partake with him of the nuptial bed, but rather that the marriage, being honoured by them, may be rendered more sacred; so Christ does not call his ministers to the office of teaching, in order that, by conquering the Church, they may claim dominion over it, but that he may make use of their faithful labours for associating them with himself. It is a great and lofty distinction, that men are appointed over the Church, to represent the person of the Son of God. They are, therefore, like the friends whom the bridegroom brings with him, that they may accompany him in celebrating the marriage; but we must attend to the distinction, that ministers, being mindful of their rank, may not appropriate to themselves what belongs exclusively to the bridegroom The whole amounts to this, that all the eminence which teachers may possess among themselves ought not to hinder Christ from ruling alone in his Church, or from governing it alone by his word.
   This comparison frequently occurs in Scripture, when the Lord intends to express the sacred bond of adoption, by which he binds us to himself. For as he offers himself to be truly enjoyed by us, that he may be ours, so he justly claims from us that mutual fidelity and love which the wife owes to her husband. This marriage is entirely fulfilled in Christ, whose flesh and bones we are, as Paul informs us, (Eph. v. 30.) The chastity demanded by him consists chiefly in the obedience of the Gospel, that we may not suffer ourselves to be led aside from its pure simplicity, as the same Apostle teaches us, (2 Cor. xi. 2, 3.) We must, therefore, be subject to Christ alone, he must be our only Head, we must not turn aside a hair’s-breadth from the simple doctrine of the Gospel, he alone must have the highest glory, that he may retain the right and authority of being a bridegroom to us.
   But what are ministers to do? Certainly, the Son of God calls them, that they may perform their duty to him in conducting the sacred marriage; and, therefore, their duty is, to take care, in every way, that the spouse — who is committed to their charge — may be presented by them as a chaste virgin to her husband; which Paul, in the passage already quoted, boasts of having done. But they who draw the Church to themselves rather than to Christ are guilty of basely violating the marriage which they ought to have honoured. And the greater the honour which Christ confers on us, by making us the guardians of his spouse, so much the more heinous is our want of fidelity, if we do not endeavour to maintain and defend his right.
   This my joy therefore is fulfilled. He means that he has obtained the fulfillment of all his desires, and that he has nothing further to wish, when he sees Christ reigning, and men listening to him as he deserves. Whoever shall have such affections that, laying aside all regard to himself, he shall extol Christ and be satisfied with seeing Christ honoured, will be faithful and successful in ruling the Church; but, whoever shall swerve from that end in the slightest degree will be a base adulterer, and will do nothing else than corrupt the spouse of Christ.

   30. He must increase. John the Baptist proceeds farther; for, having formerly been raised by the Lord to the highest dignity, he shows that this was only for a time, but now that the Sun of Righteousness, (Mal. iv. 2) has arisen, he must give way; and, therefore, he not only scatters and drives away the empty fumes of honour which had been rashly and ignorantly heaped upon him by men, but also is exceedingly careful that the true and lawful honour which the Lord had bestowed on him may not obscure the glory of Christ. Accordingly, he tells us that the reason why he had been hitherto accounted a great Prophet was, that for a time only he was placed in so lofty a station, until Christ came, to whom he must surrender his office. In the meantime, he declares that he will most willingly endure to be reduced to nothing, provided that Christ occupy and fill the whole world with his rays; and this zeal of John all pastors of the Church ought to imitate by stooping with the head and shoulders to elevate Christ.

—John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries Volume XVII, Commentary on the Gospel according to John, Volume I (Baker Books, 2009), 134–136.

William Gurnall reminds us that our standing is to be done in our proper place, and according to God’s design.

Consider what thou doest out of thy place is not acceptable to God, because thou canst not do it in ‘faith,’ without which ‘it is impossible to please God;’ and it cannot be in faith, because thou hast no call. God will not thank thee for doing that which he did not set thee about. Possibly thou hast good intentions. So had Uzzah in staying the ark, yet how well God liked his zeal, see 2 Sa. vi. 7. Saul himself could make a fair story of his sacrificing, but that served not his turn. It concerns us not only to ask ourselves what the thing is we do, but also who requireth this at our hands? To be sure, God will at last put us upon that question, and it will go ill with us if we cannot show our commission. So long must we needs neglect what is our duty, as we are busy about that which is not. The spouse confesseth this, ‘They made me the keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vineyard have I not kept,’ Ca. i. 6. She could not mind their [vineyards] and her own too—our own iron will cool while we are beating another’s. And this must needs be displeasing to God—to leave the work God sets us about, to do to do what he never commanded. When a master calls a truantly scholar to account, that hath been missing some days from school, would this be a good plea for him to tell his master, that he was all the while in such a man’s shop at work with his tools? No, sure his business lay at school, not in that shop.

—William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002), 1:281.

A couple weeks ago, Calvin’s comments on John 2:4 provoked a discussion in which I learned something I hadn’t known about Roman Catholic Mariology: apparently, Mary is the “New Eve.” Of course we know that Christ is the “last Adam” (1 Corinthians 15:45), but I had never heard any mention of another Eve. Turns out it’s because there isn’t any. What should have immediately occurred to me, but didn’t, is that there couldn’t be a second Eve because Christ already has a bride (Ephesians 5:22–27), chosen before the foundation of the world (Ephesians 1:4).

Well, the gentleman who was schooling me on this mysteriously dropped out of the conversation, so I never really got a satisfactory explanation. While I was waiting to see if he would return, my mind began wandering through the maze of papist Mariology, and I began to wax poetic. Those who remember my previous poetic works, including a contribution to contemporary worship music and a collection of cheese couplets, may want to go elsewhere at this point. Anyway, considering all that the Bible says about Mary, and adding to that all that Rome has said . . .

“This is a song the Lord gave me.”

Not Quite the Magnificat . . . (tune and inspiration)

A couple thousand years ago, I was a Jewish lass
A strange thing happened to me (pardon me if this sounds crass)
I was impregnated by the Spirit of the Lord
And had a holy baby who was very much adored

This baby was the son of God and made me very proud
He was so good that some folks claim he never cried out loud
And then some guys in funny hats invented theories odd
Among them being that I am the very mother of God

So now I am God’s mother and the mother of his son
But I’ll reveal a stranger fact before my song is done
My baby was the second Adam, I, the second Eve
Which made me my son’s wife, a thing I hardly can believe

Now if I am God’s mother, Jesus then is my grandson
I know that is a weird thought, but it’s not the weirdest one
I’ve come to a conclusion that is sticking in my craw
If I am Jesus’ wife, then I’m my granddaughter-in-law

So . . .

I’m my own grandma, I’m my own grandma
It sounds funny, I know, but Rome says it is so
Oh, I’m my own grandma

The Feast.
Horatius Bonar (1808–1889)

Love strong as death, nay stronger,
   Love mightier than the grave;
Broad as the earth, and longer
   Than ocean’s widest wave.
This is the love that sought us,
This is the love that bought us,
This is the love that brought us
   To gladdest day from saddest night,
   From deepest shame to glory bright,
   From depths of death to life’s fair height,
   From darkness to the joy of light:
This is the love that leadeth
   Us to his table here,
This is the love that spreadeth
   For us this royal cheer.

—Horatius Bonar, Hymns of Faith and Hope.

John 8:21–30

Then He said again to them, “I go away, and you will seek Me, and will die in your sin; where I am going, you cannot come.” 22 So the Jews were saying, “Surely He will not kill Himself, will He, since He says, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come’?” 23 And He was saying to them, “You are from below, I am from above; you are of this world, I am not of this world. 24 Therefore I said to you that you will die in your sins; for unless you believe that I am He, you will die in your sins.” 25 So they were saying to Him, “Who are You?” Jesus said to them, “What have I been saying to you from the beginning? 26 I have many things to speak and to judge concerning you, but He who sent Me is true; and the things which I heard from Him, these I speak to the world.” 27 They did not realize that He had been speaking to them about the Father. 28 So Jesus said, “When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am He, and I do nothing on My own initiative, but I speak these things as the Father taught Me. 29 And He who sent Me is with Me; He has not left Me alone, for I always do the things that are pleasing to Him.” 30 As He spoke these things, many came to believe in Him.

This passage contains deep things, so deep that we have no line to fathom them. As we read it we should call to mind the Psalmist’s words,—“Thy thoughts are very deep.” (Psalm xcii. 5.) But it also contains, in the opening verses, some things which are clear, plain, and unmistakable. To these let us give our attention and root them firmly in our hearts.
   We learn, for one thing, that it is possible to seek Christ in vain. Our Lord says to the unbelieving Jews, “Ye shall seek Me, and shall die in your sins.” He meant, by these words, that the Jews would one day seek Him in vain.
   The lesson before us is a very painful one. That such a Saviour as the Lord Jesus, so full of love, so willing to save, should ever be sought “in vain,” is a sorrowful thought. Yet so it is! A man may have many religious feelings about Christ, without any saving religion. Sickness, sudden affliction, the fear of death, the failure of usual sources of comfort—all these causes may draw out of a man a good deal of “religiousness.” Under the immediate pressure of these he may say his prayers fervently, exhibit a strong spiritual feelings, and profess for a season to “seek Christ,” and be a different man. And yet all this time his heart may never be touched at all! Take away the peculiar circumstances that affected him, and he may possibly return at once to his old ways. He sought Christ “in vain,” because he sought Him from false motives, and not with his whole heart.
   Unhappily this is not all. There is such a thing as a settled habit of resisting light and knowledge, until we seek Christ “in vain.” Scripture and experience alike prove that men may reject God until God rejects them, and will not hear their prayer. They may go on stifling their convictions, quenching the light of conscience, fighting against their own better knowledge, until God is provoked to give them over and let them alone. It is not for nothing that these words are written,—“Then shall they call upon Me, but I will not answer; they shall seek Me early, but they shall not find Me: for they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord.” (Prov. i. 28, 29.) Such cases may not be common; but they are possible, and they are sometimes seen. Some ministers can testify that they have visited people on their deathbeds who seem to seek Christ, and yet to seek in vain.
   There is no safety but in seeking Christ while He may be found, and calling on Him while He is near,—seeking Him with a true heart, and calling on Him with an honest spirit. Such seeking, we may be very sure, is never in vain. It will never be recorded of such seekers, that they “died in their sins.” He that really comes to Christ shall never be “cast out.” The Lord has solemnly declared that “He hath no pleasure in the death of him that dieth,”—and that “He delighteth in mercy.” (Ezekiel xviii. 32; Micah vii. 18.)
   We learn for another thing, how wide is the difference between Christ and the ungodly. Our Lord says to the unbelieving Jews,—“Ye are from beneath, I am from above: ye are of this world, I am not of this world.”
   These words, no doubt, have a special application to our Lord Jesus Christ Himself. In the highest and most literal sense, there never was but One who could truly say, “I am from above,—I am not of this world.” That One is He who came forth from the Father, and was before the world,—even the Son of God.
   But there is a lower sense, in which these words are applicable to all Christ’s living members. Compared to the thoughtless multitude around them, they are “from above,” and “not of this world,” like their Master. The thoughts of the ungodly are about things beneath; the true Christian’s affections are set on things above. The ungodly man is full of this world; its cares, and pleasures, and profits, absorb his whole attention. The true Christian, though in the world, is not of it; his citizenship is in heaven, and his best things are yet to come.
   The true Christian will do well never to forget this line of demarcation. If he loves his soul, and desires to serve God, he must be content to find himself separated from many around him by a gulf that cannot be passed. He may not like to seem peculiar and unlike others; but it is the certain consequence of grace reigning within him. He may find it brings on him hatred, ridicule, and hard speeches; but it is the cup which his Master drank, and of which his Master forewarned all His disciples.—“If ye were of the world the world would love His own, but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you.” (John xv. 19.)—Then let the Christian never be ashamed to stand alone and show his colors. He must carry the cross if he would wear the crown. If he has within him a new principle “from above,” it must be seen.
   We learn, lastly, how awful is the end to which unbelief can bring man. Our Lord says to his enemies, “If ye believe not that I am He, ye shall die in your sins.”
   These solemn words are invested with peculiar solemnity when we consider from whose lips they came. Who is this that speaks of men dying “in their sins,” unpardoned, unforgiven, unfit to meet God,—of men going into another world with all their sins upon them? He that says this is no other than the Saviour of mankind, who laid down His life for His sheep,—the loving, gracious, merciful, compassionate Friend of sinners. It is Christ Himself! Let this simple fact not be overlooked.
   They are greatly mistaken who suppose that it is harsh and unkind to speak of hell and future punishment. How can such people get over such language as that which is before us? How can they account for many a like expression which our Lord used, and specially for such passages as those in which He speaks of the “worm that dieth not, and the fire that is not quenched”? (Mark x. 46.) They cannot answer these questions. Misled by a false charity and a morbid amiability, they are condemning the plain teaching of the Scripture, and are wise above that which is written.
   Let us settle it in our minds, as one of the great foundation truths of our faith, that there is a hell. Just as we believe firmly that there is an eternal heaven for the godly, so let us believe firmly that there is an eternal hell for the wicked. Let us never suppose that there is any lack of charity in speaking of hell. Let us rather maintain that it is the highest love to warn men plainly of danger, and to beseech them to “flee from the wrath to come.” It was Satan, the deceiver, murderer, and liar, who said to Eve in the beginning, “Ye shall not surely die.” (Gen. iii. 4.) To shrink from telling men, that except they believe they will “die in their sins,” may please the devil, but surely it cannot please God.
   Finally, let us never forget that unbelief is the special sin that ruins men’s souls. Had the Jews believed on our Lord, all manner of sin and blasphemy might have been forgiven them. But unbelief bars the door in mercy’s face, and cuts off hope. Let us watch and pray hard against it. Immorality slays its thousands, but unbelief its tens of thousands. One of the strongest sayings ever used by our Lord was this,—“He that believeth not shall be damned.” (Mark xvi. 16.)

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007).

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

Those of you who reject the regulative principle might want to reconsider after you’ve visited Whitetail Chapel (HT: Phil Johnson). I’ve heard of nude church before, but now that I’ve seen it, well . . .

That the Whitetail Chapel “worshippers” could use a good theological and ecclesiastical spanking is obvious, but I doubt it would do any good. At the very least, though, considering the conditions of those represented in the video (rated PG, by the way) — and I do realize that this is a completely superficial observation — perhaps they would benefit from a visit from my favorite Norwegian, Stan Boreson.