The Wanderer

There are few more important questions for a Christian to answer than this: “How may we grieve the Spirit?”  Charles Spurgeon answers the question with his usual penetrating insight into the mind of God and his regular piercing application to the heart of man.

I come now to the third part of my discourse, namely, THE GRIEVING OF THE SPIRIT, How may we grieve him, – what will be the sad result of grieving him – if we have grieved him, how may we bring him back again? How may we grieve the Spirit? I am now, mark you, speaking of those who love the Lord Jesus Christ. The Spirit of God is in your heart, and it is very, very easy indeed to grieve him. Sin is as easy as it is wicked. You may grieve him by impure thoughts. He cannot bear sin. If you indulge in lascivious expressions, or if even you allow imagination to doat upon any lascivious act, or if your heart goes after covetousness, if you set your heart upon anything that is evil, the Spirit of God will be grieved, for thus I hear him speaking of himself. “I love this man, I want to have his heart, and yet he is entertaining these filthy lusts. His thoughts, instead of running after me, and after Christ, and after the Father, are running after the temptations that are in the world through lust.” And then his Spirit is grieved. He sorrows in his soul because he knows what sorrow these things must bring to our souls. We grieve him yet more if we indulge in outward acts of sin. Then is he sometimes so grieved that he takes his flight for a season, for the dove will not dwell in our hearts if we take loathsome carrion in there. A cleanly being is the dove, and we must not strew the place which the dove frequents with filth and mire, if we do he will fly elsewhere. If we commit sin, if we openly bring disgrace upon our religion, if we tempt others to go into iniquity by our evil example, it is not long before the Holy Spirit will begin to grieve. Again, if we neglect prayer, if our closet door is cob-webbed, if we forget to read the Scriptures, if the leaves of our Bible are almost stuck together by neglect, if we never seek to do any good in the world, if we live merely for ourselves and not to Christ, then the Holy Spirit will be grieved, for thus he saith, “They have forsaken me, they have left the fountain of waters, they have hewn unto themselves broken cisterns.” I think I now see the Spirit of God grieving, when you are sitting down to read a novel and there is your Bible unread. Perhaps you take down some book of travels, and you forget that you have got a more precious book of travels in the Acts of the Apostles, and in the story of your blessed Lord and Master. You have no time for prayer, but the Spirit sees you very active about worldly things, and having many hours to spare for relaxation and amusement. And then he is grieved because he sees that you love worldly things better than you love him. His spirit is grieved within him; take care that he does not go away from you, for it will be a pitiful thing for you if he leaves you to yourself. Again, ingratitude tends to grieve him. Nothing cuts a man to the heart more, than after having done his utmost for another, he turns round and repays him with ingratitude or insult. If we do not want to be thanked, at least we do love to know that there is thankfulness in the heart upon which we have conferred a boon, and when the Holy Spirit looks into our soul and sees little love to Christ, no gratitude to him for all he has done for us, then is he grieved.

Again, the Holy Spirit is exceedingly grieved by our unbelief. When we distrust the promise he bath given and applied, when we doubt the power or the affection of our blessed Lord. then the Spirit saith within himself – “They doubt my fidelity, they distrust my power, they say Jesus is not able to save unto the uttermost;” thus again is the Spirit grieved. Oh, I wish the Spirit had an advocate here this morning, that could speak in better terms than I can. I have a theme that overmasters me, I seem to grieve for him; but I cannot make you grieve, nor tell out the grief I feel. In my own soul I keep saying, “Oh, this is just what you have done – you have grieved him.” Let me make a full and frank confession even before you all. I know that too often, I as well as you have grieved the Holy Spirit. Much within us has made that sacred dove to mourn, and my marvel is, that he has not taken his flight from us and left us utterly to ourselves.

Now suppose the Holy Spirit is grieved, what is the effect produced upon us? When the Spirit is grieved first, he bears with us. He is grieved again and again, and again and again, and still he bears with it all. But at last, his grief becomes so excessive, that he says, “I will suspend my operations; I will begone; I will leave life behind me, but my own actual presence I will take away.” And when the Spirit of God goes away from the soul and suspends all his operations what a miserable state we are in. He suspends his instructions; we read the word, we cannot understand it; we go to our commentaries, they cannot tell us the meaning; we fall on our knees and ask to be taught, but we get no answer, we learn nothing. He suspends his comfort; we used to dance, like David before the ark, and now we sit like Job in the ash-pit, and scrape our ulcers with a potsherd. There was a time when his candle shone round about us, but now he is gone; he has left us in the blackness of darkness. Now, he takes from us all spiritual power. Once we could do all things; now we can do nothing. We could slay the Philistines, and lay them heaps upon heaps, but now Delilah can deceive us, and our eyes are put out and we are made to grind in the mill. We go preaching, and there is no pleasure in preaching, and no good follows it. We go to our tract distributing, and our Sunday-school, we might almost as well be at home. There is the machinery there, but there is no love. There is the intention to do good, or perhaps not even that, but alas! there is no power to accomplish the intention. The Lord has withdrawn himself, his light, his joy, his comfort, his spiritual power, all are gone. And then all our graces flag. Our graces are much like the flower called the Hydrangia, when it has plenty of water it blooms, but as soon as moisture fails, the leaves drop down at once. And so when the Spirit goes away, faith shuts up its flowers; no perfume is exhaled. Then the fruit of our love begins to rot and drops from the tree; then the sweet buds of our hope become frostbitten, and they die. Oh, what a sad thing it is to lose the Spirit. Have you never, my brethren, been on your knees and have been conscious that the Spirit of God was not with you, and what awful work it has been to groan, and cry, and sigh, and yet go away again, and no light to shine upon the promises, not so much as a ray of light through the chink of the dungeon. All forsaken, forgotten, and forlorn, you are almost driven to despair. You sing with Cowper:-

“What peaceful hours I once enjoyed,
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching void,
The world can never fill.

Return, thou sacred dove, return,
Sweet messenger of rest,
I hate the sins that made thee mourn,
And drove thee from my breast.

The dearest idol I have known,
Whate’er that idol be,
Help me to tear it from its throne,
And worship only thee.”

Ah! sad enough it is to have the Spirit drawn from us. But, my brethren, I am about to say something with the utmost charity, which, perhaps, may look severe, but, nevertheless, I must say it. The churches of the present day are very much in the position of those who have grieved the Spirit of God; for the Spirit deals with churches just as it does with individuals. Of these late years how little has God wrought in the midst of his churches. Throughout England, at least some four or five years ago, an almost universal torpor had fallen upon the visible body of Christ. There was a little action, but it was spasmodic; there was no real vitality. Oh! how few sinners were brought to Christ, how empty had our places of worship become; our prayer-meetings were dwindling away to nothing, and our church meetings were mere matters of farce. You know right well that this is the case with many London churches to this day; and there be some that do not mourn about it. They go up to their accustomed place, and the minister prays, and the people either sleep with their eyes or else with their hearts, and they go out, and there is never a soul saved. The pool of baptism is seldom stirred; but the saddest part of all is this, the churches are willing to have it so. They are not earnest to get a revival of religion. We have been doing something, the church at large has been doing something. I will not just now put my finger upon what the sin is, but there has been something done which has driven the Spirit of God from us. He is grieved, and he is gone. He is present with us here, I thank his name, he is still visible in our midst. He has not left us. Though we have been as unworthy as others, yet has he given us a long outpouring of his presence. These five years or more, we have had a revival which is not to be exceeded by any revival upon the face of the earth. Without cries or shoutings, without fallings down or swooning, steadily God adds to this church numbers upon numbers, so that your minister’s heart is ready to break with very joy when he thinks how manifestly the Spirit of God is with us. But brethren, we must not be content with this, we want to see the Spirit poured out on all churches. Look at the great gatherings that there were in St. Paul’s, and Westminster Abbey, and Exeter Hall, and other places, how was it that no good was done, or so very little? I have watched with anxious eye, and I have never from that day forth heard but of one conversion, and that in St. James’ Hall, from all these cervices. Strange it seems. The blessing may have come in larger measure than we know, but not in so large a measure as we might have expected, if the Spirit of God had been present with all the ministers. Oh would that we may live to see greater things than we have ever seen yet. Go home to your houses, humble yourselves before God, ye members of Christ’s church, and cry aloud that he will visit his church, and that he would open the windows of heaven and pour out his grace upon his thirsty hill of Zion, that nations may be born in a day, that sinners may be saved by thousands – that Zion may travail and may bring forth children. Oh! there are signs and tokens of a coming revival. We have heard but lately of a good work among the Ragged School boys of St. Giles’s, and our soul has been glad on account of that; and the news from Ireland comes to us like good tidings, not from a far country, but from a sister province of the kingdom. Let us cry aloud to the Holy Spirit, who is certainly grieved with his church, and let us purge our churches of everything that is contrary to his Word and to sound doctrine, and then the Spirit will return, and his power shall be manifest.

And now, in conclusion, there may be some of you here who have lost the visible presence of Christ with you; who have in fact so grieved the Spirit that he has gone. It is a mercy for you to know that the Spirit of God never leaves his people finally; he leaves them for chastisement, but not for damnation. He sometimes leaves them that they may get good by knowing their own weakness, but he will not leave them finally to perish. Are you in a state of backsliding, declension, and coldness? Hearken to me for a moment, and God bless the words. Brother, stay not a moment in a condition so perilous; be not easy for a single second in the absence of the Holy Ghost. I beseech you use every means by which that Spirit may be brought back to you. Once more, let me tell you distinctly what the means are. Search out for the sin that has grieved the Spirit, give it up, slay that sin upon the spot; repent with tears and sighs; continue in prayer, and never rest satisfied until the Holy Ghost comes back to you. Frequent an earnest ministry, get much with earnest saints, but above all, be much in prayer to God, and let your daily cry be, “Return, return, O Holy Spirit return, and dwell in my soul.” Oh, I beseech you be not content till that prayer is heard, for you have become weak as water, and faint and empty while the Spirit has been away from you. Oh! it may be there are same here this morning with whom the Spirit has been striving during the past week. Oh yield to him, resist him not; grieve him not, but yield to him. Is he saying to you now “Turn to Christ?” Listen to him, obey him, he moves you. Oh I beseech you do not despise him. Have you resisted him many a time, then take care you do not again, for there may come a last time when the Spirit may say, “I will go unto my rest, I will not return unto him, the ground is accursed, it shall be given up to barrenness.” Oh! hear the word of the gospel, ere ye separate, for the Spirit speaketh effectually to you now in this short sentence – “Repent and be converted everyone of you, that your sins may be blotted out when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord,’’ and hear this solemn sentence, “He that believeth in the Lord Jesus and is baptized, shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned.” May the Lord grant that we may not grieve the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The second Test of the 2009 Lions tour to South Africa began a few minutes ago – a must-win match.  One of the questions being asked is about the quality of the leadership on the field, both with regard to the captaincy and the standard being set by key men in key positions.

In 1997, the Lions won their tour to South Africa 2-1.  The captain on that occasion was Martin Johnson, now England coach.  Earlier today, former Wales number eight Scott Quinnell – himself a man of mental and physical strength – was asked about Johnson’s captaincy:

People ask me what sort of leader Martin Johnson was – if he asked me to run through a wall now, I’d just go and do it. He’d have made it easy, really, there’d be a big hole where he’d already gone through before.

Is there not at least a faint reflection there of the leadership supplied by the Captain of our salvation?  Is this not the kind of leadership that men of God ought to be supplying in the church today?  And do we not need men and women ready to follow such leaders through the holes that they are willing to make, even at great cost to themselves?

Martin Downes points us to several superb series of sermons delivered at the English-speaking Aberystwyth conferences of the Evangelical Movement of Wales in past years.

From 1996, Sinclair Ferguson on Ruth:

• Ruth 1
• Ruth 2
• Ruth 3
• Ruth 4

From 1993, Ted Donnelly on the servant of the Lord (Isaiah 53):

• Servant of the Lord 1
• Servant of the Lord 2
• Servant of the Lord 3
• Servant of the Lord 4

From 2001, Ted Donnelly on union with Christ (see also here):

• Believing Into Christ (Romans 5:12-21)
• We Who Died To Sin (Romans 6:1-23)
• All One In Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:10-29)
• The Fellowship Of His Sufferings (Philippians 3:1-16)

Please note: If you download the sermons you are allowed to make one copy for your personal use. Please don’t redistribute copies of these sermons without first asking permission.

This looks fascinating.

The table of contents and introduction are available online.

John Frame says:

My colleague Richard Gamble has begun a very comprehensive theological project, embracing the disciplines of biblical theology, historical theology, and systematic theology. Nothing comparable in scope has been done in the last hundred years, within the circles of Reformed orthodoxy. Knowing Rick, and having read some of the first volume, I’m convinced that he is the man to do this job. With a doctorate from the University of Basel and an international reputation as a Calvin scholar, Rick has a formidable grasp of theological issues. His theological convictions are thoroughly biblical and Reformed. He’s also a humble man of God who can write winsomely to the hearts of many sorts of readers. I hope this series has wide distribution and great influence in this time of theological confusion.

Richard Pratt says:

Very few people living today are as capable as Richard Gamble at grasping and expressing the theology of the entire Bible. His work represents decades of reflection on interpretive issues that have perplexed scholars for over a century. He bridges the gap so many have identified between traditional systematic theology and biblical theology. He devotes himself in helpful ways to the unity and diversity of biblical revelation. Yet, throughout this work, he penetrates beyond scholarly concerns to life issues that every believer faces. I highly recommend this book. You will be glad you read it.

The publisher is so keen that its reported description basically repeats the same points twice!

Richard Gamble offers a comprehensive theology attuned to the methodological advantages of biblical theology combined with the strengths of historical and systematic theology. Drawing on the best work in these disciplines throughout church history, he leads us in an integrated pursuit of the whole counsel of God.

This volume, the first of three, recounts God’s mighty acts in the Old Testament, disclosing the theology of the Old Testament within the progressive and historical development of the Bible. It contains a survey of the entire Old Testament with discussions of many diverse topics.

This volume, the first of three, recounts God’s mighty acts in the Old Testament. It discloses the theology of the Old Testament within the organic, progressive, historical development of the Bible. Gamble blends a survey of the entire Old Testament with discussions of topics as diverse as the canon, days of creation, faith and reason, covenants, the Ten Commandments, Old Testament ecclesiology, the nature of God, justification, and Old Testament apologetics.

Must be good.  Not much sign of it in the UK at time of writing, but you can bag it here for now.

Martin Downes lets us know that a new edition of this classic work is being published by Christian Focus:

A dialogue between a minister of the gospel and a young Christian. Both legalism and antinomianism are perennial dangers for the church and for individual Christians. When we begin to think of the Christian life primarily as a list of ‘do’s and ‘dont’s’, we are under the sway of legalism. When we begin to think that it is okay for us to go ahead and sin because God will forgive us anyway, we are feeling the temptation of antinomianism. The Marrow of Modern Divinity proclaims a gospel that can rescue us from both of these dangers.

After many years of being out of print this work is coming back in a clearly laid out edition, with explanatory notes by Thomas Boston and an introduction by Philip Ryken.  He has been blogging Boston for those who want more.

Martin also reminds us of a series of addresses on the neglected but vitally important pastoral issues in the Marrow controversy by Sinclair Ferguson.  I can heartily second Martin’s recommendation.

My friend at Grace Gems recently sent out this sobering reminder from the letters of John Newton.  It is worth our while to remember in these days of activism in which we can lose our way all too easily.  Newton does not deny that God makes us part of particular nation-states, but he does remind us of where our primary attachment belongs.  A robust perspective on our citizenship in heaven best equips us to do lasting earthly good.  This is very much of a piece with Spurgeon’s words that I posted a few days ago.

Dear friend,

Allow me to say, that it excites both my wonder and concern, that a Christian minister such as yourself, should think it worth his while to attempt political reforms.  When I look around upon the present state of the nation, such an attempt appears to me, to be no less vain and foolish, than it would be to paint the cabin – while the ship is sinking! Or to decorate the parlour – while the house is on fire!

When our Lord Jesus was upon earth, He refused to get involved in disputes or politics, “Friend, who appointed Me a judge or arbitrator over you?” Luke 12:14. “My kingdom is not of this world! If My kingdom were of this world, My servants would fight!” John 18:36. God’s children belong to a kingdom which is not of this world; they are strangers and pilgrims upon earth, and a part of their Scriptural character is, that they are the “quiet in the land.” Psalm 35:19.

Satan has many contrivances to amuse people, and to divert their thoughts from their real danger!

My dear sir, my prayer to God for you is – that He may induce you to employ the talents He has given you, in pointing out sin as the great cause and source of every existing evil; and to engage those who love and fear Him, (instead of wasting time in political speculations, for which very few of them are competent,) to sigh and cry for our abounding abominations, and to stand in the breach, by prayer, that God’s wrath may yet be averted, and our national mercies prolonged! This, I think, is the true patriotism – the best way in which people in private life may serve their country.

I consider the ungodly as saws and hammers in the hand of the Lord. So far as they are His instruments, they will succeed – but not an inch further! Their wrath shall praise Him, and be subservient to His designs!

If our lot is so cast that we can exercise our ministry free from stripes, fines, imprisonments, and death – it is more than the gospel has promised to us! If Christians were quiet when under the cruel governments of Nero and other wicked persecutors, when they were hunted down like wild beasts – then we ought to be not only quiet but very thankful now! It was then accounted an honour to suffer for Christ and the ‘offence of the cross’!

Those are to be greatly pitied, who boast of their ‘liberty’ – and yet they do not consider that they are in the most deplorable bondage – the slaves of sin and Satan, under the curse of God’s law and His eternal wrath! Oh! for a voice to reach their hearts, that they may know their true and dreadful state–and seek deliverance from their horrific thraldom! May you and I labour to direct them to the one thing, which is absolutely needful, and abundantly sufficient.

If I had the wisdom or influence to soothe the angry passions of mankind – I would gladly employ them! But I am a stranger and a pilgrim here in this world. My charter, my rights and my treasures, are all in heaven – and there my heart ought to be. In a very short time, I may be removed (and perhaps suddenly) into the unseen and eternal world – where all that now causes so much bustle upon earth – will be of no more importance to me – than the events which took place among the antediluvians!

In the hour, when death shall open the door into eternity – many things which now assume an ‘air of importance’, will be found as light and unsubstantial as a child’s dream!

How crucial then, is it for me–to be found watching, with my lamp burning, diligently engaged in my proper calling! For the Lord has not called me to set governments right – but to preach the gospel, to proclaim the glory of His name, and to endeavor to win souls! “Let the dead bury their own dead – but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God!” Luke 9:60. Happy is that servant, whom his Master finds so doing, when He returns!

As you have forced me to respond – both duty and love have obliged me to be faithful and free in giving you my thoughts.

I recommend you to the care and blessing of the great Shepherd and Saviour; and remain for His sake, your affectionate friend and brother,

John Newton

One of my great delights is the beauty, range and power of the human voice.  These two videos, posted independently on a couple of sites over the last few days, demonstrate – in slightly different ways – why the human voice is well-qualified to be our primary instrument in the worship of God.  This is, of course, not a plea for mere performance in worship, either by a ‘choir’ or any individual, nor a recommendation about styles of worship.

However, anything which detracts from or overpowers – rather than guides and assists – the congregation united in vocal praise is, to my mind, unhelpful.  The voice can do so much if it is allowed to do so.

The Shepherd’s Fellowship quote Spurgeon to remind us that even when we are building our relationships with friends and neighbours, we must remember for what and for whom we are working.  Spurgeon delivered these words in a sermon in 1884.  I feel precisely the same temptations today, as a Christian and as an evangelist: it is always at the point of speaking about Jesus that my gospel intentionality fizzles out.  Spurgeon calls me back to where I ought to be.

You [as preachers] have nothing else to employ as the means of good, except the salvation of Jesus, and there is nothing else worth telling.

I heard of a congregation the other day that was so very small that hardly any one came to listen to the preacher. Instead of blaming himself, and preaching better, the minister said he thought he was not doing much good by sermons and prayer-meetings, and therefore he would found a club, and if the fellows came in, and played draughts, that might do them good. What a lot of that sort of thing is now being tried! We are going to convert souls on a new system,—are we? Are we also to have a substitute for bread?—and healthier drink than pure water?  . . .

[T]o hope ever to bring sinners to holiness and heaven by any teaching but that which begins and ends in Jesus Christ is a sheer delusion. None other name is given among men whereby they can be saved. If you have to deal with highly learned and educated people, nothing is so good for them as preaching Jesus Christ; and if the people be ignorant and degraded, nothing is better for them than the preaching of Jesus.

A young man said to another the other day, “I am going down to preach at So-and-so, what sort of people are they there? What kind of doctrine will suit them?” Having heard of the question, I gave this advice,—”You preach Jesus Christ, and that will suit them, I am sure, if they are learned people it will suit them; if they are ignorant it will suit them—God blessing it.”

When the great Biblical critic, Bengel, was dying, he sent for a young theological student, to whom he said, “I am low in spirit; say something good to cheer me.” “My dear Sir,” said the student, “I am so insignificant a person, what can I say to a great man like yourself?” “But if you are a student of theology,” said Bengel, “you ought to have a good word to say to a dying man; pray say it without fear.” “Well, Sir,” said he, “What can I say to you, but that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin?” Bengel said, “Give me your hand, young man; that is the very word I wanted.”

A simple gospel text is the word which every man needs who is in fear of divine wrath, and he may be sitting next to you at this moment, or he is in the same house of business with you, and needs that you should tell him about Christ. Do that, and bless his soul. May you all understand the Scriptures in this way, and may God make you a great blessing to those around you.

Justin Taylor points us to the Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary’s blog, Between the Times, where Professor Bruce Ashford has an outstanding series on disciplined reading.  Here are the five parts of the series:

1. On Disciplined Reading
2. What Should I Read? Choosing from a Vast Array of Options
3. How Should I Read? Tips on Getting the Most from Your Reading
4. Why Should I Read? Other Advantages of Reading
5. Questions, Answers, and Concluding Thoughts

On “what” to read, he offers these principles:

1. Guard your time in the Scriptures.
2. Avoid limiting yourself by era, tribe, or category.
3. Reading the great authors is more helpful than reading a great number of books.
4. Make a list of categories and read a selected number of books each year, in each category.
5. Read a few select journals and magazines

On “how” to read, he offers these tips:

1. If you would like to become a disciplined reader, you probably need to make a plan.
2. Figure out your “reading style.”
3. Always carry a book.
4. If possible, drink and read at the same time.

On “why” to read, he suggests that reading does the following:

• sharpens the mind
• exercises the mind
• gives one something about which to converse
• allows one to “travel” to other times and places
• reduces stress
• provides an inexpensive and low maintenance form of entertainmen

In the final post, he answers questions he’s been asked throughout the series, on:

• How to find books to read
• How to find time to read
• How to choose between print and electronic media
• How to keep discipline from being drudgery
• How to retain and organize what is learned from a book

In his final post, he promises that “In the near future, I will provide suggested reading in various disciplines and genres such as theology, intellectual history, missiology, international affairs, fiction, history, and current affairs.” If you appreciate his general counsel, you may wish to keep your eye on Between the Times for the more specific advice.

David Anderson has an excellent post about the current expenses scandal among British Members of Parliament, in which he asks where all the critics of the MPs get the notion that they have done wrong, even though they are operating within the rules they have set for themselves.

Michael Haykin provides a friend with some advice on reading Andrew Fuller.  It is good advice:

Without being self-serving, I hope, begin with the Armies of the Lamb. There is nothing like getting into a figure by reading his letters.

Then I would suggest his circular letters, those written for the Northamptonshire Association, in chronological order. These give you some idea of Fuller the churchman in the midst of connectional links and associational network of friends and fellow pastors.

Then read some of his sermons, especially the ones on the ministry, justification, and soteriological issues.

His Gospel Worthy of All Acceptation is his most important controversial work. After it, read his Letters on Sandemanianism.

Finally, read his Memoirs of Pearce. What he includes in that work says so much about his piety.

You can get Fuller’s Works here.

Kelvedon ∙ Stambourne ∙ Colchester ∙ Lavenham ∙ Dedham ∙ Maldon

Dedham is in the heart of ‘Constable country’ but, much as I have enjoyed Constable’s work, it was yet another preacher who carried us to Dedham.

This time it was the esteemed John Rogers, known as “Roaring Rogers,” although I discovered that the celebrated divine Matthew Newcomen, who preached several times before the House of Commons at Westminster, had also been a minister of the gospel to the church.

John Rogers was born in Essex about 1572.  He was a related to the preacher Richard Rogers of Wethersfield who provided for his education at Cambridge.  On his arrival at Cambridge the godless John twice sold his books and wasted the proceeds.  Richard Rogers would have abandoned him at this point, but for the intervention of his wife.  He therefore invested a third time in the young man, and this coincided with God’s work of grace in John Roger’s heart.  The books were therefore properly employed, and Rogers became a credit to his college and a model of holiness.  Richard Rogers later said, “I will never despair of any man, for John Roger’s sake.”  In 1592 John Rogers became vicar of Honingham, Norfolk, and in 1603 succeeded Lawrence Fairclough as vicar of Haverhill, Suffolk.

In 1605 he was translated to Dedham where he became the lecturer (not the vicar).  This important distinction probably arose from distrust of or incompetence among the clergy when people desired faithful preaching.  Private enterprise entered the arena, and some communities employed a lecturer alongside the vicar.  This was Rogers’ office, and the practice continued until 1918, when the two roles of vicar and lecturer were combined.  Rogers was required to deliver two lectures weekly: one at 8.00am on a Tuesday (before the market started at 9.00am) and one on Sunday afternoon.

For over thirty years Rogers discharged his duty faithfully, having a reputation as “one of the most awakening preachers of the age.”  His gift lay in his distinctive delivery of the sound and careful sermons which he prepared, and so well-known did Rogers and his preaching become that godly people used to say to one another, “Let us go to Dedham to fetch fire.”  Cotton Mather reports a saying of Ralph Brownrig that Rogers would “do more good with his wild notes that we with our set music.”

People would travel the 60 miles from Cambridge on horseback just for the privilege of hearing Rogers speak God’s truth.  When he preached the church building would be crowded, with those who could not enter thronging outside.  In fine weather he preached from the top of the North Porch to a congregation of over 1000 people.  This was no flash in the pan.  At the west end of the church spacious galleries were erected which spanned the whole breadth of the nave and the aisles up to the second pier.  Looking up now, the visitor can still see initials cut out upon the backs of the pillars (some sort of holy graffiti?).  The galleries themselves were removed in the restoration work of 1862.

Rogers’ life was not without troubles.  His lecture was supressed from 1629 till 1631, on the ground of his nonconformity.  His subsequent compliance was not strict.  Giles Firmin, one of his converts, “never saw him wear a surplice,” and he only occasionally used the prayer-book, and then repeated portions of it from memory.

Several well-known anecdotes capture something of the fervency and fire of Rogers the preacher, his self-forgetful earnestness in the pulpit.  Thomas Goodwin, himself to become a renowned preacher and scholar, went to hear Rogers preach before he was converted, not imagining that anyone would be able to touch his conscience.  Goodwin reported his experience to John Howe, who recorded it in this way:

He told me that being himself, in the time of his youth, a student at Cambridge, and having heard much of Mr. Rogers of Dedham, in Essex, purposely he took a journey from Cambridge to Dedham to hear him preach on his lecture day.  And in that sermon he falls into an expostulation with the people about their neglect of the Bible [I am afraid it is more neglected in our days]; he personates God to the people, telling them, “Well, I have trusted you so long with my Bible; you have slighted it; it lies in such and such houses all covered with dust and cobwebs.  You care not to look into it.  Do you use my Bible so?  Well, you shall have my Bible no longer.”  And he takes up the Bible from his cushion, and seemed as if he were going away with it, and carrying it from them; but immediately turns again and personates the people to God, falls down on his knees, cries and pleads most earnestly, “Lord, whatsoever thou cost to us, take not thy Bible from us; kill our children, burn our houses, destroy our goods; only spare us thy Bible, only take not away thy Bible.”  And then he personates God again to the people: “Say you so?  Well, I will try you a little longer; and here is my Bible for you, I will see how you will use it, whether you will love it more, whether you will value it more, whether you will observe it more, whether you will practice it more, and live more according to it.”  But by these actions [as the Doctor told me] he put all the congregation into so strange a posture that he never saw any congregation in his life.  The place was a mere Bochim, the people generally [as it were] deluged with their own tears; and he told me that he himself when he got out, and was to take horse again to be gone, was fain to hang a quarter of an hour upon the neck of his horse weeping, before he had power to mount, so strange an impression was there upon him, and generally upon the people, upon having been thus expostulated with for the neglect of the Bible.

While that was not the time of Goodwin’s conversion, it is evident that his thoughts of hardheartedness did not stand the test of Roger’s Spirit-empowered preaching.  Another eye witness of John Rogers’ ministry was John Angier, who was under Rogers’ supervision for a period while he completed his preparation for the ministry.  Angier recalled how a sense of the greatness of eternal issues would at times overcome the crowded church at Dedham; on one such occasion Rogers took hold of the supports of the canopy over the pulpit with both hands “roaring hideously to represent the torments of the damned.”  At another time when Rogers was taking a wedding service he preached on the necessity of the wedding garment: “God made the word so effectual that the marriage solemnity was turned into bitter mourning, so that the ministers who were at the marriage were employed in comforting or advising those whose consciences had been awakened by that sermon.”

Rogers died on 18 October 1636.  Hundreds flocked to the funeral service, at which John Knowles preached.  That substantial gallery was so overladen with people that it almost collapsed.  According to an eye-witness, it pleased God to honour that good man with a miracle at his death, because no one was injured.

He was buried in the churchyard at Dedham, outside the north chancel wall.  His gravestone is almost obliterated, and – when I visited – was propping up the scaffolding being employed in external repairs.  One would hope that the memory of John Rogers would contribute something far more substantial to the support of the church.  Inside the building is a monument, an engraved portrait, showing  a worn man dressed in nightcap, ruff, and with a full beard.  The Latin inscription includes these words:

True-hearted worshipper of God
No Boanerges more courageously
Gave forth his thunder, and no Barnabas
The word of consolation sweetlier.

My father has been reading the works of Robert Hall Jr.  He was a curious cove to say the least (Hall, that is, as opposed to my father), brilliant and insightful in some respects and decidedly aberrant and unorthodox in others.  Here are two of his maxims, tending toward the helpful end of the scale.

• Do a thing well, whatever it may be, and then learn to do it in the least possible time.
• Whatever bad habit you have acquired, practise the opposite, and you will soon find the good principle increase from the exercise.

The JollyBlogger turns to Umberto Eco to encourage all those who “can’t bring yourself to walk by a bookstore or browse an on-line catalog without buying at least something, and who also know good and well that you aren’t going to read everything you buy, at least right now.”  It should be noted that anything which encourages such individuals has a tendency to produce grief and pain in the hearts of their nearest and dearest.  We are informed in the introduction of part one of The Black Swan by Nassim Nicholas Taleb:

The writer Umberto Eco belongs to that small class of scholars who are encyclopedic, insightful, and nondull. He is the owner of a large personal library (containing thirty thousand books), and separates visitors into two categories: those who react with “Wow! Signore professore dottore Eco, what a library you have! How many of these books have you read?” and the others — a very small minority — who get the point that a private library is not an ego-boosting appendage but a research tool. Read books are far less valuable than unread ones. The library should contain as much of what you do not know as your financial means, mortgage rates, and the currently tight real-estate market allow you to put there. You will accumulate more knowledge and more books as you grow older, and the growing number of unread books on the shelves will look at you menacingly. Indeed, the more you know, the larger the rows of unread books. Let us call this collection of unread books an antilibrary.

I knew it was OK . . .

Guy Prentiss Waters offers a historical, exegetical and theological assessment of N. T. Wright’s latest work on justification.  Here is his conclusion:

Justification: God’s Plan and Paul’s Vision is the most comprehensive and current statement of N. T. Wright on justification to date. Justification is largely a restatement of Wright’s views, with some amplification and rhetorical refinement. It is not a detailed textual and theological interaction with his Reformational readers’ concerns and objections. To the degree that Justification summarizes and synthesizes nearly three decades of Wright’s publications on justification, the book is useful to the student of Wright’s work. To the degree that Justification has failed to engage criticisms of Wright’s formulations on justification in such a way as to advance the discussion, the work is a missed opportunity. What is clear from Justification is that the fundamental concern of Wright’s Reformational readers remains unallayed and firmly in place: Wright’s views on justification have parted company with the teaching of the apostle Paul.

Professor Waters has been at the forefront of addressing the flaws in Wright’s argument in recent years, and the whole thing is worth reading carefully (although it is, to me, the sort of piece that is easier to read on the printed page than in the distracting environs of the interweb).

John Piper has written on the difference between hero worship and holy emulation.  Kevin DeYoung has followed it up with some sane and balanced thoughts on evangelical superstardom.  I do not believe I need to make plain that these are not problems I am dealing with myself.

For those who are fans of Don Carson, or simply appreciators, or interested engagers, Andy Naselli – Carson’s full-time research assistant – has compiled for the Gospel Coalition a list of everything Carson has published.  He breaks it down into five categories:

• Books
• Articles
• Reviews
• Lyrics
• Edited Series

The collection includes some 350 free PDFs (some of them entire books, each fully searchable, retaining the original publication pagination).  You can check it out here.

If you don’t have Bibleworks 8 and would like it, Cal.vini.st is having a First Anniversary Giveaway.  Click over for the opportunity to win a copy of Bibleworks 8.

For those who may be interested, last Sunday morning I completed a series entitled Becoming and being a Christian.  Six sermons became nine in the act of preaching.  The aim was to trace the trajectory of a true Christian from new life through to death and glory, glancing briefly at some of the key way-markers along the pilgrim road.

• Looking to Jesus
• A new creation in Christ
• A true Christian (1) Inconclusive indications
• A true Christian (2) Indispensable indications #1
• A true Christian (3) Indispensable indications #2
• Biblical manhood and womanhood (1) Essential equality
• Biblical manhood and womanhood (2) Distinctive identity
• Working in and working out
• The Saviour and His servant

Kelvedon ∙ Stambourne ∙ Colchester ∙ Lavenham ∙ Dedham ∙ Maldon

Lavenham is a beautiful Suffolk village.  It is characterised by an abundance of half-timbered houses, and every street – especially those around the market place – speaks of a rich medieval and Tudor history.  Lavenham owes its prominence and wealth to the wool trade of the 15^th and 16^th centuries, which was the foundation of the fortunes of its richest and most generous benefactors.  Some of that wealth can be seen in the massive and impressive “wool church,” St Peter and St Paul, which marks out the village as one travels toward it.  The prominent tower (141 feet, or 43 metres, the highest of a village church in Britain) was known during the Second World War as “Thank God tower” to the airmen of USAAF Station 137 – flying in to Lavenham airfield on return from bombing missions, it was one of the first identifiable indications that they were safely home.

My interest in Lavenham lies in the fact that it was the place in which William Gurnall plied his holy trade.  Gurnall was the author of the magnificent volume, The Christian in Complete Armour (Banner of Truth; also in three volumes and online).  I do not underestimate the value of the book when I suggest that you should sell your second-best pair of trousers in order to become its owner.

Gurnall was born in 1617 at the thoroughly Protestant town of King’s Lynn, Norfolk.  Gurnall might well have heard godly and faithful preachers during his formative years.  Here he would also have developed that familiarity with the sea, sailors and shipping which provided the foundation for the regular appearance of nautical illustrations in his writings.

He was educated at the free grammar school of his native town, which had two scholarships to the eminently Puritan Emmanuel College, Cambridge, in its gift.  Gurnall received a nomination to one of these scholarships in December, 1631.  He graduated B.A. in 1635 and M.A. in 1639.  There is little known of him for the succeeding five years, though there is a suggestion that he officiated as curate at Subury, not far south of Lavenham.  He was made rector of Lavenham in 1644, doubtless a good living.  During the period of his service there, men such as John Owen, Stephen Marshall, and Matthew Newcomen would have been at one time or another living within twenty miles.

After the Restoration, Gurnall the Puritan nevertheless continued Gurnall the Churchman: he signed the declaration required by the Act of Uniformity 1662, remaining with the Church of England when multitudes of faithful men were turned out, unable for conscience’ sake to remain within.  The reasons are unknown.  It is plain that Gurnall’s theological sympathies were with the Puritans; his ecclesiastical commitment kept him within the Church of England.  This, surmises J. C. Ryle, probably led to his being ostracised by both sides.  Ryle also notes unsubstantiated and possibly malicious “floating traditions” that suggest that his ministry lost its power and saw little blessing after 1662.

Gurnall died on 12^th October, 1679, and was buried at Lavenham (the precise spot is not known).  The evidence suggests that he had always been a man of weak health.

The Christian in Complete Armour was first published in three volumes, dated 1655, 1658 and 1662.  It consists of sermons on Ephesians 6:10-20 delivered by Gurnall in the course of his regular ministry: in dedicating it to his hearers, he calls it “a dish from your own table ” (1:1).  All the indications are that Gurnall was an effective, earnest, appreciated minister of the gospel.  St Peter and St Paul is no mean building, and it is suggested that it would have been very full during Gurnall’s sermons.  A sixth edition of his work was published in the year he died, indicating a ready appreciation of its quality.  It is, in essence, a training manual in Christian warfare.  Weighty in every sense, Gurnall is sober, balanced and insightful, never failing to make piercing practical application of his text.  His style is relatively easy, full of illustration, well-organised, and clear, with some wonderful pithy declarations scattered throughout.

Gurnall says:

The subject of the treatise is solemn, A War between the Saint and Satan, and that so bloody a one, that the cruellest which ever was fought by men, will be found but sport and child’s play to this.  Alas, what is the killing of bodies to the destroying of souls?  It is a sad meditation indeed, to think how many thousands have been sent to the grave in a few late years among us by the sword of man; but far more astonishing, to consider how many of those may be sent to hell by the sword of God’s wrath. It is a spiritual war you shall read of, and that not a history of what was fought many ages past and is now over; but of what now is doing, the tragedy is at present acting, and that not at the furthest end of the world, but what concerns thee and every one that reads it.  The stage whereon this war is fought, is every man’s soul.  Here is no neuter in this war.  The whole world is engaged in the quarrel, either for God against Satan, or for Satan against God (1:2-3).

Charles Haddon Spurgeon commented:

Gurnall’s work is peerless and priceless; every line is full of wisdom; every sentence is suggestive.  The whole book has been preached over scores of times, and is, in our judgment, the best thought-breeder in all our library.  This ‘Complete Armour’ is beyond all others a preacher’s book: I should think that more discourses have been suggested by it than by any other uninspired volume.  I have often resorted to it when my own fire has been burning low, and I have seldom failed to find a glowing coal upon Gurnall’s hearth.  John Newton said that if he might read only one book beside the Bible, he would choose ‘The Christian in Complete Armour’, and Richard Cecil was of much the same opinion.  J. C. Ryle has said of it, ‘You will often find in a line and a half some great truth, put so concisely, and yet so fully, that you really marvel how so much thought could be got into so few words’.  Happy Lavenham, to have been served by such a pastor!

Note that at the time of writing the church has no rector.  There was no sign of Gurnall’s work in the little shop within the building (Joyce Meyer made an appearance, though!), and I hope to correct that, if I am able.  However, the sign below I found on the wall of the church.  It is a prayer that those who love the truth for which Gurnall stood and still stands might invest with the best meaning in seeking God’s continued blessing upon this church and its ministry.  You might pray that Lavenham would be made happy by another true Christian who will preach the gospel of Christ in all its saving and sanctifying excellence, and equip his people once more for the best fight in the world.

Calvin teaches us what it means to be not so much a Calvinist as a Christian in the ebb and flow of life in a fallen world.  When we read Calvin himself we find that a Calvinist is not a follower of any man, but a true disciple of Jesus the Christ and a preacher of the gospel of God’s sovereign grace.

Such a man, like Calvin, is committed to the glory of the triune Jehovah.  B. B. Warfield put it in this way: Calvinism “lies in a profound apprehension of God in His majesty, with the inevitably accompanying poignant realization of the exact nature of the relation sustained to Him by the creature as such, and particularly by the sinful creature.”[1] This is the starting point of Calvin’s Institutes: Calvin is a man captured and captivated by the triune God, and who therefore sees himself also in proper and humble perspective.  Until we perceive God accurately as revealed in Christ, our eyes opened by the Spirit, we can neither be saved nor can we serve.  When God opens our eyes, then we begin to begin to know and adore him as he is.  That believing view should once and for all bind us with humble joy to the God of our salvation, recognising that what he does, he does for his glory, and that we should live to the same end.  This understanding sets our compass for time and for eternity; it will keep us faithful.

Furthermore, such a man, like Calvin, is committed to the truth of God in the Scriptures.  Calvin recognised that God was known pre-eminently through his inscripturated revelation.  He therefore set himself to know God and to obey him as he has revealed himself and his will.  We should be instructed by Calvin’s honesty in handling the Word of God, by his readiness to submit to all its nuances, and not to impose his system on Scripture, but to have Scripture fashion his system.  Calvin is always a man under authority: where he reaches the limits of his Spirit-enlightened understanding of God’s revelation, he will not press further and trespass on what God has left unrevealed.  Rather, he will pause and worship where he cannot penetrate.  There is a wonderful integrity to his teaching on this account.  When dying, Calvin could say, “I have taught faithfully, and God has given me grace to write, which I have done faithfully as I could; and I have not corrupted [mutilated] one single passage of Scripture nor twisted it as far as I know; and when in a position to arrive at an artificial meaning through subtlety, I have put all that under my feet, and have always aimed at being simple.”[2] If this was the sincere testimony of more preachers, Christ’s church would be substantially healthier than it is.  This disposition is the fountainhead of his public ministry: he sought not only to understand and follow God’s Word for himself, but to communicate its truth with simplicity and clarity to those whom he served, and to apply the Word of God to the hearts of his hearers in all the challenges that they faced in life.

Finally, such a man, like Calvin, will be committed to the service of God.  This attitude is really the outworking of the former two.  Because God is who he is, and because we know him as revealed in Scripture for our salvation, how can we but consecrate ourselves and our all to his glory?  When we learn of Calvin’s life and labours, of his Christlike willingness to serve, and to suffer in serving, we are humbled not so much by our lack of gifts as by our failure to use what we have been given.  Calvin, having been purchased entirely by Christ, offered himself entirely to God.  Again, hear Warfield: “He who believes in God without reserve, and is determined that God shall be God to him in all his thinking, feeling, willing – in the entire compass of his life-activities, intellectual, moral, spiritual, throughout all his individual, social, religious relations – is, by the force of that strictest of all logic which presides over the outworking of principles into thought and life, by the very necessity of the case, a Calvinist.”[3]

The great Baptist preacher, Charles Spurgeon, situated the heart of Calvinism in the declaration, “Salvation is of the Lord” (Jon 2.9):

That is just an epitome of Calvinism; it is the sum and substance of it.  If anyone should ask me what I mean by a Calvinist, I should reply, “He is one who says, Salvation is of the Lord.”  I cannot find in Scripture any other doctrine than this.  It is the essence of the Bible.  “He only is my rock and my salvation.”  . . . . I have my own private opinion that there is no such thing as preaching Christ and Him crucified, unless we preach what nowadays is called Calvinism.  It is a nickname to call it Calvinism; Calvinism is the gospel, and nothing else.  I do not believe we can preach the gospel, if we do not preach justification by faith, without works; nor unless we preach the sovereignty of God in His dispensation of grace; nor unless we exalt the electing, unchangeable, eternal, immutable, conquering love of Jehovah; nor do I think we can preach the gospel, unless we base it upon the special and particular redemption of His elect and chosen people which Christ wrought out upon the cross; nor can I comprehend a gospel which lets saints fall away after they are called, and suffers the children of God to be burned in the fires of damnation after having once believed in Jesus.  Such a gospel I abhor.[4]

What is Calvinism, then, but a nickname for the biblical gospel and its right outworking in a man’s heart and life?  This being so, it should be no surprise that Calvinism is so often presented in an unbalanced caricature: Christ crucified remains a stumbling block to the self-righteous and foolishness to the would-be wise of the world (1Cor 1.21-23).  The truth of God’s word is not palatable to the unconverted man, and does not become so until God the Spirit gives him an appetite for it.  At that point the gospel is seen and known to be both the wisdom and the power of God to salvation (Rom 1.16; 1Cor 1.24): it captures the whole man, and draws him willingly to serve the God of his salvation.  This is the gospel that Calvin preached:

Let us examine ourselves closely, and inasmuch as he has come near to us out of his infinite goodness and given us the teaching about our Lord Jesus Christ his Son, who is our true light, let us make our effort to walk in the way while it is still day (Rom. 13:12-14) for fear that the night will take us by surprise and plunge us into darkness more terrible than the Papacy’s. . . . And because there is no constancy within us and we cannot continue on our own, let us learn to walk in fear and humility in obedience to our God, and let us pray that he will always guide us and strengthen us by his Holy Spirit so that we will not fail.[5]

If we would honour Calvin, then, we will not do so by parading our Calvinist credentials, parroting his name, or promoting a mere caricature of his system in our thinking and feeling and doing.  The man who insisted on being buried in an unmarked grave would not be impressed by the weak-minded adulation of a man-centred fan-base.

If we would respectfully remember Calvin, we shall do it best by praying for and seeking that same all-consuming conception of the living God of heaven and earth which always issues in the pursuit of his glory.  We shall do it by embracing the Scriptures as the infallible and inerrant rule of faith and life and living and worshipping and teaching accordingly.  We shall do it by loving the Lord our God with all our heart and soul and strength and mind, and offering ourselves as living sacrifices, holy, acceptable to God, which is our reasonable service. We shall do it not by honouring a man and simply being swallowed up in his memory, but – profiting from his teaching and example – we shall do it by honouring his God and ours, and by preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ in all its full-orbed and biblical splendour.

[2] Quoted by Robert Reymond, John Calvin: His Life and Influence (Ross-shire: Christian Focus, 2004), 129.

[3] Benjamin B. Warfield, “Calvinism” in Works (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1991), 5:354-5.

[4] Charles H. Spurgeon, “A Defence of Calvinism” in Autobiography (Pasadena, TX: Pilgrim Publications, 1992), 1:172.

[5] John Calvin, “38: The Penalty for Idolatry” in Sermons on the Acts of the Apostles (Chapters1-7), trans. Rob Roy McGregor (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 2008), 541, 549.

The righteous are bold as a lion (Proverbs 28:1)

Two things urgently needed in ministers, if they would attempt great advances for the kingdom of Christ, are zeal and resolve. Their influence and power for impact are greater than we think. A man of ordinary abilities will accomplish more with zeal and resolve than a man ten times more gifted without zeal and resolve. . . . Men who are possessed by these qualities commonly carry the day in almost all affairs. Most of the great things that have been done in the world, the great revolutions that have been accomplished in the kingdoms and empires of the earth, have been primarily owing to zeal and resolve. The very appearance of a intensely engaged spirit, together with a fearless courage and unyielding resolve, in any person that has undertaken leadership in any human affair goes a long way toward accomplishing the intended outcome. . . . When people see a high degree of zeal and resolve in a person, it awes them and has a commanding influence upon them. . . . But while we are cold and heartless and only go on in a dull manner, in an old formal round, we will never accomplish anything great. Our efforts, when they display such coldness and irresolution, will not even make people think of yielding. . . . The appearance of such indifference and cowardice does, as it were, call for and provoke opposition. Our misery is lack of zeal and courage.

Jonathan Edwards, “Thoughts on the Revival,” in Works, I:424, paraphrased.

HT: Ray Ortlund.

Dr William Bates preached the funeral sermon of Thomas Manton.  When we read how he described his departed friend, we understand why it is reported that Bates would weep whenever he spoke of Manton for some years after his friend’s death.  At the same time, the description below provides us with a powerful depiction of a true preacher and true preaching.

His name is worthy of precious and eternal memory. God had furnished him with a rare union of those parts which are requisite to form an eminent minister of his word. A clear judgment, a rich fancy, a strong memory, and happy elocution met in him; and were excellently improved by his diligent study. In preaching the word he was of conspicuous eminence; and none could detract from him, but from ignorance or envy. He was endowed with an extraordinary knowledge of the scripture; and in his preaching, gave such perspicuous accounts of the order and dependence of divine truths, and with that felicity applied the scripture to confirm them, that every subject, by his management, was cultivated and improved. His discourses were so clear and convincing, that none, without offering violence to conscience, could resist their evidence; and from hence they were effectual, not only to inspire a sudden flame, and raise a short commotion in the affections, but to make a lasting change in the life. His doctrine was uncorrupt and pure; the truth according to godliness. He was far from the guilty, vile intention to prostitute the sacred ordinances for acquiring any private secular advantage; neither did he entertain his hearers with impertinent subleties, empty notions, intricate disputes, dry and barren, without productive virtue; but as one who always had in his eye the great end of his ministry, the glory of God, and the salvation of men. His sermons were directed to open their eyes, that they might see their wretched condition as sinners, to hasten their flight from the wrath to come, and make them humbly, and thankfully, and entirely receive Christ as their Prince and all-sufficient Saviour; and to build up the converted in their holy faith, and more excellent love, which is the “fulfilling of the law:” in short, to make true Christians eminent in knowledge and universal obedience.

And as the matter of his sermons was designed for the good of souls, so his way of expression was proper for that end. His style was not exquisitely studied, not consisting of harmonious periods, but far distant from vulgar meanness. His expression was natural and free, clear and eloquent, quick and powerful; without any spice of folly; and always suitable to the simplicity and majesty of divine truth. His sermons afforded substantial food with delight, so that a fastidious mind could not disrelish them. He abhorred a vain ostentation of wit in handling sacred truths, so venerable and grave, and of eternal consequence. His fervour and earnestness in preaching was such as might soften and make pliant the most stubborn and obstinate spirit. I am not speaking of one whose talent was only voice, who laboured in the pulpit as if the end of preaching were the exercise of the body, and not for the profit of souls. But this man of God was inflamed with holy zeal, and from thence such expressions broke forth as were capable of procuring attention and consent in his hearers. He spake as one who had a living faith within him of divine truth. From this union of zeal with his knowledge, he was excellently qualified to convince and convert souls. His unparalleled assiduity in preaching declared him very sensible of those dear and strong obligations which lie upon ministers to be very diligent in that blessed work. This faithful minister abounded in the work of the Lord; and, which is truly admirable, though so frequent in preaching, yet was always superior to others, and equal to himself, He was no fomentor of faction, but studious of the public tranquillity; he knew what a blessing peace is, and wisely foresaw the pernicious consequences which attend divisions.

Consider him as a Christian, his life was answerable to his doctrine. This servant of God was like a fruitful tree, which produces in the branches what it contains in the root. His inward grace was made visible in a conversation becoming the gospel. His resolute contempt of the world secured him from being wrought upon by those motives which tempt low spirits from their duty. He would not rashly throw himself into troubles, nor, spreta conscientia [disdaining conscience], avoid them. His generous constancy of mind in resisting the current of popular humour, declared his loyalty to his divine Master. His charity was eminent in procuring supplies for others, when in mean circumstances himself. But he had great experience of God’s fatherly provision, to which his filial confidence was correspondent. I shall finish my character of him by observing his humility. He was deeply affected with the sense of his frailty and unworthiness. He considered the infinite purity of God, and the perfection of his law, the rule of duty; and by that humbling light discovered his manifold defects. He expressed his thoughts to me a little before his death. “If the holy prophets were under strong impressions of fear upon extraordinary discoveries of the divine presence, how shall we poor creatures appear before the holy and dreadful Majesty? It is infinitely terrible to appear before God, the Judge of all, without the protection of the blood of sprinkling, which speaketh better things than that of Abel.” This alone relieved him, and supported his hopes. Though his labours were abundant, yet he knew that the work of God, passing through our hands is so blemished, that without appealing to pardoning mercy and grace, we cannot stand in judgment. This was the subject of his last public sermon, upon 2 Tim. i. 18, which was published from his notes, with the second edition of his funeral sermon.

God grant to his church more such men and ministers in our own day!

Kelvedon ∙ Stambourne ∙ Colchester ∙ Lavenham ∙ Dedham ∙ Maldon

By the time Spurgeon was fifteen years old, the family were living in Colchester, and Spurgeon was a student at Newmarket Academy, not too far away.  His father was the honorary pastor of the church in Tollesbury, about eleven miles from Colchester.  On the morning of Sunday 6^th January, 1850, the weather was extremely bad.  Charles’ mother suggested that rather than risk the ride over to Tollesbury with his father, the boy should find a church in Colchester to attend.

By this time in his life, Charles Spurgeon was profoundly affected by a deep and accurate sense of his own sinfulness, and could find no rest.  He said of this period:

When I was for many a month in this state, I used to read the Bible through, and the threatenings were all printed in capitals, but the promises were in such small type I could not for a long time make them out; and when I did read them, I did not believe they were mine; but the threatenings were all my own. “There,” said I, “when it says, ‘He that believeth not shall be damned,’ that means me!” But when it said, “He is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him,” then I thought I was shut out. When I read, “He found no place of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears;” I thought, “Ah! that is myself again.” And when I read, “That which beareth thorns and briers is rejected, and is nigh unto cursing ; whose end is to be burned;” “Ah!” I said, “that describes me to the very letter.” And when I heard the Master say, “Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?” “Ah!” thought I, “that is my text; He will have me down before long, and not let me cumber the ground any more.” But when I read, “Ho! everyone that thirsteth ; come ye to the waters;” I said, “That does not belong to me, I am sure.” And when 1 read, “Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest;” I said, “That belongs to my brother, to my sister,” or those I knew round about me; for they were all “heavy laden,” I thought, but I was not; and though, God knoweth, I would weep, and cry, and lament till my heart was breaking within me, it any man had asked me whether I sorrowed for sin, I should have told him, “No, I never had any true sorrow for sin.” “Well, do you not feel the burden of sin?” “No!” “But you really are a convinced sinner?” “No,” I should have said, “I am not.” Is it not strange that poor sinners, when they are coming to Christ, are so much in the dark that they cannot see their own hands? They are so blind that they cannot see themselves; and though the Holy Spirit has been pleased to work in them, and give them godly fear and a tender conscience, they will stand up, and declare that they have not those blessings, and that in them there is not any good thing, and that God has not looked on them nor loved them.  (Autobiography, 1:85-86)

And again:

When I was in the hand of the Holy Spirit, under conviction of sin, I had a clear and sharp sense of the justice of God. Sin, whatever it might be to other people, became to me an intolerable burden. It was not so much that I feared hell, as that I feared sin; and all the while, I had upon my mind a deep concern for the honour of God’s name, and the integrity of His moral government. I felt that it would not satisfy my conscience if I could be forgiven unjustly. But then there came the question,—”How could God be just, and yet justify me who had been so guilty?” I was worried and wearied with this question; neither could I see any answer to it. Certainly, I could never have invented an answer which would have satisfied my conscience.  (Autobiography, 1:98)

The young man with his tortured soul set out into the snow, but the weather became rapidly worse.  Here it is good to recall that even the weather is in the hands of the sovereign God (Jb 37.6; 38.22), and a means of bringing his elect where he will, when he will.  Prevented from going much further, Charles turned into a side street, and came to the Primitive Methodist Chapel in Artillery Street.

We will let him give us the narrative, from his Autobiography (1:105-111).

Personally, I have to bless God for many good books; I thank Him for Dr. Doddridge’s Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul; for Baxter’s Call to the Unconverted; for Alleine’s Alarm to Sinners; and for James’s Anxious Enquirer; but my gratitude most of all is due to God, not for books, but for the preached Word,—and that too addressed to me by a poor, uneducated man, a man who had never received any training for the ministry, and probably will never be heard of in this life, a man engaged in business, no doubt of a humble kind, during the week, but who had just enough of grace to say on the Sabbath, “Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth.” The books were good, but the man was better. The revealed Word awakened me; but it was the preached Word that saved me; and I must ever attach peculiar value to the hearing of the truth, for by it I received the joy and peace in which my soul delights. While under concern of soul, I resolved that I would attend all the places of worship in the town where I lived, in order that I might find out the way of salvation. I was willing to do anything, and be anything, if God would only forgive my sin. I set off, determined to go round to all the chapels, and I did go to every place of worship; but for a long time I went in vain. I do not, however, blame the ministers. One man preached Divine Sovereignty; I could hear him with pleasure, but what was that sublime truth to a poor sinner who wished to know what he must do to be saved? There was another admirable man who always preached about the law; but what was the use of ploughing up ground that needed to be sown? Another was a practical preacher. I heard him, but it was very much like a commanding officer teaching the manoeuvres of war to a set of men without feet. What could I do? All his exhortations were lost on me. I knew it, was said, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved;” but I did not know what it was to believe on Christ. These good men all preached truths suited to many in their congregations who were spiritually-minded people; but what I wanted to know was,—”How can I get my sins forgiven?”—and they never told me that. I desired to hear how a poor sinner, under a sense of sin, might find peace with God; and when I went, I heard a sermon on “Be not deceived, God is not mocked,” which cut me up still worse; but did not bring me into rest. I went again, another day, and the text was something about the glories of the righteous; nothing for poor me! I was like a dog under the table, not allowed to eat of the children’s food. I went time after time, and I can honestly say that I do not know that I ever went without prayer to God, and I am sure there was not a more attentive hearer than myself in all the place, for I panted and longed to understand how I might be saved.

I sometimes think I might have been in darkness and despair until now had it not been for the goodness of God in sending a snowstorm, one Sunday morning, while I was going to a certain place of worship. When I could go no further, I turned down a side street, and came to a little Primitive Methodist Chapel. In that chapel there may have been a dozen or fifteen people. I had heard of the Primitive Methodists, how they sang so loudly that they made people’s heads ache; but that did not matter to me. I wanted to know how I might be saved, and if they could tell me that, I did not care how much they made my head ache. The minister did not come that morning; he was snowed up, I suppose. At last, a very thin-looking man, a shoemaker, or tailor, or something of that sort, went up into the pulpit to preach. Now, it is well that preachers should be instructed; but this man was really stupid. He was obliged to stick to his text, for the simple reason that he had little else to say. The text was,—

“LOOK UNTO ME, AND BE YE SAVED, ALL THE ENDS OF THE EARTH.”

He did not even pronounce the words rightly, but that did not matter. There was, I thought, a glimpse of hope for me in that text. The preacher began thus—”My dear friends, this is a very simple text indeed. It says, ‘Look.’ Now lookin’ don’t take a deal of pains. It ain’t liftin’ your foot or your finger; it is just, ‘Look.’ Well, a man needn’t go to College to learn to look. You may be the biggest fool, and yet you can look. A man needn’t be worth a thousand a year to be able to look. Anyone can look; even a child can look. But then the text says, ‘Look unto Me.’ Ay!” said he, in broad Essex, “many on ye are lookin’ to yourselves, but it’s no use lookin’ there. You’ll never find any comfort in yourselves. Some look to God the Father. No, look to Him by-and-by. Jesus Christ says, ‘Look unto Me.’ Some on ye say, ‘We must wait for the Spirit’s workin’.’ You have no business with that just now. Look to Christ. The text says, ‘Look unto Me.’”

Then the good man followed up his text in this way:—”Look unto Me; I am sweatin’ great drops of blood. Look unto Me; I am hangin’ on the cross. Look unto Me; I am dead and buried. Look unto Me; I rise again. Look unto Me; I ascend to Heaven. Look unto Me; I am sittin’ at the Father’s right hand. O poor sinner, look unto Me! look unto Me!”

When he had gone to about that length, and managed to spin out ten minutes or so, he was at the end of his tether. Then he looked at me under the gallery, and I daresay, with so few present, he knew me to be a stranger. Just fixing his eyes on me, as if he knew all my heart, he said, “Young man, you look very miserable.” Well, I did; but I had not been accustomed to have remarks made from the pulpit on my personal appearance before. However, it was a good blow, struck right home. He continued, “and you always will be miserable—miserable in life, and miserable in death,—if you don’t obey my text; but if you obey now, this moment, you will be saved.” Then, lifting up his hands, he shouted, as only a Primitive Methodist could do, “Young man, look to Jesus Christ. Look! Look! Look! You have nothin’ to do but to look and live.” I saw at once the way of salvation. I know not what else he said,—I did not take much notice of it,—I was so possessed with that one thought. Like as when the brazen serpent was lifted up, the people only looked and were healed, so it was with me. I had been waiting to do fifty things, but when I heard that word, “Look!” what a charming word it seemed to me! Oh! I looked until I could almost have looked my eyes away. There and then the cloud was gone, the darkness had rolled away, and that moment I saw the sun; and I could have risen that instant, and sung with the most enthusiastic of them, of the precious blood of Christ, and the simple faith which looks alone to Him. Oh, that somebody had told me this before, “Trust Christ, and you shall be saved.” Yet it was, no doubt, all wisely ordered, and now I can say,—

Ever since by faith I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.

I do from my soul confess that I never was satisfied till I came to Christ; when was yet a child, I had far more wretchedness than ever I have now; I will even add, more weariness, more care, more heart-ache than I know at this day. I may be singular in this confession, but I make it, and know it to be the truth. Since that dear hour when my soul cast itself on Jesus, I have found solid joy and peace; but before that, all those supposed gaieties of early youth, all the imagined ease and joy of boyhood, were but vanity and vexation of spirit to me. . That happy day, when I found the Saviour, and learned to cling to His dear feet, was a day never to be forgotten by me. An obscure child, unknown, unheard of, I listened to the Word of God; and that precious text led me to the cross of Christ. I can testify that the joy of that day was utterly indescribable. I could have leaped, I could have danced; there was no expression, however fanatical, which would have been out of keeping with the joy of my spirit at that hour. Many days of Christian experience have passed since then, but there has never been one which has had the full exhilaration, the sparkling delight which that first day had. I thought I could have sprung from the seat on which I sat, and have called out with the wildest of those Methodist brethren who were present, “I am forgiven! I am forgiven! A monument of grace! A sinner saved by blood! “My spirit saw its chains broken to pieces, I felt that I was an emancipated soul, an heir of Heaven, a forgiven one, accepted in Christ Jesus, plucked out of the miry clay and out of the horrible pit, with my feet set upon a rock, and my goings established. I thought I could dance all the way home. I could understand what John Bunyan meant, when he declared he wanted to tell the crows on the ploughed land all about his conversion. He was too full to hold, he felt he must tell somebody.

It is not everyone who can remember the very day and hour of his, deliverance; but, as Richard Knill said, “At such a time of the day, clang went every harp in Heaven, for Richard Knill was born again,” it was e’en so with me. The clock of mercy struck in Heaven the hour and moment of my emancipation, for the time had come. Between half-past ten o’clock, when I entered that chapel, and half-past twelve o’clock, when I was back again at home, what a change had taken place in me! I had passed from darkness into marvellous light, from death to life. Simply by looking to Jesus, I had been delivered from despair, and I was brought into such a joyous state of mind that, when they saw me at home, they said to me, “Something wonderful has happened to you;” and I was eager to tell them all about it. Oh! there was joy in the household that day, when all heard that the eldest son had found the Saviour, and knew himself to be forgiven,—bliss compared with which all earth’s joys are less than nothing and vanity. Yes, I had looked to Jesus as I was, and found in Him my Saviour. Thus had the eternal purpose of Jehovah decreed it; and as, the moment before, there was none more wretched than I was, so, within that second, there was none more joyous. It took no longer time than does the lightning-flash; it was done, and never has it been undone. I looked, and lived, and leaped in joyful liberty as I beheld my sin punished upon the great Substitute, and put away for ever. I looked unto Him, as He bled upon that tree; His eyes darted a glance of love unutterable into my spirit, and in a moment, I was saved. Looking unto Him, the bruises that my soul had suffered were healed, the gaping wounds were cured, the broken bones rejoiced, the rags that had covered me were all removed, my spirit was white as the spotless snows of the far-off North; I had melody within my spirit, for I was saved, washed, cleansed, forgiven, through Him that did hang upon the tree. My Master, I cannot understand how Thou couldst stoop Thine awful head to such a death as the death of the cross,—how Thou couldst take from Thy brow the coronet of stars which from old eternity had shone resplendent there; but how Thou shouldst permit the thorn-crown to gird Thy temples, astonishes me far more. That Thou shouldst cast away the mantle of Thy glory, the azure of Thine everlasting empire, I cannot comprehend: but how Thou shouldst have become veiled in the ignominious purple for a while, and then be mocked by impious men, who bowed to Thee as a pretended king; and how Thou shouldst be stripped naked to Thy shame, without a single covering, and die a felon’s death;—this is still more incomprehensible. But the marvel is that Thou shouldst have suffered all this for me! Truly, Thy love to me is wonderful, passing the love of women! Was ever grief like Thine? Was ever love like Thine, that could open the flood-gates of such grief? Was ever love so mighty as to become the fount from which such an ocean of grief could come rolling down?

There was never anything so true to me as those bleeding hands, and that thorn-crowned head. Home, friends, health, wealth, comforts—all lost their lustre that day when He appeared, just as stars are hidden by the light of the sun. He was the only Lord and Giver of life’s best bliss, the one well of living water springing up unto everlasting life. As I saw Jesus on His cross before me, and as I mused upon His sufferings and death, methought I saw Him cast a look of love upon me; and then I looked at Him, and cried,—

Jesu, lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly.

He said, “Come,” and I flew to Him, and clasped Him; and when He let me go again, I wondered where my burden was. It was gone! There, in the sepulchre, it lay, and I felt light as air; like a winged sylph, I could fly over mountains of trouble and despair; and oh! what liberty and joy I had! I could leap with ecstasy, for I had much forgiven, and I was freed from sin. With the spouse in the Canticles, I could say, “I found Him;” I, a lad, found the Lord of glory; I, a slave to sin, found the great Deliverer; I, the child of darkness, found the Light of life; I, the uttermost of the lost, found my Saviour and my God; I, widowed and desolate, found my Friend, my Beloved, my Husband. Oh, how I wondered that I should be pardoned! It was not the pardon that I wondered at so much; the wonder was that it should come to me. I marvelled that He should be able to pardon such sins as mine, such crimes, so numerous and so black; and that, after such an accusing conscience, He should have power to still every wave within my spirit, and make my soul like the surface of a river, undisturbed, quiet, and at ease. It mattered not to me whether the day itself was gloomy or bright, I had found Christ; that was enough for me. He was my Saviour, He was my all; and I can heartily say, that one day of pardoned sin was a sufficient recompense for the whole five years of conviction. I have to bless God for every terror that ever scared me by night, and for every foreboding that alarmed me by day. It has made me happier ever since; for now, if there be a trouble weighing upon my soul, I thank God it is not such a burden as that which bowed me to the very earth, and made me creep upon the ground, like a beast, by reason of heavy distress and affliction. I know I never can again suffer what I have suffered; I never can, except I be sent to hell, know more of agony than I have known; and now, that ease, that joy and peace in believing, that “no condemnation” which belongs to me as a child of God, is made doubly sweet and inexpressibly precious, by the recollection of my past days of sorrow and grief. Blessed be Thou, O God, for ever, who by those black days, like a dreary winter, bast made these summer days all the fairer and the sweeter! I need not walk through the earth fearful of every shadow, and afraid of every man I meet, for sin is washed away; my spirit is no more guilty; it is pure, it is holy. The frown of God no longer resteth upon me; but my Father smiles, I see His eyes,—they are glancing love; I hear His voice,—it is full of sweetness. I am forgiven, I am forgiven, I am forgiven!

When I look back upon it, I can see one reason why the Word was blessed to me as I heard it preached in that Primitive Methodist Chapel at Colchester; I had been up betimes crying to God for the blessing. As a lad, when I was seeking the Saviour, I used to rise with the sun, that I might get time to read gracious books, and to seek the Lord. I can recall the kind of pleas I used when I took my arguments, and came before the throne of grace: “Lord, save me; it will glorify Thy grace to save such a sinner as I am! Lord, save me, else I am lost to all eternity; do not let me perish, Lord! Save me, O Lord, for Jesus died! By His agony and bloody sweat, by His cross and passion, save me!” I often proved that the early morning was the best part of the day; I liked those prayers of which the psalmist said, “In the morning shall my prayer prevent Thee.”

The church building at Colchester remains the home of an evangelical congregation.  It is still in a back street, tucked away where it is difficult to see.  Its best-known convert is commemorated without and within.  As I understand it, it is still the case that only a few of God’s faithful people meet within in order to hear the Word of God being preached.  But who is to say that in this, or some other congregation like it in one of the world’s back alleys, a young man will not turn in tomorrow with his soul burdened under a profound sense of sin, and the unknown preacher will stumblingly make known to him the gospel, and the Spirit of God will take that word and bless it to his sin-sick heart, and make him whole.  Who knows but that there are young men being captured by Christ, who – enraptured with his saving love – will make it their life’s work to proclaim Jesus to a needy world.  And it will ever be the work of the Spirit to bless that word, and to make it effectual in the hearts of all God’s elect.

Amidst all the other Calvin-related business and bustle, the John Owen Centre at the London Theological Seminary is hosting a Calvin Conference toward the end of this year.  It will run on Monday 14th and Tuesday 15th September 2009, and will cost £50 for the two days.

• Calvin the Revolutionary: Christian living in a fallen world (Joel Beeke)
• Calvin’s Way of Doing Theology: Exploring the Institutes (Tony Lane)
• Calvin and Union with Christ: The Heart of Christian Doctrine (Paul Wells)
• Calvin the Man: A Heart Aflame (Sinclair Ferguson) - Lloyd-Jones Memorial Lecture
• Calvin the Reformer (Ian Hamilton)
• Calvin and Christian Experience: The Holy Spirit in the Life of the Christian (Sinclair Ferguson)
• Calvin and Preaching: The Power of the Word (Joel Beeke)

Get booking information from the John Owen Centre.