The Marriage of David Livingstone

A few years ago Doreen Moore wrote a gem of a book entitled Good Christians, Good Husbands? It deals with three marriages: one ugly, one so-so and one great. The ugly one was that of John Wesley and Molly Vazeille—a terrible marriage, much of it Wesley’s fault. The so-so was the marriage of George Whitefield and his wife Elizabeth James—he really married to have a housekeeper! Then there was the sparkling “uncommon union” of Jonathan Edwards and Sarah Pierpont. Wow what a marriage! Thought of this as I read the following “Friday rambling” of Tim Challies:

“I read a biography of David Livingstone this week and drew out a couple of quotes. The first is taken from a letter he wrote to a friend in which he described his fiancee (soon to be his wife). He described her as “not a romantic. Mine is a matter of fact lady, a little thick black haired girl, sturdy and all I want.” I guess it’s a good thing she was not a romantic for clearly Livingstone was not either!” (Friday Ramblings).

Of course, some might say it was a good thing for Livingstone’s intended that she was not a romantic, since he thought of nothing of prolonged peregrinations in Africa without her. Personally, I think such men should not get married—they only bring disrepute on the holy institution. There must be fire and passion, or why get married?

Eminent Christians: 13. Gregory of Nazianzus, Part II

Constantinople When Gregory of Nazianzus came to Constantinople in 379 he found the orthodox community in the city both fragmented and extremely tiny, not only because Arianism had long dominated the city, but also because other parties, inimical to orthodoxy, had established themselves within the city, e.g., the Eunomians, the Apollinarians, the Novatians, and the Pneumatomachi. Consequently, upon his arrival at Constantinople, Nazianzen commenced the re-organization of the small orthodox community and to this end, he dedicated a private home to be used as their church.

From this small church, which Nazianzen called Anastasia, the theologian, combining his rhetorical education and innate love of words with a deep desire to proclaim the truth, expounded the Nicene faith to “enraptured audiences.” Central in his exposition of orthodoxy and attack on “the new theology” of the Eunomian and the Pneumatomachi, were the Theological Orations, delivered between July and November of 380.

Prior to Theodosius’ triumphant entry into Constantinople on 24 November 380, Nazianzen’s position had not been official. But upon the Emperor’s arrival, the Arian bishop Demophilus was expelled and Nazianzen installed as bishop in the Church of the Apostles. Theodosius was determined to establish the eastern Church on the bedrock of Nicaea. To this end he convened a council in Constantinople in the spring of 381. This council re-affirmed the Nicene Creed (in a confession of faith no longer extant), and added clauses directed against various heretics, including Eunomius, the Pneumatomachi and Apollinaris. Furthermore, the Council recognized Nazianzen as the rightful bishop of Constantinople.

But Nazianzen’s episcopacy was to be very brief, cut short by the ecclesiastical squabbles and intrigue that attended this council. The first president of the council was Meletius of Antioch, a major protagonist in a schism that had divided the Nicene community of Antioch for a number of years. When he died, shortly after the opening of the council, Nazianzen was made president, and, in an attempt to placate the two Antiochene parties, he proposed that Paulinus, Meletius’ rival claimant to the see, be recognised as Meletius’ successor.

This proposal brought a storm of criticism, in which Nazianzen’s own position as bishop of Constantinople was called into question. Timothy of Alexandria declared that Nazianzen, by transferring his see from Sasima to Constantinople, had technically violated the Nicene canon that prohibited the transference of sees. Nazianzen, wearied and disgusted by the endless intrigue and dissension, decided to quit the eastern capital and retire to his family estates at Arianzus. Now, his sole desire was to spend the remainder of his life in quiet seclusion. But the days of his pastoral ministry were not yet at an end.

Responding to Apollinaris and final days

Upon his return to Cappadocia, he had to administer the still-vacant see of Nazianzus (vacant since his departure for Seleucia in 374). This brief period of pastoral administration witnessed Nazianzen’s growing concern with the spread of the teachiong of Apollinaris—who had fought for Nicence orthodoxy alongside Athanasius, but whos understanding of the Incarnation was deeply flawed. At least two of the three Theological Letters belong to this period. Nazianzen’s great longing for permanent retirement was finally realised when Theodore, archbishop of Tyana, appointed a successor to Nazianzen, his cousin Eulalius.

On his family estates in Arianzus, Nazianzen spent the last years of his life in spiritual contemplation, in writing poetry and in an extensive correspondence with his friends. He died in 390.

Personality

For some scholars the motif of “flight from and return to the world” best characterises Nazianzen’s life. Yet, this motif is but the external form of Nazianzen’s attempt to synthesize both his longing for the contemplative life and his desire to be of practical use to the Church.

The failure to attain this synthesis is all too evident in, e.g., Nazianzen’s flights from pastoral ministry in 362 and 372, and then again in his decision to leave Constantinople in 381. On the other hand, the success of the synthesis is best seen in the classic statement on the ministry (Oration 2), in the Theological Orations and the Theological Letters, in the spiritual counsel evident in the letters of his final retirement and in his doctrinal poems. These writings show that Nazianzen, concerned for the nurture of the Church of his day, drew upon a deep well of spirituality, the source of which lay in contemplative solitude.

Denis Meehan has described Nazianzen as a man “almost abnormal in his capacity for being hurt.” It was this characteristic which was largely instrumental in provoking the argument with Basil over the bishopric of Sasima, and which, later, hastened his departure from Constantinople.

The other side of this characteristic must not, however, be overlooked, i.e., his great capacity for “filial, fraternal and friendly love.” Far from being a drawback, this characteristic enabled Nazianzen to achieve a large measure of success in his endeavour to synthesize the active and contemplative modes of life. On the one hand, his hypersensitivity prevented him from becoming enmeshed in the ecclesiastical politics of his day. On the other hand, his great need for friendship would not allow him to withdraw permanently into seclusion but gave him the desire to benefit the church with his theological learning.

Andrew Fuller the Reader–A Conference

The Andrew Fuller Works Project is pleased to announce a conference on “Andrew Fuller the Reader” to be held at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, August 27-28, 2007. Speakers include Dr. Russell Moore, Dr. Tom Nettles, Dr. Carl Trueman, Dr. Michael McMullen, Dr. Jeff Jue and Dr. Michael Haykin.

Topics include “The contemporary significance of Andrew Fuller” (Dr. Moore); “Andrew Fuller: heir of the Reformation” (Dr. Jue); “John Owen’s influence on Andrew Fuller” (Dr. Trueman); and “Jonathan Edwards—theological mentor to Andrew Fuller” (Dr. Nettles).

Full details as to schedule, full description of topics, and cost to follow.

Eminent Christians: 13. Gregory of Nazianzus, Part I

Early life Gregory Nazianzen (c.329-390), was the eldest son and namesake of a member of the Cappadocian curial class. After he had completed his early education in the didaskaleia of Cappadocia, Nazianzen went on to study philosophy and rhetoric at the university of Athens. He had been there but a short time, when a former acquaintance, Basil of Caesarea (c.329-379), arrived. Although opposites in temperament, these two Cappadocians shared a common view about the ideal Christian life, and they became fast friends.

After his return to Cappadocia (c.356-357), Nazianzen joined Basil at the latter’s retreat at Annesoi in Pontus, where Nazianzen devoted himself, on and off for a couple of years, to the practice of coenobitic asceticism. Eventually, the literary fruit of the two friends’ endeavour was to be the Philocalia, a selection of choice passages from the works of the third-century exegete Origen. However, Nazianzen’s contemplative way of life was rudely interrupted when his father, now aged and desirous of aid in carrying out his pastoral duties, had his son forcibly ordained presbyter, c.361-362. Grieved by what Nazianzen later called “this act of tyranny” [De Vita Sua, 1ines 545-549 (PG 37.1067)], Nazianzen fled to the solitude of Basil’s Pontic retreat. He returned to his father’s diocese before Easter 362 to assume his presbyter duties and gave a lengthy sermon explaining the reasons for his flight and return, which became a classic study of the ministry.

Later forcibly compelled by his friend Basil of Caesarea to accept the see of Sasima. Nazianzen again fled this time to the solitude of a nearby mountain range. Refusing to accept the see, he returned to Nazianzus, where he remained as auxiliary bishop until his father’s death in 374. When his mother died shortly thereafter, Nazianzen, still an earnest seeker after the contemplative life, decided to retire to the monastery of St. Thecla at Seleucia in Sauria.

Called to defend the Trinity

However, eventually Nazianzen left retirement to go to Constantinople and into the eye of the theological storm that was raging regarding the doctrine of the Trinity, the great theological debate of the fourth century. Why?

In his De Vita Sua, he gives the following reasons:

“The grace of the Spirit sent us For many bishops and sheep were calling us To be a helper of the people and assistant of the Word…” [De Vita Sua, lines 595-598 (PG 37.1070)].

On the one hand, he was called by the orthodox community of Constantinople, and on the other, by the “bishops.” Some scholars understand the latter to be not only the bishops of the district surrounding Constantinople, but also Basil and Meletius of Antioch. Pierre Batiffol builds on this, when he writes: “It is not improbable that he (Nazianzen) was the envoy of Meletius, the bishop of Antioch, or else that of Basil in his final days.”

X. Hürth has further asserted that Nazianzen arrived in Constantinople even before Basil’s death on January 1, 379. Both Paul Gallay and Christoph Jungck have, nevertheless, decisively shown that Nazianzen went to Constantinople only after the death of Basil, although it is probable that Basil in his final days advised him to go.

But why did the orthodox believers of Constantinople and the bishops call Nazianzen to be the pastor of the Nicene community in that city? A couple of reasons are clearly discernible. First of all, there was the death of the Emperor Valens, the protector of the Arians, in the disastrous rout near Hadrianopolis in Thrace (August 9, 378), and the succession to the purple by the orthodox Spaniard, Theodosius. The orthodox communities of the east once more began to re-assert their strength, so that by the year 379 nearly every important ecclesiastical centre, except Constantinople, was in the hands of orthodox bishops.

Second, although the Arians in Constantinople, under their bishop Demophilus, possessed authentic popular support, the orthodox community had received fresh hope with the accession of Theodosius; they lacked only a leader. Basil or Meletius of Antioch, the foremost leaders of the Nicene party in the east, would have been ideal choices, but both were attached to their respective sees, and by 379 Basil was dead. But Nazianzen, a friend of both Basil and Meletius, was as good as either of these men, and furthermore, he was not formally attached to any see.

Consequently, Nazianzen was invited, and after initial refusals, he accepted. It may be asked what was the major reason behind Nazianzen’s acceptance, for the forceful insistence of the delegation from Constantinople was certainly not the sole, nor prime, reason for Nazianzen’s acquiescence. It has been suggested that the thought of doing good was a sufficient reason for him to go. At the deeper level it is possible that after Basil’s death Nazianzen saw himself as the heir of Basil’s labours in the defence of the truth about the Trinity, and that this was the decisive factor which led him to leave his cell to go to Constantinople.

Profiles in Reformed Spirituality

Reformation Heritage Books (www.heritagebooks.org) is launching a new series by the end of the year entitled Profiles in Reformed Spirituality. Its editors will be Dr. Joel R. Beeke—President of Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary and Editorial Director of Reformation Heritage Books—and myself. I am thrilled to be able to work with Dr. Beeke on this series. The first book will be on Alexander Whyte and along with an introduction to his piety, it will include selections from his works. What follows is the general introduction to the series. Charles Dickens’ famous line in A Tale of Two Cities—“it was the best of times, it was the worst of times”—seems well suited to western Evangelicalism since the 1960s. On the one hand, these decades have seen much for which to praise God and to rejoice. In His goodness and grace, for instance, Reformed truth is no longer a house under siege. Growing numbers identify themselves theologically with what we hold to be biblical truth, namely, Reformed theology and piety. And yet, as an increasing number of Reformed authors have noted, there are many sectors of the surrounding western Evangelicalism that are characterized by great shallowness and a trivialization of the weighty things of God. So much of Evangelical worship seems barren. And when it comes to spirituality, there is little evidence of the riches of our heritage as Reformed Evangelicals.

As it was at the time of the Reformation, when the watchword was ad fontes—“back to the sources”—so it is now: the way forward is backward. We need to go back to the spiritual heritage of Reformed Evangelicalism to find the pathway forward. We cannot live in the past; to attempt to do so would be antiquarianism. But our Reformed forebears in the faith can teach us much about Christianity, its doctrines, its passions, and its fruit.

And they can serve as our role models. As R. C. Sproul has noted of such giants as Augustine and Martin Luther, John Calvin, and Jonathan Edwards: “These men all were conquered, overwhelmed, and spiritually intoxicated by their vision of the holiness of God. Their minds and imaginations were captured by the majesty of God the Father. Each of them possessed a profound affection for the sweetness and excellence of Christ. There was in each of them a singular and unswerving loyalty to Christ that spoke of a citizenship in heaven that was always more precious to them than the applause of men.” [“An Invaluable Heritage,” Tabletalk, 23, No.10 (October 1999), 5-6].

To be sure, we would not dream of placing these men and their writings alongside the Word of God. John Jewel (1522-1571), the Anglican apologist, once stated: “What say we of the fathers, Augustine, Ambrose, Jerome, Cyprian? …They were learned men, and learned fathers; the instruments of the mercy of God, and vessels full of grace. We despise them not, we read them, we reverence them, and give thanks unto God for them. Yet …we may not make them the foundation and warrant of our conscience: we may not put our trust in them. Our trust is in the name of the Lord.” [Cited in Barrington R. White, “Why Bother with History?” Baptist History and Heritage, 4, No.2 (July 1969), 85].

Seeking then both to honor the past and yet not idolize it, we are issuing these books in the series Profiles in Reformed Spirituality. The design is to introduce the spirituality and piety of the Reformed tradition by presenting descriptions of the lives of notable Christians with select passages from their works. This combination of biographical sketches and collected portions from primary sources gives a taste of the subjects’ contributions to our spiritual heritage and some direction as to how the reader can find further edification through their works. It is the hope of the publishers that this series will provide riches for those areas where we are poor and light of day where we are stumbling in the deepening twilight.

Other books in the series that are planned include ones on Jonathan Edwards, Horatius Bonar, Thomas Goodwin, John Owen and Hercules Collins.

New Jars of Clay Cd

The new “Jars of Clay” CD—Good Monsters (2006) is out. It is excellent. No doubt of that. I must confess that I regularly look forward to this group’s rich—and Augustinian—musical output. Take “All my tears” for instance.

When I go, don’t cry for me In my Father’s arms I’ll be The wounds this world left on my soul Will all be healed and I’ll be whole Sun and moon will be replaced With the light of Jesus’ face And I will not be ashamed For my Savior knows my name.

A clear note of biblical truth!

More on William Carey

The series that is appearing periodically on this blog entitled “Eminent Christians” began with William Carey. Here is another brief take on his life. When Claudius Buchanan (1766-1815) went out to India in 1796 as an Anglican missionary, he was reluctant at first to have anything to do with William Carey (1761-1834) and the other Baptist missionaries who were already there. But John Newton, upon hearing of his attitude, promptly wrote to Buchanan, who had been converted under his ministry, a gentle letter of reproof in which he stated:

“It is easy for you... to look down upon men who have given themselves to the Lord, and are bearing the burden and heat of the day. I do not look for miracles; but if God were to work one in our day, I should not wonder if it were in favour of Dr. Carey.”

Carey’s early years

The man of whom Newton spoke with such admiration had been born in very humble circumstances in 1761 in a tiny village called Paulerspury in Northamptonshire. His father, Edmund, was the schoolmaster of Paulerspury and the parish clerk of the local Anglican church. As such, Carey was regularly in church week by week and gained what he later described as a “considerable acquaintance” with the Scriptures. But, as he also noted, he knew next to nothing of “real experimental religion” till he was fourteen.

Also living in Paulerspury was William’s uncle, Peter Carey. Peter Carey had served with General James Wolfe in Canada, and, after the capture of Quebec in 1759, had returned to Paulerspury to take up the occupation of gardener. His tales of Canada instilled in William an interest for far-off lands. Moreover, Peter implanted in the young boy a love of gardening. Years later, when Carey was established in India, he was continually asking his friends and correspondents for seeds and roots to plant in his garden at Serampore. For instance, in a letter to his friend John Sutcliff he gently chided his friend for not taking his request for seeds seriously:

“I have written for some works of science, which I hope you will send. I think your best way is to send my list of roots, seeds, etc., to some nurseryman of note in London, with orders to ship them on the Providence, directed to me. Were you to give a penny a day to a boy to gather seeds of cowslips, violets, daisies, crowfoots, etc., and to dig up the roots of bluebells, etc., after they have done flowering, you might fill me a box every quarter of a year; and surely some neighbours would send a few snowdrops, crocuses, etc., and other trifles. All your weeks, even your nettles and thistles, are taken the greatest care of by me here. The American friends are twenty times more communicative than the English in this respect; indeed, though you cannot buy a little cabbage seed here under about £2.2s., yet I have never been able to extort an ounce, or a quart of kidney beans, from all the friends in England. Do try to mend a little.”

As a young boy, Carey eagerly wanted to emulate his uncle and become a gardener. But a painful shin disease prevented him from spending any length of time in the full sun. So his father apprenticed him to a shoemaker in Piddington, a nearby village. This apprenticeship was to have truly significant consequences for William’s future. One of his fellow-apprentices, John Warr, was a Christian. Warr was a Congregationalist and Carey’s upbringing had given him a contempt for Dissenters, but in time, as Warr persistently shared his faith with Carey, Carey was won for Christ.

Becoming Baptist and mission-minded

Carey’s subsequent study of the Scriptures convinced him of the Baptist position, and in 1783 he was baptized by John Ryland, Jr. in the river Nene at Northampton, after the two had walked down from the vestry of Castle hill church, the church which Philip Doddridge had once pastored.

Around the time of his baptism, Carey came across recently published accounts of Captain James Cook’s voyages of discovery in the south Pacific. Many years later, Carey said of his reading of this volume:

“Reading Cook’s Voyages was the first thing that engaged my mind to think of missions.

Through the account of Cook’s Voyages, Carey’s eyes were opened to wider horizons than the fields of Northamptonshire. But it was the Scriptures which taught him of the deep spiritual needs of those who lived far beyond those fields.

Preaching and pastoring

A year or so before his baptism Carey had been preaching regularly at the Congregational Church in Hackleton. In the years immediately following his baptism, Carey also began to preach in other neighbouring villages such as Earls Barton, Moulton, and his own home village, Paulerspury. The Moulton Church eventually called Carey to be their pastor in 1786, and in August of 1787, he was ordained. The three pastors officiating at his ordination were Ryland Jr., Andrew Fuller, and John Sutcliff, who, in the years to come, would become his closest friends.

After two years of pastoring at Moulton, Carey moved to Harvey Lane Baptist Church in Leicester, where he served up until he left for India in 1793. Carey’s pastorates at Moulton and Leicester brought him into close contact with the pastors and churches of the Northamptonshire Association. In this ambit Carey first voiced his convictions regarding the commission given by Christ to the Church in Matthew 28:19-20. Despite some hesitation, and even opposition, on the part of his pastoral colleagues, Carey’s convictions eventually won the day.

The result was the formation of the Baptist Missionary Society, with Carey as its first missionary. Carey’s convictions were crystallized in An Enquiry into the Obligations of Christians, to Use Means for the Conversion of the Heathens, which was published in 1792. This treatise is divided into five sections. Section I discusses the implication of Matthew 28:19-20, and convincingly demonstrates that the commission to “make disciples of all nations” was binding on the Church for all time. Section II outlines the history of missions since the Apostolic era, while the third section of the treatise surveys the state of the world in Carey’s own day. Section IV answers objections to sending out of missionaries, and in the fifth and final section Carey indicates some immediate practical steps which could be taken. It is important to note that heading the list of these steps is fervent, united prayer. The book played a key role in the inception of the modern missionary era, and, as Ernest A. Payne has observed, “may rightly be regarded as a landmark in Christian history.” Moreover, Payne goes on to note, the Enquiry has a message for today, for “it presents in terse and unadorned fashion the gist of the unanswerable argument that there still rests upon Christians the obligation to use all the means at their disposal for the conversion of unbelievers, wherever they may be.”

India

Carey left for India in June of 1793; he never returned to his native England. The first six years, largely spent in northern Bengal, were years of both frustration and preparation. There were no genuine conversions among the Indians, and because financial resources were sometimes so meagre, Carey was forced to take the post of a manager of an indigo factory. Furthermore, Carey’s missionary colleague, John Thomas (1757-1801), fell into debt and proved to be more of a hindrance than a help. And on top of all this, Carey’s wife, Dorothy (1756-1807), became wholly insane.

Yet, despite these potentially debilitating events, Carey put his initial years in India to good use, acquiring a substantial grasp of Bengali, learning how to preach to Hindus and Muslims, and making the name of Christ known throughout much of Bengal.

In 1799, Carey was joined by Joshua Marshman (1768-1837) and William Ward (1769-1823). Locating their mission centre at Serampore in southern Bengal, “the Serampore Trio” evangelized, established churches, and in particular, translated the Scriptures. Carey was thoroughly convinced that effective evangelism in India necessitated the translation of the Scriptures into the many languages and dialects of the Indian sub-continent. By the time of Carey’s death in 1834, the Serampore fraternity had been responsible for the translation of the entire Bible and portions of it into thirty-four languages. While the translations were far from perfect, the work done by Carey and his colleagues was, as Stephen Neill has judged, “an astounding achievement.”

Before Carey’s death, he left instructions that there be inscribed on his tombstone the following couplet from Isaac Watts in addition to his name and the dates of his birth and death:

“A wretched, poor and helpless worm, On thy kind arms I fall.”

John Piper on Andrew Fuller

Recently at the 2006 Desiring God National Conference, which was on The Supremacy of Christ in a Postmodern World, John Piper commented about his biographical study for the 2007 Desiring God Pastors’ Conference. In A Conversation with the Pastors (September 29, 2006), he said this: “I am working on Andrew Fuller for the Pastors’ Conference [2007]. Andrew Fuller was the major ropeholder for William Carey and a very shrewd “understander” of Calvinism in his eighteenth-century day.”

This is exciting and I am looking forward to hearing what Dr Piper will say about Fuller and his ministry.

John Sutcliff, “The Prayer Call of 1784″

Here is the document referred to in the previous blog, John Sutcliff’s “The Prayer Call of 1784.” It is an important text in that it was central to revival coming to the Calvinistic Baptist Churches in the UK during the late eighteenth century and early nineteenth century. Upon a motion being made to the ministers and messengers of the associate Baptist churches assembled at Nottingham, respecting meetings for prayer, to bewail the low estate of religion, and earnestly implore a revival of our churches, and of the general cause of our Redeemer, and for that end to wrestle with God for the effusion of his Holy Spirit, which alone can produce the blessed effect, it was unanimously RESOLVED, to recommend to all our churches and congregations, the spending of one hour in this important exercise, on the first Monday in every calendar month.

We hereby solemnly exhort all the churches in our connection, to engage heartily and perseveringly in the prosecution of this plan. And as it may be well to endeavour to keep the same hour, as a token of our unity herein, it is supposed the following scheme may suit many congregations, viz. to meet on the first Monday evening in May, June, and July, from 8 to 9. In Aug. from 7 to 8. Sept. and Oct. from 6 to 7. Nov. Dec. Jan. and Feb. from 5 to 6. March, from 6 to 7; and April, from 7 to 8. Nevertheless if this hour, or even the particular evening, should not suit in particular places, we wish our brethren to fix on one more convenient to themselves.

We hope also, that as many of our brethren who live at a distance from our places of worship may not be able to attend there, that as many as are conveniently situated in a village or neighbourhood, will unite in small societies at the same time. And if any single individual should be so situated as not to be able to attend to this duty in society with others, let him retire at the appointed hour, to unite the breath of prayer in private with those who are thus engaged in a more public manner.

The grand object of prayer is to be that the Holy Spirit may be poured down on our ministers and churches, that sinners may be converted, the saints edified, the interest of religion revived, and the name of God glorified. At the same time, remember, we trust you will not confine your requests to your own societies [i.e. churches]; or to your own immediate connection [i.e. denomination]; let the whole interest of the Redeemer be affectionately remembered, and the spread of the gospel to the most distant parts of the habitable globe be the object of your most fervent requests. We shall rejoice if any other Christian societies of our own or other denominations will unite with us, and do now invite them most cordially to join heart and hand in the attempt.

Who can tell what the consequences of such an united effort in prayer may be! Let us plead with God the many gracious promises of His Word, which relate to the future success of His gospel. He has said, “I will yet for this be enquired of by the House of Israel to do it for them, I will increase them with men like a flock.” Ezek. xxxvi.37. Surely we have love enough for Zion to set apart one hour at a time, twelve times in a year, to seek her welfare.

Attached to John Ryland, Jr., The Nature, Evidences, and Advantages, of Humility (Circular Letter of the Northamptonshire Association, 1784), 12.

“I Wish I Had Prayed More”: John Sutcliff and Prayer

In 1842, on the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the Baptist Missionary Society, the Baptist pastor and writer, F.A. Cox, reflecting on the origins of the Society, stated: “The primary cause of the missionary excitement in [William] Carey’s mind, and its diffusion among the Northamptonshire ministers [was] ... the meeting of the Association in 1784, at Nottingham, [when] it was resolved to set apart an hour on the first Monday evening of every month, “for extraordinary prayer for revival of religion, and for the extending of Christ’s kingdom in the world.” This suggestion proceeded from the venerable [John] Sutcliff. Its simplicity and appropriateness have since recommended it to universal adoption; and copious showers of blessing from on high have been poured forth upon the churches.” [History of the Baptist Missionary Society, From 1792 to 1842 (London: T. Ward & Co./G. & J. Dyer, 1842), 1:10-11].

From the vantage point of the early 1840s, Cox saw the Prayer Call of 1784—proposed by John Sutcliff for adoption by the Northamptonshire Baptist Association and centred on the need to seek revival through prayer—as pivotal in that it focused the prayers of Calvinistic Baptist churches in the Association on the nations of the world. It thus prepared the way for the emergence of the Baptist Missionary Society and the sending of Carey to India.

Yet he also notes that the “universal adoption” of the concert of prayer by churches beyond the ranks of the Calvinistic Baptist denomination had led to rich times of revival, when God poured forth upon these churches “copious showers of blessing.” Later historians would describe this period of blessing as the Second Evangelical Awakening (1790-1830).

Some of them, like J. Edwin Orr and Paul E.G. Cook, would concur with Cox and rightly trace the human origins of this time of revival and spiritual awakening to the adoption of the concert of prayer by the Calvinistic Baptists in 1784 [J. Edwin Orr, The Eager Feet: Evangelical Awakenings 1790-1830 (Chicago: Moody Press, 1975), 95, 191-92, 199; Paul E. G. Cook, “The Forgotten Revival” in Preaching and Revival (London: The Westminster Conference, 1984), 92].

However, in one area Cox’s statement in somewhat misleading. In describing John Sutcliff as “the venerable Sutcliff” he leaves the reader with an idyllic impression of the Baptist pastor. How sobering to find that this man, who was at the heart of a prayer movement that God used to bring so much spiritual blessing to His church, also struggled when it came to prayer.

When Sutcliff lay dying in 1814 he said to Fuller: “I wish I had prayed more.” For some time Fuller ruminated on this statement by his dying friend. Eventually he came to the conviction that Sutcliff did not mean that he “wished he had prayed more frequently, but more spiritually.”

Then Fuller elaborated on this interpretation by applying Sutcliff’s statement to his own life:

“I wish I had prayer more for the influence of the Holy Spirit; I might have enjoyed more of the power of vital godliness. I wish I had prayed more for the assistance of the Holy Spirit, in studying and preaching my sermons; I might have seen more of the blessing of God attending my ministry. I wish I had prayed more for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit to attend the labours of our friends in India; I might have witnessed more of the effects of their efforts in the conversion of the heathen. [cited J. W. Morris, Memoirs of the Life and Writings of the Rev. Andrew Fuller (London, 1816), 443].

“Every Step of My Life”: James Murray’s Grasp of Reality

A friend recently passed on to me this fabulous quote from Simon Winchester’s life of James Murray [The Meaning of Everything, p.135, from Peter Sutcliffe, The Oxford University Press, An Informal History (1978), no page given], who was one of the editors of the standard of our beloved English language, The Oxford English Dictionary. Here is the quote: “Murray was sustained for the rest of his life by an illusion that time, however quickly it ran out, was on his side. For a moment in history the language had paused and come to a rest. It could be seized and captured forever.”

This statement was made in light of the following extract from a letter that Murray wrote to Lord Bryce on December 15, 1903. Murray was sixty-six at the time:

“I think it was God’s will. In times of faith, I am sure of it. I look back & see that every step of my life has been as it were imposed upon me—not a thing of choice; and that the whole training of my life with its multifarious & irregular incursions into nearly every science & many arts, seems to have had the express purpose of fitting me to do this Dictionary …So I work on with a firm belief (at most times) that I am doing what God has fitted me for, & so made my duty; & I hope that He will strengthen me to see the end of it …But I am only an instrument, only the means that He has provided, & there is no credit due to me, except that of trying to do my duty; Deo soli Gloria.”

Gambling, Government and Virtue

A mainstream philosophical perspective has long been that the government of any given society should promote moral health and virtue, or at least, legislate in such a way that society’s fabric is not undermined. In this regard, the new anti-gambling bill in the U.S. is indeed welcome news. For as U.S. Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist told reporters, gambling is “a serious addiction that undermines the family, dashes dreams, and frays the fabric of society.” Will Canadian lawmakers follow suit? We wait and see—and pray!

For the story, see “U.S. bans Internet gambling.”

Reading John Owen: A New Edition by Kelly Kapic & Justin Taylor

Like many other Evangelicals who encountered John Owen’s writings through the Banner of Truth reprint of the nineteenth-century standard edition, it was for me a literally life-changing experience. I have been intrigued by his life and erudition, as well as his friendship with Oliver Cromwell and John Bunyan (Bunyan drew upon his character for one of his heroes in The Holy War), and taught by his passionate interest in the work of the Holy Spirit that was fully biblical and balanced. Owen on sanctification

But what especially impacted me was his view of sanctification, which I first met in the treatises The Nature, Power, Deceit, and Prevalency of the Remainders of Indwelling Sin in Believers (1667), Of the Mortification of Sin in Believers (1656), which were sermons he delivered in the university of Oxford; and Of Temptation: The Nature and Power of It, first published in 1658, which also consists of sermon material preached during the 1650s.

Though our technological and historical circumstances are very different from those of Puritan era, the hearts of men and women have not changed. Indwelling sin, now as then, is an ever-present reality, as Owen details in The Nature, Power, Deceit, and Prevalency of the Remainders of Indwelling Sin in Believers. Basing his discussion on Romans 7:21, Owen shows how sin lies at the heart of even believers’ lives, and, if not resisted by prayer and meditation, will slowly but surely eat away zeal for and delight in the things of God.

Of Temptation: The Nature and Power of It, essentially an exposition of Matthew 26:41, further analyzes the way in which believers fall into sin. Owen enumerates four seasons in which believers must exercise special care that temptation not lead them away into sin: times of outward prosperity, times of spiritual coldness and formality, times when one has enjoyed rich fellowship with God, and times of self-confidence, as in Peter’s affirmation to Christ, “I will not deny thee.” The remedy that Owen emphasizes is prayer. Typical of Puritan pithiness is his remark in this regard: “If we do not abide in prayer, we shall abide in cursed temptations.”

The final work, Of the Mortification of Sin in Believers, is in some ways the richest of the three. Based on Romans 8:13, it details how to fight indwelling sin and ward off temptation. Owen emphasizes that in the fight against sin the Holy Spirit employs all of our human powers. In sanctifying us, Owen insists, the Spirit works “in us and with us, not against us or without us.” Owen would rightly regard those today who talk about “letting go and letting God” take care of the believer’s sins as unbiblical. Yet, he is very much aware that sanctification is also a gift. This duty, he rightly emphasizes, is only accomplished through the Holy Spirit. Not without reason does Owen lovingly describe the Spirit as “the great beautifier of souls.”

In a day when significant sectors of evangelicalism are characterized by spiritual superficiality and shallowness, and holiness is rarely a major topic of interest or discussion, these books are like a draught of water in a dry and thirsty land. They remind us of the great spiritual heritage that we possess as evangelicals. Even more significantly, they challenge us to recover the biblical priority of holiness.

Overcoming Sin and Temptation

Now, in the just-about-to be-released Overcoming Sin and Temptation (Crossway Books, 2006), Kelly M. Kapic and Justin Taylor have produced “an unabridged but updated edition” of these three classic works of Owen “that preserves all of Owen’s original content but seeks to make it a bit more accessible” (p.17). Reader, buy this book and read it meditatively. It will change your life!

John Piper on why to read John Owen

John Piper has a Foreword to the work in which he writes this about Owen—and his favourite theologian Jonathan Edwards (also one of my favourites!):

“The two dead pastor-theologians of the English-speaking world who have nourished and taught me most are Jonathan Edwards and John Owen. Some will say Edwards is unsurpassed. Some say Owen was the greater. We don’t need to decide. We have the privilege of knowing them both as our friends and teachers. What an amazing gift of God’s providence that these brothers were raised up and that hundreds of years after they have died we may sit at their feet. We cannot properly estimate the blessing of soaking our minds in the Bible-saturated thinking of the likes of John Owen. What he was able to see in the Bible and preserve for us in writing is simply magnificent. It is so sad—a travesty, I want to say—how many Christian leaders of our day do not strive to penetrate the wisdom of John Owen, but instead read books and magazines that are superficial in their grasp of the Bible.

“We act as though there was nothing extraordinary about John Owen’s vision of biblical truth—that he was not a rare gift to the church. But he was rare. There are very few people like this whom God raises up in the history of the church. Why does God do this? Why does he give an Owen or an Edwards to the church and then ordain that what they saw of God should be preserved in books? Is it not because he loves us? Is it not because he would share Owen’s vision with his church? Great trees that are covered with the richest life-giving fruit are not for museums. God preserves them and their fruit for the health of his church.

“I know that all Christians cannot read all such giants. Even one mountain is too high to climb for most of us. But we can pick one or two, and then ask God to teach us what he taught them. The really great writers are not valuable for their cleverness but for their straightforward and astonishing insight into what the Bible really says about great realities. This is what we need.” (p.12).

Here is the link to the book on the Crossway site: http://www.gnpcb.org/product/1581346492

What to Read of the Fathers?

In the comment section on the previous post on the Fathers, I was asked about what to read of the Fathers. Everyone who has studied the Fathers will have his or her favourites. Here are some of mine. I would say Jaroslav Pelikan’s first volume in his history of Christian doctrine, The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition, is an excellent place to start. JND Kelly on Early Christian Doctrine is another excellent starter. Other secondary sources that provide a good introduction include the works by Christopher Hall (Reading Scripture with the Church Fathers and Doing Theology with the Church Fathers) and Robert Wilken’s The Spirit of Early Thought. Gerald Bray’s Creeds, Councils and Christ is also very good. I also like Henry Chadwick’s two works on the early church: The Early Church (Penguin) and The Church in Ancient Society (OUP).

For primary sources, see Henry Bettenson, The Early Christian Fathers and his The Later Christian Fathers give good overviews. Augustine’s Confessions is a natural place to start. You may not agree with all you read, but it is a gem. Also the second-century The Letter to Diognetus is a gem—the cream of second-century Apologetics. I would also strongly recommend Basil’s On the Holy Spirit.

Why Study the Fathers?

Our generation is afflicted with a kind of historical amnesia, which, unfortunately, has not left the Church untouched. For instance, Malcolm Muggeridge, who became a professing Christian after a lifetime of skepticism, in remarks made in the account of his conversion, stated that in the final analysis “history is phony.” As he went on to say: “…in the case of the greatest happenings such as Christ’s life and death, historicity is completely without importance. It is very important to know the history of Socrates because Socrates is dead, but the history of Christ doesn’t matter because he is alive.” [Jesus Rediscovered (London: Wm. Collins Sons & Co., Ltd., 1972), 204]. In such an intellectual ambience—which is nonsensical to anyone who values the historicity of Christian origins—the question, “Why study the Fathers?” must be asked again and answered afresh. Listed below are a number of reasons that can be considered an initial step in this direction.

First, study of the Fathers, like any historical study, liberates us from the present [C.S. Lewis, “De descriptione temporum” in Walter Hooper, ed., Selected Literary Essays (Cambridge: At the University Press, 1969), 12]. Every age has a certain outlook, presuppositions which remain unquestioned even by opponents. The examination of another period of thought forces us to confront our innate prejudices which would go unnoticed otherwise.

For instance, Gustaf Aulén, in his classic study of the atonement, Christus Victor, argues that an objective study of the Patristic concept of Atonement will reveal a motif which has received little attention in post-Reformation Christianity: the idea of the Atonement as a divine conflict and victory, in which Christ fights and overcomes the evil powers of this world, under whom man has been held in bondage. According to Aulén, what is commonly accepted as the New Testament doctrine of the Atonement, the forensic theory of satisfaction, may in fact be a concept quite foreign to the New Testament. As to whether he is right or not—and I think he is quite wrong—can only come by a fresh examination of the sources, both New Testament and Patristic.

Then, the Fathers can provide us with a map for the Christian life. It is indeed exhilarating to stand on the east coast and watch the Atlantic surf and hear the pound of the waves. But this experience will be of little benefit in sailing to England. For this a map is needed. A map based upon the accumulated experience of thousands of voyagers. Similarly, we need such a map for the Christian life. Experiences are fine and good, but they will not serve as a suitable foundation for our lives in Christ. To be sure, we have the divine Scriptures, an ultimately sufficient foundation for all of our needs (2 Timothy 3:16-17). But the thought of the Fathers can help us enormously in building on this foundation.

A fine example is provided by Athanasius’ doctrine of the Spirit in his letters to Serapion, bishop of Thmuis. The present day has seen a resurgence of interest in the Person of the Holy Spirit. This is admirable, but also fraught with danger if the Spirit is conceived of apart from Christ. Yet, Athanasius’ key insight was that “from our knowledge of the Son we may be able to have true knowledge of the Spirit” (Letter to Serapion 3.1). The Spirit cannot be divorced from the Son: not only does the Son send and give the Spirit, but the Spirit is the principle of the Christ-life within us. Many have fallen into fanatical enthusiasm because they failed to realize this basic truth: the Spirit cannot be separated from the Son.

Third, the Fathers may also, in some cases, help us to understand the New Testament. We have had too disparaging a view of Patristic exegesis, and have come close to considering the exposition of the Fathers as a consistent failure to understand the New Testament. For instance Cyril of Jerusalem in his interpretation of 1 Corinthians 7:5, which concerns temporary abstinence of sexual relations between married couples for the sake of prayer, assumes without question that the prayer is liturgical and communal prayer (Catechesis 4.25).

Cyril may be guilty of an anachronism, for he was a leader in “the hallowing of the time,” that is, the observance of holy seasons. Nonetheless, there is good evidence that such communal observances, in some form or other, are quite early. The liturgical life of the Church of Jerusalem in the fourth century was not that of Corinth in the first, but nevertheless there were links. Possibly it is the Protestant commentators who are guilty of anachronism when they assume that Paul meant private prayer; such religious individualism is more conceivable in the Protestant West than in first-century Corinth.

As T.F. Torrance writes, “[There is a] fundamental coherence between the faith of the New Testament and that of the early Church… The failure to discern this coherence in some quarters evidently has its roots in the strange gulf, imposed by analytical methods, between the faith of the primitive Church and the historical Jesus. In any case I have always found it difficult to believe that we modern scholars understand the Greek of the New Testament better than the early Greek Fathers themselves! [Space, Time and Resurrection (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publ. Co., 1976), xii].

These three reasons are only a start towards giving a full answer to the question, “Why study the Fathers?” There are certainly other reasons for studying these ancient authors which may be more obvious or even more important. But these three reasons sufficiently indicate the need for Patristic studies in the ongoing life of the Church: to aid in her liberation for the Zeitgeist of the twenty-first century; to provide a guide in her walk with Christ; to help her understand the basic witness to her faith, the New Testament.

“Troublechurch” Browne

Paul W. Martin asked for more on “Troublechurch Browne”. Here is a wee sketch. In the latter part of the sixteenth century, a number of Puritans came to the conviction that the Church of England would never be fully reformed, and thus they decided to separate from the state church and organize their own congregations. These Puritans would be known as Separatists and they would argue for what was essentially a Congregationalist form of church government.

One of their earliest leaders was Robert Browne (c.1550–1633), who in a tract entitled A Treatise of Reformation without Tarrying for anie (1582), provided the “clarion-call” of the Separatist movement. Browne—nicknamed “Troublechurch” Browne by his opponents—came from a family of substance and was related to Robert Cecil, Elizabeth I’s Lord Treasurer and chief minister. During his undergraduate years at Cambridge University, Browne had become a “thoroughgoing Presbyterian Puritan.” Within a few years, though, he had come to the conviction that each local congregation had the right, indeed the responsibility, to elect its own elders. And by 1581 he was of the opinion that the setting up of congregations apart from the Established Church and its parish churches was a necessity for, he wrote that year, “God will receive none to communion and covenant with him, which as yet are at one with the wicked.” That same year he established a Separatist congregation at Norwich. Experiencing persecution he and his Norwich congregation left England the following year for the freedom of the Netherlands.

It was in the Netherlands that Browne published the book for which he is remembered, A Treatise of Reformation without Tarrying for anie (1582). In this influential tract, Browne set forth his views that, over the course of the next century, would become common property of all the theological children of the English Separatists, including the Congregationalists and the Calvinistic Baptists.

First of all, Browne willingly conceded the right of civil authorities to rule and to govern. However, he drew a distinct line between their powers in society at large and their power with regard to local churches. As citizens of the state the individual members of these churches were to be subject to civil authorities. However, he rightly emphasized, these authorities had no right “to compel religion, to plant Churches by power, and to force a submission to ecclesiastical government by laws and penalties.”

Then, Browne conceived of the local church as a “gathered” church, that is, a company of Christians who had covenanted together to live under the rule of Christ, the Risen Lord, whose will was made known through his Word and his Spirit. Finally, the pastors and elders of the church, though they ultimately received their authority and office from God, were to be appointed to their office by “due consent and agreement of the church … according to the number of the most which agree.”

The key principle that Browne had seen clearly was that the kingdom of God cannot be brought about by the decrees of state authorities and that ultimately Christianity is “a matter of private conscience rather than public order, that the church is a fellowship of believers rather than an army of pressed men” and women.

Browne returned to the British Isles not long after publishing this treatise. To the consternation of many of his friends he subsequently recanted his views, and rejoined the Church of England. But he had begun a movement that could not be held in check. Browne’s mantle fell to three men—John Greenwood (c.1560–1593), Henry Barrow (c.1550–1593) and John Penry (1559–1593)—all of whom were hanged in 1593 for what was regarded by the state as an act of civil disobedience, namely secession from the Established Church.

Prior to his death, Penry rightly emphasized to the state authorities that “imprisonment, judgments, yea, death itself, are not meet weapons to convince men’s consciences, grounded on the word of God.” The response of the English state was swift and brutal. In April 1593 a law was passed that required everyone over the age of sixteen to attend their local parish church. Failure to do so for an entire month meant imprisonment. If, after three months following the individual’s release from prison, he or she still refused to conform, the person was to be given a choice of exile or death. In other words, the Elizabethan church and state was hoping to rid itself of the Separatist problem by sending those who were recalcitrant into exile. But the preaching and writings of Greenwood, Barrow and Penry led a significant number in the English capital, London, to adopt Separatist principles. And as British Baptist historian Barrie White has noted: “For many it was but a short step from impatient Puritanism within the established Church to convinced Separatism outside it.”

Browne also ended up spending his final days in prison. He was arrested when a very old man for striking a village constable. His own personal walk may have been wanting—but he set in motion a train of events and ideas that could not be held in check.