The Wanderer

Yesterday evening I was at St Helen’s, Bishopsgate, to hear Wayne Grudem speak for the Christian Institute on whether political engagement distracts from the gospel.  This was the first date in a planned tour (coming soon to a town or city somewhere within striking distance of you, maybe).

Colin Hart of the Institute gave Wayne a monster build-up, which – while it may be a reflection of genuine respect and affection – does rather tend to give the audience an over-inflated idea of what to expect.  There were no staggering insights here, but there was a clear and winsome presentation of Grudem’s perspective.

Beginning with a gracious review of the place of the UK in the ongoing combat for liberty of conscience and public Christian testimony, Grudem then presented five wrong views concerning Christian involvement in the political sphere, which have been more or less publicly articulated, or are to some extent popular attitudes:

• Government should compel religion.
• Religion should be excluded from government.
• All government is evil and demonic.
• Do evangelism, not politics.
• Do politics, not evangelism.

Each was presented with Grudem’s characteristic fairness, and he responded to each with a clear and fundamentally Scriptural rebuttal.

Then, calling on examples from Daniel, Jeremiah, Nehemiah, Esther, and John the Baptist, and drawing on apostolic teaching from Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2, he called for “significant Christian influence on government” as the right and righteous approach, making application to Christians in general and to pastors in particular.

Positively, it was an excellent example of clarity and fairness of communication.  He employed Scripture wisely and widely, both in exposing error and in promoting truth.  I think that I had a great deal of sympathy with his fundamental conclusion.  I enjoyed it, even though it was – quite rightly – not so much ground-breaking as a heartfelt engagement with the times in the light of God’s Word.

Outstanding issues remain: in terms of his positive conclusion, what is “significant . . . influence”?  I hope I understand the principle, but I think that this needs to be developed, not least in terms of the difference between the engagement of the Christian who is a citizen/member/subject in a state or nation, and the responsibility of the church as a body.  I would like to have seen the right relationship between evangelism in a fallen world and engagement with that world in the political and societal spheres more fully developed.  I think we need to make sure that – while there are helpful principles and illustrations to draw from our Old Testaments (God forbid that we should abandon them here) – we take great care to distinguish between the time when God revealed himself to and through a nation-state in which he was the supreme ruler, and the very different mode of his dealing in the New Testament period and following.  We must take care not to assume that we can simply read across from the days when God tied his name to a national people in a particular land into the days when God has tied his name to his church in every place.  I also think that we must take pains not to pressure the Biblical data into a 21^st century Western mould.  Not least, we should not assume that ‘government’ – and, more specifically, ‘good government’ – looks like a modern Western liberal democracy.  I do not think that Prof. Grudem had the time in the context of this meeting to develop these questions, and so I look forward to his forthcoming massive tome on the topic, Politics According to the Bible (from Zondervan later this year, probably September).

On the way home I read Grudem’s new book, Business for the Glory of God: The Bible’s Teaching on the Moral Goodness of Business.  I got the sense that it is a nuggety version of particular aspects of the larger volume on Politics.  If Business is anything to go by, Politics will be stimulating to the point of provocative.  I hope to give a brief review of Business for the Glory of God in due course.

In the meantime, I would advocate going to hear Professor Grudem with a genuinely Berean spirit.  The very clarity of his address will help to identify the issues with which believers need to wrestle in order to honour God in this regard.  (Plus, excellent discounts on his books, old and new, are given.)

Here is a further snippet from Wise Counsel (Banner of Truth, 2010, p380-381: do buy it).  This is one of Newton’s last letters to his long-time friend.  His eyes failing but his faith growing, Newton writes with humble honesty about his failings and his faith in Jesus Christ. We may not be able to speak of crowded and attentive congregations, but who can deny the continued blackness of a heart struggling against sin, and the comfort of a Christ who will by no means cast out those who come to him?

I am still favoured with a crowded, attentive, affectionate and peaceful auditory and we are not without tokens of the Lord’s gracious presence in the midst of us. And though I am a poor creature still, though my best is defective and defiled, and my imagination, which I call my thorn in the flesh, is sadly wild and ungovernable, though I live upon daily and hourly forgiveness, yet perhaps it was never better with me upon the whole, than at present. My trials are few. My temporal mercies are many; I hope my sense of them is heightened by contrast, when I look around me, or when I look back to my state of wickedness and misery in Africa, which has seldom been two hours together out of my waking thoughts, since I last left that dreary coast in the year 54. Indeed, I need not look so far back as Africa, for alas! the proofs I have had of the depravity and deceitfulness of my heart, have been much stronger since I knew the Lord, than before! How often have I sinned against light and love, and a sense of multiplied obligations! I have been remarkably a child of Providence, but my experiences have not been so much diversified. I have not suffered much from the fiery darts, and black temptations of Satan. On the other hand, I have no raptures or high consolations to speak of. I never was for an hour like the apostle at a loss to know whether I was in or out of the body. The sin of my nature cleaves close to me as my skin, and infects all I say or do. But it is given to me to believe that the blood of Jesus cleanseth from all sin, and that when He said, ‘Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out’, he meant as He spoke, and will make his word good. Upon this rock I build. Other refuge have I none. If He was strict to mark what is amiss, He might justly cast me off now in my old age, and forsake me, when my strength faileth; be He has said, ‘In no wise.’ Thus Noah when in the ark had the comfort of knowing that he was safe, but I suppose he did not derive much comfort from the circumstances of his voyage.

John Newton’s letters to the Baptist minister, John Ryland Jr., have recently been collected and republished by the Banner of Truth under the title, Wise Counsel (a full review I hope will follow, but it really is outstanding: do buy it).  The fifth letter in this collection, previously published in Letters of John Newton (or Cardiphonia, also from Banner) is written in response to one in which Ryland seems to have complained about his low spiritual condition.  Newton’s response is a masterpiece of pastoral wisdom, sensitive both to the balance of Scripture revelation on the issue and to the legitimate desires and concerns of the regenerate heart.

Dear Sir,

You ask me, in your letter, ‘What should one do when one finds oneself always still, quiet, and stupid, except in the pulpit; is made useful there, but cannot get either comfort or sorrow out of it, or but very rarely?’  You describe a case which my own experience has made very familiar to me.  I shall take the occasion to offer you a few miscellaneous thoughts upon the subject of a believer’s frames; and I send them to you, not by the post, but from the press; because I apprehend the exercise you speak of is not peculiar to you or to me, but is in a greater or less degree the burden of all who are spiritually minded, and duly attentive to what passes in their own hearts, whether they are in the ministry or not.

As you intimate that you are in the main favoured with liberty and usefulness in the pulpit, give me leave to ask you, what you would do if you did not find yourself occasionally poor, insufficient, and, as you express it, stupid, at other times?  Are you aware of what might be the possible, the probable, the almost certain consequences, if you always found your spirit enlarged, and your frames lively and comfortable?  Would you not be in great danger of being puffed up with spiritual pride?  Would you not be less sensible of your absolute dependence upon the power of Christ, and of your continual need of his blood, pardon, and intercession?  Would you not be quite at a loss to speak suitably and feelingly to the case of many gracious souls, who are groaning under those effects of a depraved nature, from which, upon that supposition, you would be exempted?  How could you speak properly upon the deceitfulness of the heart, if you did not feel the deceitfulness of your own; or adapt yourself to the changing experiences through which your hearers pass, if you yourself were always alike, or nearly so?  Or how could you speak pertinently of the inward warfare, the contrary principles of flesh and spirit fighting one against another, if your own spiritual desires were always vigorous and successful, and met with little opposition or control?

The Apostle Paul, though favoured with a singular eminency in grace, felt at times that he had no sufficiency in himself so much as to think a good thought; and he saw there was a danger of his being exalted above measure, if the Lord had not wisely and graciously tempered his dispensations to prevent it.  By ‘being exalted above measure,’ perhaps there may be a reference not only to his spirit, lest he should think more highly of himself than he ought, but likewise to his preaching, lest, not having the same causes of complaint and humiliation in common with others, he should shoot over the heads of his hearers, confine himself chiefly to speak of such comforts and privileges as he himself enjoyed, and have little to say for the refreshment of those who were discouraged and cast down by a continual conflict with indwelling sin.  The angel who appeared to Cornelius did not preach the Gospel to him, but directed him to send for Peter.  For though the glory and grace of the Saviour seems a fitter subject for an angel’s powers than for the poor stammering tongues of sinful men, yet an angel could not preach experimentally, nor describe the warfare between grace and sin from his own feelings.  And if we could suppose a minister as full of comforts and as free from failings as an angel, though he would be a good and happy man, I cannot conceive that he would be a good or useful preacher; for he would not know how to sympathize with the weak and afflicted of the flock, or to comfort them under their difficulties with the consolations wherewith he himself, in similar circumstances, had been comforted of God.  It belongs to your calling of God as a minister, that you should have a taste of the various spiritual trials which are incident to the Lord’s people, that thereby you may possess the tongue of the learned, and know how to speak a word in season to them that are weary; and it is likewise needful to keep you perpetually attentive to that important admonition, ‘Without me you can do nothing.’

Thus much considering you as a minister.  But we may extend the subject so as to make it applicable to believers in general.  I would observe, therefore, that it is a sign of a sad declension, if one, who has tasted that the Lord is gracious, should be capable of being fully satisfied with anything short of the light of his countenance, which is better than life.  A resting in notions of Gospel truth, or in the recollection of past comforts, without a continual thirst for fresh communications from the fountain of life, is, I am afraid, the canker which eats away the beauty and fruitfulness of many professors in the present day; and which, if it does not prove them to be absolutely dead, is at least a sufficient evidence that they are lamentably sick.  But if we are conscious of the desire.  If we seek it carefully in the use of all appointed means.  If we willingly allow ourselves in nothing which has a known tendency to grieve the Spirit of God, and to damp our sense of divine things.  Then, if the Lord is pleased to keep us short of those comforts which he has taught us to prize, and, instead of lively sensations of joy and praise, we feel a languor and deadness of spirit, provided we do indeed feel it, and are humbled for it, we have no need to give way to despondency or excessive sorrow.  Still the foundation of our hope, and the ground of our abiding joys, is the same.  And the heart may be as really alive to God, and grace as truly in exercise, when we walk in comparative darkness and see little light, as when the frame of our spirits is more comfortable.  Neither the reality, nor the measure of grace, can be properly estimated by the degree of our sensible comforts.

The great question is, How we are practically influenced by the word of God, as the ground of our hope, and as the governing rule of our tempers and conversation?  The Apostle exhorts believers to rejoice in the Lord always.  He well knew that they were exposed to trials and temptations, and to much trouble from an evil heart of unbelief; and he prevents the objections we might be ready to make, by adding, ‘And again I say, Rejoice’: as if he had said, ‘I speak upon mature consideration.  I call upon you to rejoice, not at some times only, but at all times.  Not only when upon the mount, but when in the valley.  Not only when you conquer, but while you are fighting.  Not only when the Lord shines upon you, but when he seems to hide his face.’  When he enables you to do all things, you are no better in yourselves than you were before.  And when you feel you can do nothing, you are no worse.  Your experiences will vary, but his love and promises are always unchangeable.  Though our desires of comfort, and what we call lively frames, cannot be too importunate while they are regulated by a due submission to his will, yet they may be inordinate for lack of such submission.  Sinful principles may, and too often do, mix with and defile our best desires.  I have often detected the two vile abominations self-will and self-righteousness insinuating themselves into this concern.  Like Satan, who works by them, they can occasionally assume the appearance of an angel of light.  I have felt an impatience in my spirit, utterly unsuitable to my state as a sinner and a beggar, and to my profession of yielding myself and all my concerns to the Lord’s disposal.  He has mercifully convinced me that I labour under a multiplication of disorders, summed up in the word sin.

He has graciously revealed himself to me as the infallible physician; and has enabled me, as such, to commit myself to him, and to expect my cure from his hand alone.  Yet how often, instead of thankfully accepting his prescriptions, have I foolishly and presumptuously ventured to prescribe to him, and to point out how I would have him deal with me!  How often have I thought something was necessary which he saw best to deny, and that I could have done better without those dispensations which his wisdom appointed to work for my good!  He is God, and not man, or else he would have been weary of me, and left me to my own management long ago.  How inconsistent to acknowledge that I am blind, to entreat him to lead me, and yet to want to choose my own way, in the same breath!  I have limited the Holy One of Israel and not considered that he magnifies his wisdom and grace in working by contraries, and bringing good out of seeming evil.  It has cost me something to bring me to confess that he is wiser than I; but I trust, through his blessing, I have not suffered wholly in vain.  My sensible comforts have not been great: the proofs I have had of the evils of my sinful nature, my incapacity and aversion to good, have neither been few nor small; but by these unpromising means I hope he has made his grace and salvation precious to my soul, and in some measure weaned me from leaning to my own understanding.

Again, self-righteousness has had a considerable hand in dictating many of my desires for an increase of comfort and spiritual strength.  I have wanted some stock of my own.  I have been wearied of being so perpetually beholden to him, necessitated to come to him always in the same strain, as a poor miserable sinner.  I would have liked to have done something for myself in common, and to have depended upon him chiefly upon extraordinary occasions.  I have found indeed, that I could do nothing without his assistance, nor anything even with it, but what I have reason to be ashamed of.  If this had only humbled me, and led me to rejoice in his all-sufficiency, it would have been well. But it has often had a different effect, to make me sullen, angry, and discontented, as if it was not best and most desirable that he should have all the glory of his own work, and I should have nothing to boast of, but that in the Lord I have righteousness and strength.  I am now learning to glory only in my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest upon me; to be content to be nothing, that he may be all in all.  But I find this a hard lesson; and when I seem to have made some proficiency, a slight turn in my spirit throws me back, and I have to begin all again.

There is an inseparable connection between causes and effects.  There can be no effect without a cause, no active cause without a proportionable effect.  Now indwelling sin is an active cause; and therefore, while it remains in our nature, it will produce effects according to its strength.  Why then should I be surprised, that, if the Lord suspends his influence for a moment, in that moment sin will discover itself?  Why should I wonder that I can feel no lively exercise of grace, no power to raise my heart to God, any farther than he is pleased to work in me mightily; any more than wonder that I do not find fire in the bottom of a well, or that it should not be day when the sun is withdrawn from the earth?  Humbled I ought to be, to find I am so totally depraved; but not discouraged, since Jesus is appointed to me of God, wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption; and since I find that, in the midst of all this darkness and deadness, he keeps alive the principle of grace which he has implanted in my heart.

As to Mr. Rutherford’s expression which you mention, that ‘there is no temptation like being without temptation’, I allow it in a qualified sense.  That is, it is better of the two to suffer from Satan’s fiery darts than to be lulled asleep, and drawn into a careless security by his more subtle, though less perceptible devices; so as to grow indifferent to the means of grace, and sink into a worldly spirit.  Or, like the church of Laodicea, to imagine ourselves rich, and increased in goods, and that we have need of nothing.  But I am persuaded this is not your case; the deadness you complain of, and which is a burden you groan under, is a very different thing.  And I advise you to be cautious how you indulge a desire to be exercised with Satan’s temptations, as supposing they would be conducive to make you more spiritual, or would of course open you a way to greater consolations.  If you have such a desire, I may say to you, in our Lord’s words, ‘you know not what you ask.’  He, who knows our weakness, and the power of our adversary, has graciously directed us to pray, that we enter not into temptation.

Have you considered what the enemy can do, if he is permitted to come in like a flood?  In one hour he could raise such a storm as would put you to your wit’s end.  He could bring such a dark cloud over your mind, as would blot out all remembrance of your past comforts, or at least prevent you from deriving the least support from them.  He could not only fight against your peace, but shake the very foundations of your hope, and bring you to question, not only your interest in the promises, but even to doubt of the most important and fundamental truths upon which your hopes have been built.  Be thankful, therefore, if the Lord restrains his malice.  A young sailor is often impatient of a short calm, but the experienced mariner, who has been often tossed with tempests, and upon the point of perishing, will seldom wish for a storm.  In a word, let us patiently wait upon the Lord, and be content to follow as he leads, and he will surely do us good.

I am, &c.

“Renowned author and apologist Alister McGrath to write C. S. Lewis biography for Tyndale House publishers.  Definitive work will release in 2013, the fiftieth anniversary of Lewis’s death.”

For more information, see here.

A few days ago my brother, Dan Walker, was interviewed by Aled Jones for his Radio 2 show, Good Morning, Sunday.  The interview was broadcast yesterday morning, and – with the World Cup looming – the first section was about all things sporting, and then they got into a discussion of what it means to be a Christian, and my brother’s desire to honour the Lord’s day.

You can listen to the interview for the next few days at BBC iPlayer here, with Dan’s interview beginning just after Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Proud Mary (Rollin’ On A River) at the 2:25:30 mark.  I admit that the interview is marred by the selection of an utterly random piece of music, which my brother seems to blame on his father-in-law, but he actually asked Aled to play it, so I don’t think he can slope the shoulders.

I have previously posted some of my Dan’s thoughts on sport and Sundays, and, as I say, you can also listen to the interview, beginning at 2 hours, 25 minutes, and about 30 seconds into the show.

Dan has since flown to South Africa where he seems to have some kind of roving remit over the next five or six weeks, doing a job he loves and does well.

Advance copies of A Portrait of Paul (or, at least, the manuscript) have now produced a couple of positive (p)reviews.

Dr Robert Gonzales has provided a sort of summary-review of A Portrait of Paul.  Of course, he had a head start as my co-author sought him out for an endorsement, but he has now been kind enough to give a more in-depth assessment.

Then, over at Christian Book Notes, a gentleman by the name of Terry Delaney has also given a generous assessment of the book.

These are encouraging indications that perhaps the effort is proving worthwhile.

Charles Spurgeon, as so often, makes a good point well.  Here, in a sermon on 2 Timothy 4:13 about Paul’s cloak and books, he speaks of the value of being a reader.  Trevin Wax got here first with a slightly updated version of this quote.

We will look at [Paul's] books. We do not know what the books were about, and we can only form some guess as to what the parchments were. Paul had a few books which were left, perhaps wrapped up in the cloak, and Timothy was to be careful to bring them. Even an apostle must read. Some of our very ultra Calvinistic brethren think that a minister who reads books and studies his sermon must be a very deplorable specimen of a preacher. A man who comes up into the pulpit, professes to take his text on the spot, and talks any quantity of nonsense, is the idol of many. If he will speak without premeditation, or pretend to do so, and never produce what they call a dish of dead men’s brains – oh! that is the preacher. How rebuked are they by the apostle! He is inspired, and yet he wants books! He has been preaching at least for thirty years, and yet he wants books! He had seen the Lord, and yet he wants books! He had had a wider experience than most men, and yet he wants books! He had been caught up into the third heaven, and had heard things which it was unlawful for a men to utter, yet he wants books! He had written the major part of the New Testament, and yet he wants books! The apostle says to Timothy and so he says to every preacher, “Give thyself unto reading.” The man who never reads will never be read; he who never quotes will never be quoted. He who will not use the thoughts of other men’s brains, proves that he has no brains of his own. Brethren, what is true of ministers is true of all our people. You need to read. Renounce as much as you will all light literature, but study as much as possible sound theological works, especially the Puritanic writers, and expositions of the Bible. We are quite persuaded that the very best way for you to be spending your leisure, is to be either reading or praying. You may get much instruction from books which afterwards you may use as a true weapon in your Lord and Master’s service. Paul cries, “Bring the books” – join in the cry.