We all know, don’t we, that the puritans hated sex and considered it to be exceedingly sinful. After all, that is what “puritanical” means, isn’t it? Well . . . maybe not. According to Leland Ryken, that attitude belongs to the Roman Catholics, particularly during the middle ages. Rome taught that sex, although less sinful for some than the alternatives, was always sinful, not in the act itself, but in the driving passions and resulting pleasure. This view was held by no less than our beloved Augustine, who commended married couples who abstained from sex!

The Puritans rejected that attitude wholeheartedly, and made no secret of their opposing view. Ryken writes that “When a New England wife complained, first to her pastor, and then to the whole congregation, that her husband was neglecting their sex life, the church proceeded to excommunicate the man.” [Worldly Saints, 39.]

Catholic doctrine had declared virginity superior to marriage; the Puritan reply was that marriage “is a state . . . Far more excellent than the condition of single life.” Many Catholic commentators claimed that sexual intercourse had been the resultof the Fall and did not occur in Paradise; the Puritan comeback was that marriage was ordained by God, “and that not in this sinful world, but in paradise, that most joyful garden of pleasure.”
   . . .
   Given the Catholic background against which they wrote and preached, the Puritans’ praise of marriage was at the same time an implicit endorsement of marital sex as good. They elaborated that point specifically and often. This becomes clearer once we are clued into the now-outdated terms by which they customarily referred to sexual intercourse: “matrimonial duty,” “cohabitation,” “act of matrimony,” and (especially) “due benevolence.”
   Everywhere we turn in Puritan writing on the subject we find sex affirmed as good in principle. [William] Gouge referred to physical union as “one of the most proper and essential acts of marriage.” It was Milton’s opinion that the text “they shall be one flesh” (Gen. 2:24) was included in the Bible

to justify and make legitimate the rites of the marriage bed; which was not unneedful, if for all this warrant they were suspected of pollution by some sects of philosophy and religions of old, and latelier among the Papists.

William Ames listed as one of the duties of marriage “mutual communication of bodies.”
   So closely linked were the ideas of marriage and sex that the Puritans usually defined marriage partly in terms of sexual union. [William] Perkins defined marriage as “the lawful conjunction of the two married persons; that is, of one man and one woman into one flesh.” Another well-known definition was this: Marriage

is a coupling together of two persons into one flesh, according to the ordinance of God. . . . By yoking, joining, or coupling is meant, not only outward dwelling together of the married folks . . . but also an uniform agreement of mind and a common participation of body and goods.

   Married sex was not only legitimate in the Puritan view; it was meant to be exuberant. Gouge said that married couples should engage in sex “with good will and delight, willingly, readily, and cheerfully.” An anonymous Puritan claimed that when two are made one by marriage they

may joyfully give due benevolence one to the other; as two musical instruments rightly fitted do make a most pleasant and sweet harmony in a well tuned consort.

Alexander Niccholes theorized that in marriage “thou not only unitest unto thyself a friend and comfort for society, but also a companion for pleasure.”
   In this acceptance of physical sex, the Puritans once again rejected the asceticism and implicit dualism between sacred and secular that had governed Christian thinking for so long. In the Puritan view, God had given the physical world, including sex, for human welfare.

—Leland Ryken, Worldly Saints: The Puritans as They Really Were (Academie Books, 1986), 42, 43–44.

This is a review by Pastor Jerry Drebelbis, who has the dubious distinction of being my pastor.

Augustine As Mentor: A Review
By Jerome Drebelbisi

   Take a moment and peruse the number of books written by or about Aurelius Augustine, or Augustine of Hippo, 354–430 A.D. One reason for the numerous volumes is, in part, because Augustine, himself, was a prolific writer. More than 100 books along with sermons, letters and notes to friends and fellow church compatriots are attributed to him. So it is no wonder the copious number of books written about Augustine. Among these writings Edward Smithers, assistant professor of Church History and Intercultural Studies at Liberty Baptist Theological Seminary, brings us another perspective — Augustine as Mentor, A Model for Preparing Spiritual Leaders1.
   Mr. Smithers believes that “many pastors today . . . are struggling in isolation without a pastor to nurture their souls” (p. v). He is not alone in this concern. Anderson and Reese emphasize this same problem in the forward of their writing. We live in a world of “disenchantment with ‘knowledge for knowledge’s sake.’”2 If this spiritual isolation impacts church leaders today then what is the solution to escape the dilemma? Augustine as Mentor attempts to address this issue looking back at the beginning of the Church and one of its giants as a leader.

Analysis:
   The book divides into six chapters. Chapter one examines biblical examples of mentors in the first century. While the author admits that the word “mentor” is not in Scripture he does recognize the discipline can take other forms, such as that of discipling. He uses Jesus and Paul as primary examples of those who mentored/discipled those around them. Numerous New Testament references are given to support the position.
   Chapter two unpacks mentoring as it appeared in the third and fourth centuries. The author, with copious references, details the lives of men like Cyprian of Carthage, Pachomius of Egypt, and Basil. These men and others formed in the author’s view a backdrop and example from which Augustine developed his own style of mentoring.
   Chapter three asks the question, who was Augustine’s mentor? Obviously some time is spent examining the way Augustine’s mother, Monica, influenced his spiritual development. Her example of holiness and practical faith are featured with numerous references to Confessions. The reader is then given a look at several of Augustine’s friends and companions. Alypius, Evodius and Ambrose were not only close companions to Augustine but also mentors. Smithers convincingly argues that while he finds that Augustine wrote very little about Valerius, Augustine’s predecessor, Valerius was his most “significant mentor.”3
   Chapter four, the longest chapter — 88 pages, brings the work to a climax. How did Augustine mentor others? The author draws from Augustine’s forty years in the ministry, 391–430, with citings from his numerous letters, books and preaching and supervisory method as examples of how Augustine discipled both subordinates and fellow bishops.
   Chapter five gives us Augustine’s thoughts on the subject. Once again from abundant references, the reader is given Augustine’s perspective of how a mentor should live and work. Five principles are mentioned as the framework of a mentor’s life. This leaves the reader wondering if Augustine, himself, adhered to his own ideals. The author answers the question by quoting Possidius, Augustine’s friend and biographer; “I believe, however, that they profited even more who were able to hear him speaking in church and seeing him there present, especially if they were familiar with his manner of life.”4 In specific, Augustine lived what he preached and proclaimed. As great a man as Augustine was the author does admit that one failure, if we can consider it such, in Augustine’s life was that few, if any, of his disciples followed in Augustine’s example to defend the church from heresy or to supply others with theological thought and exegesis (p. 257).
   The final sixth chapter is a short exhortation for leaders today. The author reminds the reader that a mentor must always be a disciple at heart, always learning, always growing in the faith, as did Augustine. He was disciple, mentor, leader, releaser of other into ministry, but most of all follower of Jesus Christ. The author leaves the reader with the question; “will today’s church leaders intentionally look at leadership potential around them and search for able people to outshine them?” (p. 259).

Synthesis:
   The reader can be assured that Mr. Smithers is very familiar with the subject. The book is well documented referencing many sources both from early church writings to more recent analysis. One easily moves through the author’s thoughts as he presents his arguments for discipleship and mentoring. His style, easy to follow, often opens with a question. For example, “How Did Augustine Mentor?” (p.134). The author then supports his answers by partitioning Augustine’s life into various elements to demonstrate how Augustine mentored in each one, the monastery, books, letters, councils, etc.
   While the book is well documented and thoughts expanded in an orderly fashion, progressing through the book becomes almost tedious. One wants to say, “Alright, I get the idea; let’s move on.” Unless the reader truly wants to know more about Augustine, for the average, sometimes overwhelmed, busy pastor, the book has too much detail. And while the book is true to its title, Augustine as Mentor, one wonders if Mr. Smithers is writing for the average church leader or his own colleagues.
   The last chapter, “Shepherding Shepherds Today” is only two pages. While there is benefit in knowing about mentoring in the early church, more thought and space could have been afforded to application today. Many pastors are, like this one, interested in not only the what but even more so, the so what. In the final analysis the reader wants to know what the author’s suggestions are that he has gleaned from his study. What from the author’s perspective, in twenty-first century culture, does he believe the pastor can and should pursue in depth? With this question always in mind there is a disheartening realization that the reader is given 257 pages of information but only two pages of application. The reader may have been more ably assisted if the author had balance the work more evenly.
   For example, one theologically prominent subject today is that of spiritual formation. Using Augustine’s writings the author could easily have moved into this realm of current significance. After all, is this not what Augustine was attempting to do with his contemporaries? In other words Augustine, who relied upon his biblical and theological premises, challenged heresies like Pelagianism, Arianism. How could those thoughts apply to our relativistic postmodern culture? How could Augustine’s thoughts have been organized to enhance one’s growth in spiritual formation? Answers to questions like these would have greatly enhanced the work.

1 Edward L. Smithers, Augustine as Mentor, A Model for Preparing Spiritual Leaders, B & H Publishing Group, Nashville, 2008. ↑ 

2 Keith R. Anderson and Randy D. Reese, Spiritual Mentoring: A Guide for seeking and Giving Direction (Intervarsity Press, Dowers Grove, 1999), forward. ↑ 

3 Ibid, p. 112. ↑ 

4 Ibid, p. 229. ↑ 

i Jerome Drebelbis has pastored Grace Evangelical Free Church in Beulah, North Dakota, for ten years. He is a graduate of Trinity Evangelical Divinity School with a Masters of Divinity. ↑ 

For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me. (Psalm 51:3).

It has been a long time since I have written anything. I have been doing a lot of personal reflection, and the result is this: I am a sinner, a condition from which I cannot escape. Augustine wrote, “For too little doth he love Thee, who loves any thing with Thee, which he loveth not for Thee.” I wrote on this some time ago, concluding that “I hate too little anything that I hate not for God’s sake.” This has been weighing heavily on my heart for some time now. As I examine myself, I find in my best attitudes and actions only sin. Truly, “all [my] righteousnesses are as filthy rags.”

I can hardly bear to read the books I love, for in everything I see the glaring contrast between what should be and what is. Even — or, I should say, especially — Scripture is difficult, a knife to my heart.

I know I have been given a new nature, but my flesh still clings to me, and I am so tired of carrying this rotting corps around. It is an unbearable burden, and I long for the day when I will at last be free of it.

Have I been engaging in sinful activities that would shock any of you? No, I have not; but in everything I do, no matter how good and noble, I see me. I cannot perform any good that is devoid of self. I realize that it is right and good to take pleasure in doing good, but I wonder — would I do anything good for God or man if their was no personal pleasure in it? I can’t see that I would. I do good because it, or what results from it, gives me pleasure, or saves me from the unpleasant consequences of not doing it. I avoid sin because of the misery it causes me. Me, me, me! Always me!

O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? (Romans 7:24).

All I can do is to throw myself at the foot of the cross and cry, “Here I am! Wretched, sinful, filthy, unworthy of love, mercy, and grace!” and take comfort in the fact — and it is surely a fact! — that when God looks upon me, he sees only the perfect righteousness of Christ. He does not see my sin, for it was put to death as Christ was “made to be sin for us.”

I know the day is coming “when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption,” and all that I do will spring from the righteous motives of a pure heart. Oh, for the day when that future hope will become the present reality!

“For too little doth he love Thee, who loves any thing with Thee, which he loveth not for Thee.” –Augustine

I had to read that quote from Augustine’s Confessions two or three times to really get the gist of it. When it had sunk in thoroughly, I was soundly smitten by the profound truth it expresses. If I love anything, even something that God loves, but do not love it primarily because God loves it and receives glory from it, I do not love God enough.

This does not mean that we may have no personal reasons for our love. Certainly, I love my wife because she is precious to me, and my children also. I love God for his grace and mercy. These causes of love are legitimate. However, if the only reason for my love is personal, it is not adequate. I ought to see God's glory reflected in my wife and children, and love them for Christ’s sake. I ought to see God glorified in my redemption and love him for that reason. Ultimately, God himself ought to be the object of my every affection.

As I was contemplating my love for God, something else occurred to me: hatred of sin, and my reason for hating it. Why do I hate my sin? I hate my sin because of the harm it does to me and others. It often has immediate negative consequences for me, and it separates me from fellowship with God. Almost as often, it has negative consequences for someone close to me. I hate that. That motivates me to avoid sin and discipline myself to “do better.”

But what should catalyze my hatred of sin? It is the same thing that should move me to love – the glory of God. I should hate my sin because it grieves my Father. I should hate my sin because it is an offense to my Savior. I should hate my sin because it quenches the Holy Spirit. I should hate it because it falls short of the glory of God. I should hate it because God hates it.

I hate too little anything that I hate not for God’s sake.