This is our last class.
In our previous 12 classes,
we've covered a lot of material,
including
a bit about Jonathan Edwards life and works,
why he wrote
The Religious Affections,
what the affections are --
the mind yearning --
and why they are important.
We've also studied twelve things
that Edwards explains
do not distinguish between godly
and ungodly affections.
We then studied
twelve distinguishing marks
that Edwards asserts
are signs that religious affections
are godly:
Spiritual origin of affections,
Appreciation of divine things in themselves,
Love for the holiness of divine things,
Enlightened understanding,
Certainty of divine things,
True humility,
Change of nature,
Christ-like spirit,
Tender-spirit,
Beautiful symmetry and proportion,
Desire to grow, and
Life of obedience.
Today,
we're going to look at
some dangers to avoid when applying what we've learned,
and I'm also going to
try to tie up a few loose ends.
Before we do either of these, however,
it seems appropriate to me
to read to you a fairly lengthy
excerpt from Jonathan Edwards' closing to the book.
This provides,
I think,
an excellent rationale
for why we ought to try
to apply the ideas
we've talked about for the past 12 weeks.
[If we will learn
to judge ourselves
and others
by] those things,
which Christ
and his apostles
and prophets
chiefly insisted on
... regarding practical exercises
and effects of grace
it would be
of manifold happy consequence;
it would above all things
tend to the conviction
of deluded hypocrites,
...; it would tend to deliver us
from innumerable perplexities, ...;
it would greatly tend to prevent
professors neglecting strictness of life,
and tend to promote
their engagedness
and earnestness
in their Christian walk;
and it would become fashionable
for men to show their Christianity,
more by an amiable
distinguished behavior,
than by an abundant
and excessive
declaring their experiences;
and we should get into the way
of appearing lively in religion,
more by being lively
in the service of God and our generation,
than by
the liveliness and forwardness
of our tongues,
and making a business
of proclaiming on the house tops,
with our mouths,
the holy and eminent acts
and exercises of our own hearts;
... and many occasions of spiritual pride
would be cut off;
and so a great door shut against the devil;
and a great many
of the main stumbling blocks
against experimental and powerful [Christianity]
would be removed;
and [Christianity] would be
declared and manifested
in such a way that,
instead of hardening spectators,
and exceedingly promoting infidelity and atheism,
would,
above all things,
tend to convince men
that there is a reality in [Christianity],
and greatly awaken them,
and win them,
by convincing their consciences
of the importance and excellency of [Christianity].
Thus the light of professors
would so shine before men,
that others,
seeing their good works,
would glorify their Father which is in heaven.
For this to happen,
we must apply the things taught
by Edwards --
which are nothing more
than what is taught by the Scripture --
thoughtfully,
and diligently.
As we make application,
there are some dangers
we need to be careful to avoid.
Let's talk about
some of those dangers now.
I've listed two dangers
for each of the three application areas
we've been using throughout
our study of the distinguishing signs
of godly affections.
In each case,
the two dangers are
basically opposites
of each other,
and the danger to which
you are more prone
will likely be a function
of your personality.
As a quick aside
concerning personality differences,
I'm sure you've all heard the saying
that an optimist
sees a glass as half-full,
while a pessimist
sees it as half-empty.
What you may not have heard,
unless you've spent some time in Illinois,
is the Cubs corollary,
which says that there's a third option,
and that's to ask,
"When is it going to spill?"
Let's look at dangers now.
In seeking to evaluate
ourselves
by using the twelve distinguishing signs,
we must be careful
to avoid
not being honest or thorough.
The first time
that I read Religious Affections,
which was quite a few years ago now,
I was scared to death
of evaluating myself
according to the signs Edwards identifies.
I was scared to do it,
because of the possibility
I might discover that
I wasn't a Christian at all,
and this was a result
that I wasn't willing to accept.
With that type of attitude
there was no way
I was going to make
an honest and thorough
evaluation of myself.
Don't even try to evaluate yourself,
until you're confident
you can do it honestly and thoroughly.
When we do evaluate ourselves,
a second danger
we must avoid is
mistaking lack of perfection
for lack of the sign.
None of us will perfectly display
any single one of the twelve signs
always.
So if you're looking for perfection,
and you're being honest and thorough,
your score will be 0 for 12,
just as mine would be.
Don't look for total perfection;
instead look for some presence.
If you are a believer,
and you aren't a brand new convert,
there should exist some times
when you display in some way
every one of the signs --
some signs
you'll display much more often
than some other signs --
but you should
display each of the twelve
at least occasionally,
and,
as time goes by,
the frequency with which
you display the signs
should be increasing.
In this sense,
then,
your score should be 12 for 12,
remembering that some of these
might be very often,
and others relatively rarely.
Take me, for example,
I almost always display
the sign
certainty of divine things,
but
I much, much, much less often
display the sign of a tender spirit.
What should not be the case,
I don't think,
for anyone who is truly regenerate
is that one or more of the signs
is never, ever displayed in his life.
This answers,
I hope,
the question about
how to score yourself.
Before we look at dangers
in applying the signs to others,
are there any questions?
When it comes to using
the distinguishing marks to evaluate
the spiritual condition of others --
to inspect their fruit, if you will --
there are also at least two dangers to avoid.
First,
we should avoid
inspecting when we need not inspect.
Second,
we should avoid
the opposite danger,
which is
failing to inspect when we must inspect.
If you are inclined
to be analytical,
you need to be particularly
on the alert against the first danger.
If, on the other hand,
you are inclined
to be deferential,
you need to be particularly
on the alert against the second danger.
In either case,
you need to be able to discern
between times you must inspect,
and times when you ought not (or need not).
What are some instances
in which we ought not (or need not)
apply the signs we've learned
to trying to determine someone's spiritual condition?
When the person is dead.
When you have no direct dealings
with the person
(consider a famous person,
for example, John Grisham)
When the person explicitly claims
to not be a believer.
In none of these cases
is there any legitimate reason
for us to try to evaluate a person's
spiritual condition
using the signs Edwards gives us.
What are some instances
in which we must inspect the fruit
of another person,
if we want to obey the Scripture?
When considering who to marry.
When considering whether
to go into a close business partnership
with someone.
When choosing close friends.
Parents with their children.
Elders when considering admitting
someone to membership.
In each of these cases,
if we fail to honestly and thoroughly
inspect a person's life for evidence
of true conversion,
we'll not being true to Scripture ourselves.
Before we look at dangers
in applying the signs to ministries,
are there any questions?
There are also at least two
dangers to avoid
when using the distinguishing signs
to evaluate the godliness of particular ministries.
We need to avoid
throwing the baby out with the bath water,
and we need also to avoid
mistaking bubbles for babies.
I've already talked about
this in some detail
from time to time in the previous weeks.
We throw the baby out with the bath water
if we completely dismiss a ministry
simply because
it is not perfect.
If this is the approach we take,
we're in great danger of ending up
like Arthur Pink,
rejecting every church,
and everybody.
We mistake bubbles for babies
if we completely accept a ministry
simply because
it gets a few things right.
If we take this approach,
we're in great danger of ending up
as heretics,
or at best,
deeply confused, and
to use Pete's phrase,
living well below the line.
That's it for the dangers,
are there any questions
before I move on to loose ends?
I mentioned last week
that there were three issues
that had been raised by folks
that I wanted to address in more detail
in this class --
these are loose ends,
so to speak,
that need to be tied up.
I've already addressed one of them,
which leaves only two.
Let's discuss those now.
The first loose end
involves the meaning of egalitarianism,
especially as it relates to the church.
A couple of people --
that's a figurative 'couple',
not a literal 'couple' --
disagreed with my assertion
that egalitarianism is a serious problem
in the church today.
This disagreement came in two flavors:
one -- egalitarianism is a problem,
but it is not a problem within the church,
at least not the reformed church;
two -- egalitarianism is not a problem at all,
but rather it is taught in Scripture.
Both of these disagreements
turned out to be based --
as so many disagreements are --
on lack of understanding of what I meant
when I used the word
egalitarianism.
This word is a relatively new one
in English --
The Oxford English Dictionary's first citation of its use
came from 1932.
The adjective form,
egalitarian,
is a bit older,
with an OED first citation from 1885,
along with the definition:
"that which asserts the equality of mankind."
There are, in fact,
some areas in which the Scripture
is egalitarian.
For example,
all mankind is equal in being sinners,
deserving the wrath of God.
All Christians are equal
in being saved by grace:
Galatians 3:28
There is neither Jew nor Greek,
there is neither slave nor free man,
there is neither male nor female;
for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
So, those who asserted
that the Scripture teaches egalitarianism
are partially right,
but in my discussion of the term,
I wasn't claiming that people
aren't equal in
anything,
only that they aren't equal in
everything,
or in
as many things,
as our modern culture wants to believe.
As the Scripture makes clear
in many places,
including Jesus' parable of the talents
in Matthew 25:14-30,
God does not give everyone
the same abilities.
Some people can sing,
others cannot.
Some people can run fast,
others cannot.
Some people are smart,
others are not.
Some people consistently make wise decisions;
some people consistently make unwise decisions.
Egalitarianism, in the way I'm using the term,
says that these distinctions,
should not matter,
at all,
no matter what the circumstances.
If you're choosing a company president,
whether the person can sing
probably doesn't matter,
and whether the person can run fast
probably doesn't matter,
but whether the person consistently makes wise decisions
had better matter;
to say it should not matter
is to speak nonsense.
This nonsense
is completely rejected by the Scripture.
Although it is rejected by Scripture,
does egalitarianism of this sort
exist within the church today,
even within the conservative, reformed church?
I believe it does,
not quite as strongly as it does
within the culture at large,
or even within other church cultures,
but it is still with us.
I'll leave as an exercise
for each of you
to come up with specific examples
of manifestations
of egalitarianism
within the reformed community.
I'm not going to give you
any examples myself,
because doing so
has gotten me into lots of trouble
in the past,
and my current ambition is,
as Paul wrote it should be in
1 Thessalonians 4:11,
to lead a quiet life,
and mind my own business.
That ties up,
as best as I'm going to do,
the loose end concerning egalitarianism.
The other loose end
involves the relationship
between our desires
and our choices --
our affections
and our will.
Back when we were
talking about the meaning of affections,
I made the statement
that a person always
does what he wants to do.
Several people told me
after the class that
they didn't think
this was a true statement.
One person suggested,
quite cleverly --
wrongly, but cleverly --
that his telling me
that I was wrong,
proved that I was wrong,
because he didn't
want to
question what I had said,
but was compelled to do so,
against his desire,
by a concern for the truth.
Adequately addressing the issue raised here
would require far more time than we have,
but I'll give it a try.
Jonathan Edwards
addressed this question in detail
in his book on the Freedom of the Will.
Here's an excerpt:
The choice of the mind
never departs from that which,
at that time,
and with respect to
the direct and immediate objects
of that decision of the mind,
appears most agreeable and pleasing,
all things considered.
If the immediate objects of the will
are a man's own actions,
then those actions
which appear most agreeable to him
he wills.
If it be now most agreeable to him,
all things considered,
to walk,
then he now wills to walk.
If it be now,
upon the whole
of what at present appears to him,
most agreeable to speak,
then he chooses to speak;
if it suits him best
to keep silence,
then he chooses to keep silence.
There is scarcely a plainer
and more universal dictate
of the sense and experience of mankind,
than that,
when men act voluntarily,
and do what they please,
then they do what suits them best,
or what is most agreeable to them.
Two key phrases in that excerpt are
"at that time",
and
"all things considered."
These are the qualifiers
that people often omit
when they talk about
not doing what they want to do.
For when Edward says,
or I say,
that a person does what he wants to do,
this is not saying that a person
does what he would want to do,
at some other time,
or if the circumstances were different.
Let me give you a person example,
which I hope will make this point clear.
When I was in high school,
my favorite subject was history.
When I first started thinking
about college,
I though I'd major in history.
As I thought about it more,
however, I realized that the prospects
for earning enough money to adequately
support a family,
if I majored in history,
were fairly slim.
So, I chose not to major in history.
Did I not do
what I wanted to do?
Well, I didn't do
what I would have wanted to do
in the absence of factors
other than my interests.
But I certainly did do
what I wanted to do
all things considered,
because there were factors
other than my interests
that had to be considered.
Does this help clarify the issue,
or does someone have a question?
That ties up the other loose end.
Are there any questions
or comments before I wrap things up?
In a moment,
I will close with our final reading from Jonathan Edwards.
Before I do that, 'though,
I want to say thank you
for your attention during these 13 weeks.
I've very much enjoyed
teaching the class,
and hope that God has been pleased
to use it to help you all.
I hope also
that this class has kindled in you
a desire to read more
from Jonathan Edwards --
you will be richly blessed
if you will do so.
Our last reading is from a sermon,
titled Christian Knowledge,
or the Importance
And Advantage of
A Thorough Knowledge
Of Divine Truth.
It seems a fitting closing to the course,
and also a fitting introduction
to the next Sunday School class that I'll teach
in about a year from now,
which will be "A Christian Philosophy of Learning".
Seek not
to grow in knowledge
chiefly for the sake of applause,
and to enable you
to dispute with others;
but seek it
for the benefit of your souls,
and in order to practice.
...
Practice according to what knowledge you have.
This will be the way to know more. ...
You all have by you
a large treasure of divine knowledge,
in that you have the Bible in your hands;
therefore be not contented
in possessing but little of this treasure.
God has spoken much to you in the Scripture;
labor to understand as much
of what he says as you can.
God has made you all reasonable creatures;
therefore let not
the noble faculty of reason or understanding
lie neglected.
Content not yourselves
with having so much knowledge
as is thrown in your way,
and as you receive
in some sense unavoidably
by the frequent inculcation of divine truth
in the preaching of the word,
of which you are obliged to be hearers,
or as you accidentally gain in conversation;
but let it be very much your business
to search for it,
and that
with the same diligence and labor
with which men
are wont
to dig in mines of silver and gold.